All Other Ground Is Sinking Sand

It's been a big blog gap, but with good reason. It's day four of actually being on the road; Tour Team 2011: North America has officially begun. It's not easy, not by a long shot. I never imagined there could be so many sick people in one place so quickly or that my back would stiffen up and strangle me in less than a week. But the good stuff...there has been some mighty good stuff. We've seen four salvations already, and tonight there was a really big response. I got to preach on Sunday night in Princeton for my first time on the trip and it completely pumped me up and refreshed me in ways I desperately needed. I am travelling with some of the most amazingly positive people, which just brings life into every situation. I just wish I didn't feel like crap, and I wish that the Monster wasn't threatening to take me down with every defeat. Today I just felt at the end of myself and it took all my energy to not burst into tears in front of a group of 70 youth. I need refreshing, and I'm not entirely sure where to get it.

You Will Always Love Me even though You Know

Tonight I have the privilege of sleeping in a real bed that is only two feet off the ground, drinking tea with milk and sugar before bed from a chair that does not squeak, and just being. It is wonderful.

Doing my devos tonight (yes, it is once again back on track time), I came across the story of the woman caught in adultery. It's poignant and beautiful. She does not beg, he does not condemn or lay the guilt trip on nice and thick, and he simply tells her to go and sin no more. It gives me hope. No matter what may go on in my life, this is my relationship with Him. This is the way He sees me, even for crimes "lesser" than adultery. Amazing, I know.

Christmas in five days. Whew. Who knew we'd get back here.

I'm Too Young to Feel this Old

I spent the weekend with a dear friend doing the most wonderful things. It was so lightening to just be in the presence of someone who I'm so comfortable with, doing whatever the heck we wanted in the moment. It was a nice reprieve from the last long while. Lately I have felt very, very old.

The amount of life experience I have had in the last five years alone feels like enough to make me ancient. Someone asked how old I was the other day and I actually had to do the math. I feel as though I have had at least thirty years of life, if not more, but I am selling myself short by at least a decade. There is still so much to go.

Devastating loss takes so much away from a person. I found my first white hair awhile ago, and another one yesterday. The stress of life as it is has literally been aging me before my own eyes. I have acne, which is the strangest thing because I rarely had more than one pimple at a time until now. Wrinkles are appearing. My metabolism is slowing down. I am sure that if people heard me say these things they would laugh and tell me to stop over-exaggerating, to quit being such a drama queen. This is no hyperbole, however; I am aging far faster than years are going by.

I am no longer afraid of being alone. I'm not. I never have been, I never will be, and that goes even beyond death. I am tired of being the kind of alone that was God's first declaration of "not good," though. That kind of alone is exhausting. I am whole by myself. I am a fully functioning human being without a man. I can survive this way until I die. But now I want another whole person to walk through all of this with. I want to enjoy it all with another person by my side. And I can wait. Patience, over the last several years, has been growing on me. I can wait.

I feel eons old. Maybe when people talk about the day-age theory, this is what they mean: days go by but it feels like forever. That doesn't mean it actually is. I'm not stupid enough to think that I am a billion years old just because all the evidence I can see looks that way (not that I'm making jabs at day-age theorists...much). The point? I am so, so old. Maybe one day I will find an old soul like me.

If You Wait too Long for the Perfect Moment, the Perfect Moment will Pass You By

I don't know anything anymore.

I'm leaving on Sunday, back on Friday. Out of contact with the world for five days. It's going to be wonderful.

I'm waiting on the moment things will change, the second they'll get better. I'm waiting on the day I'll be better, and it never seems to come.

Being in Toronto might be exactly what I need this summer. It might be a safe haven after all of...this. Or, it might be a nightmare.

Oh yeah, and it's only thirteen more days.

What a mess.

Burning Up...and Out

This past weekend was Rockridge Round Two. I met new people, hung out with a new set of bathroommates, and, thankfully, was in a general state of "just okay" because I didn't have a hundred million memories hanging over my head the way that I do when I walk the paths of this haunted campus. God touched me in a way that I've never felt before; He was finally able to obliterate the wall I had set up between Him and my heart for supposed safety, and was able to show me that the greatest safety is in the comfort of His arms. I gave up a lot to Him, and I threw away all of my excuses, now rendered useless by absolute Truth, for why I should not be the woman He created me to be.

Sometimes it still hurts. My own Great Sadness still trickles out of the past and muddies my vision with its lies and "what-could-have-been"s. My focus used to be on the past, then shuffled to the future to ease the heartache, and is now desperately clinging to the edges of the present in the hopes of finding peace. But peace never came from holding on; it's in the letting go that God can bring peace to my heart.

Facebook never fails to give me a good slap, Skype brings the futile desperation of holding back tears, and my uncracked window reminds me of days that will never come. Sometimes I think I hold on so that I have something to draw from in moments when I need to feel human or want to express myself through writing, but other times I think it is simply because if I really do let go and let God come in and completely heal my heart (not just bandage or stitch it up, but actually heal), then I won't have the Sadness to cling to. Without the sadness, am I really even Me anymore?

This year will be a good year. There are wonderful people, fantastic classes and the hope of a possible future at this school beyond the next several months. I know, in my head, if I let go of last year that this year has the potential to be just as good, if not better, but my heart can't quite grasp that yet. I'm getting there, though.

I've finally realized that sometimes you lose the good things in life to make room for the great things.

Fresh Breeze

I'm starting to wonder if I'm not fun anymore. My last few blogs have been so depressing, and I like happy-me so much more than contemplative-me. As much as she has her uses, she can be so dull sometimes.

So like a week ago, adventure fever hit campus. Everyone suddenly felt the need to do crazy things. It was awesome. So what did we do? Five of us piled into Daniel's car and we went to Dairy Queen. Everything was going fairly normal until Steph, leaning against the garbage can, holds up a little packet and says: "Dare me to eat this relish." So of course we do, and she does! Just rips it open, nothing to it, and squeezes it straight into her mouth. So, naturally, we then dared her to eat the vinegar, ketchup, sweet n' low, and sugar packets. I think she drew the line at pepper. It was ridiculous.

Then, sitting eating our ice cream, Melissa unveiled her most wonderful secret. As Melissa doesn't blog, I don't feel as though I'm taking away from her story-telling opportunities by sharing this now. It is also one of my favourite stories of all time, so I reserve the right to tell it whenever I want. Here we go.

It was Melissa's tenth birthday, and she was over-the-moon excited because her greatest wish was finally coming true: she was getting ice cream cake for her birthday. She had told all her friends, and they were nearly as excited as she was. The moment approached, she sat at the ready, and got the surprise of her life. Apparently "someone" had put the cake in the fridge and it melted everywhere. Jumping in to save the day, Mel's grandma decided to bake her a cake (how sweet). And, being the hip woman that she was, Grandma decided to give Melissa a cake that any little girl would dream of: vanilla cake with naked barbies stuck in it. Not only is Melissa a complete tomboy, but who wants to eat anything with naked ladies jumping out of it? ...don't answer that.

That was pretty much the adventure of our evening and, even though it may not seem like much, we apparently don't get out enough to know any better. Basically, it was wonderful. I love this place.