Ride Out the Wave

I am afraid of myself and the things I still carry with me against my will. I am afraid of the insecurities that drive me to commit ridiculous faux pas. I am afraid of my subconscious efforts at sabotage. I am afraid that I am not strong enough to be the woman I want to be. In that case, thank God for...well, God. I, on my own, by my pitiful self, am not big enough or strong enough or self-controlled enough to prevail over my flesh. But Christ in me? He reigns. And when He is not reigning, I know there are things between myself and Him that need to change, not between myself and others.

I have an extremely good thing going here, and I just cried myself silly thinking I am going to wreck it out of my own stupidity. But! If I surrender every thought and every action and every desire to the One to whom I attempt to give control, then there is no failure; failure for my hoped outcome perhaps, but not failure in His eyes. Thank goodness for the but.

The more I focus on Him, the easier this will be. Come on, Leanne. Grow up, delve in, be the woman of God He has called you to be. No excuses, no regrets.

There is nothing scarier than the empty hanging of a heart on the line.

Prone to Leave the God I Love

As a child, I used to imagine my hiding place with God as a garden. It was much like this one, except with many forks and a bench for us to sit on. Here I would just be with God. It was my safe place to go when I had a nightmare or just needed peace. I have not returned there in a long, long time.

More recently I have turned to the image of an island; safer, with no shadows. I don't go there much anymore, either.

This summer is being planned as one of rejuvenation instead of burnout, for once. I am creating a plan that centers around actually caring for the different needs of my body and spirit, and allowing God to do the rest. It will be interesting to see how it affects my life.

I am in a battle right now that is 100% mental. It is about maintaining focus, building strong muscles (literal and figurative), and not giving into the temptation to lie down in the desert to die. There are so many wonderful things going on in my life, so I need to focus on those and remember my reasons for living; not living as in continuing to have a body that beats and breathes and operates for the sake of itself, but living with passion as opposed to being a dead soul in a functioning body.

I am doing good, I really am, but this is a marathon. I am only just remembering my legs.

Accepted and Worthy Is Our New Name

So, today is the day. At exactly 1:41 AM, I will transform from being a boring, run of the mill, poop on a stick 22-year-old into a marvelous, fascinating, completely transformed 23-year-old! Brilliant! And the intermittent pictures? On the eve of such an occasion, I think it highly appropriate to document the many faces of Leanne in the face of facing said occasion.

I don't think I was a big fan of 22. Negative perspective (it's always best to start here and end on a sweet note):

• I was a heart and soul prisoner of the institution, of The Man.
• I had a lot of bad dreams, a lot of which came true.
• I made mistakes.
• I gained weight in bad places.
• I had the worst internship of my life and took the worst road possible to build character.
• I cried. A lot.

But the positive perspective! (it's always so comforting going through the negatives and almost always thinking of positives anyways):

• I had my incredible, life-changing roadtrip with God!
• I finally got to go on tour and see the whole amazing country! And who could forget the people?! Wow!
• I built a LOT of character!
• I made some new amazing friends!
• I overcame a lot of difficult things and came to a new level of understanding myself, others and God!
• I found a man who treats me right!
• I learned to laugh again with true appreciation of life!

So, in summation, it was a year, which I was apparently more pleased with than I first thought upon initial recall. Good thing I made lists. Tomorrow my family will celebrate 23 years of life since I landed, and Saturday my friends will celebrate surviving thus far and the potential for life yet to be lived. I don't know how else to say it, or if it will even get across what I want to say at all, but here goes: yesterday helped to shape me into who I am, and the day before that and the year before that; the good, the bad and the ugly. Yesterday does not hold me, however; I am no longer defined by who I was yesterday or any second preceding that. Christ in me is who I am now, and who I will grow into. He holds every one of my yesterdays and all my tomorrows. And today, this day that recognizes my birth, is nothing more than a tribute to one more year that He has plans for me. I hope to live this next year in such a way that brings more honor to Him than to myself.

That Was Life

It's been a long time. I couldn't really tell you why. Maybe the sanctuary is gone. Maybe it's something bigger.

Life has become busy again, flowing and frustrating and full and lovely and busy. Maybe that's the way it's supposed to go, eventually. Maybe I am finally stepping into myself; not just writing about me, reading about me, processing about me; just being me.

