Thursday, April 22, 2004

Hey, I have a comment system finally! I'm a