A Breathless Homecoming

After six weeks on the road (look out for the upcoming hit single of that name), we returned Monday night with a desperation to be out of the van that was only somewhat subdued by the pressing nostalgia of another life chapter complete. It has been strangely difficult to slip back into the normal way of things, but perhaps that has a lot to do with the lack of normality in my life in general. Since returning, the only normal (for me) thing I have done is read Twilight; I was looking forward to it all trip because they're my getaway-leave-me-alone-please books for just such recuperation moments as this. There has been a whirlwind of things driving my life, including but not limited to being snatched up by a man (hoooorah!), potentially getting the perfect summer job (yeeehaw!) and doing a million little things that are mostly non-essentials but really need doing in the long run.

In short:

• I miss tour. But not really. I miss the ministering part and the bonding part and the giant meals together part and the new cities part. The rest is take it or leave it at this point, I think.
• I love being home.
• If I get this job, I'm set.
• I'm happy and will not let myself feel guilty for it.

Summer is here. Summer. Is. Here. SUMMER IS HERE! And I plan on living it with gusto.

Two Days, Two Nights

...and the accommodations in no way look like what is pictured above. Two days and I am home. I probably do not need to go into what being home means, as I have already done so continuously over the last few weeks.

sitting in a hall

separated by distance

too great to traverse

Haikus say it all.

You Are Stronger, Sin Is Broken

For the first time in more than four weeks, I am finally alone. More than anything, I now realize that it is alone time that I miss while on this trip. There is not a moment, sleeping or waking, eating or walking, even in the bathroom, that is not surrounded by people. I love people, but, for me, refreshing only comes from solitude. My first thought when they left the church? Time to put on some tunes and blog. Until now it's been music in my head because, let's be real, how do I sing when I'm surrounded only by people who actually can? That's another thing: a soul release is singing and I've been deprived of that as well. I also want the time to blog about what's really on my mind and not just the meager scratchings off the edge of my consciousness at the end of the day when all of me is dying for sleep.

Here's my heart, Lord, take and seal it; seal it for Thy courts above.

I am not doing well. I do not get homesick very easily, but this is getting ridiculous. All I want to do is go home, sit in my room drinking tea, and read the Twilight series all by myself. Actually. Then I will eat by myself. Then I will sleep by myself. Shower, sing, cook, drive, go for walks...by myself. I love people, especially some people, but I need to get myself back together. This trip has been more draining than I expected. I am struggling with the physical, mental and spiritual wars that I already fight every day, and these have only been magnified by crazy food schedules and too little sleep and annoyances and too much sleep.

But honestly, won't someone stop this train?

There is officially one week left, and I will make it through.

Sidetrack: I thought I was alone until the pastor of the church came upstairs and we just had the sickest talk. That kind of alone time I can handle: the kind where I am being poured into and encouraged by someone wiser than myself. What an encouragement! It has been so long since a stranger who so clearly knows nothing about me speaks so clearly into who God has called me to be. His main premise: if I am called to preach, preach. Don't get shoved into children's work or youth work or doing the dishes just because I am a woman. Preach the Gospel whether they are 8 or 80 and do it with the confidence that comes from being called with purpose of God. And be mentored under a person who loves the Word, heals the sick when they pray, and will be a positive enforcer of gifts. Wow. This is what I needed right now. Everything else I was going to write was about confusion for the summer and just how exhausting it is to not know my next step, but this really was refreshing. Thank You, Lord.

Immeasurably More

That pretty ball of light is your head as I rip it off your body. Slash that was just a dream I had last night before commencing our 18 hour drive today.

Home. Home is exactly where I want to be.

Jesus, it was May 21st. Did You not see the signs held up on every corner in New York City or read the pamphlets all about how You were supposed to come back today? Why oh why did You not?

Random Jumble:

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The Riot in My Heart Decides to Keep Me Open and Alive

I don't know which is worse: watching something new that breaks my heart, or listening to something old that does the same thing.

Eleven more days and I am home. I don't want this to turn into a countdown because that is not what it is meant to be. I know I will miss this and want this and wish I had done things differently once it is over, but for now I long for the same old: my bed, my shower, my own food and my own life. I miss alone time.

We passed endless streams of perfectly calm lakes on our trip today. The water was completely still, but on it raged the cloud and sunset sky, and acres of perfect pointing pines. That is exactly how I feel. If you look for water, you see the flatness and smoothness of nothing wrinkling the surface; if you look at what it is reflecting, you see something entirely different.

Another hotel tonight, and then onward. It seems mundane, but there is something growing inside me that I cannot explain. On the surface it is invisible; from another angle, it is breath-taking. When it grows to fullness...words fail.

You. Make. Me.

Two weeks left. I sing the same songs, eat the same food, perform in the same churches, sleep on the same beds. Every day the same. Every night the same. It is all running together into one giant melting pot. I need something giant to shake me awake. Please don't let it be the wrong kind.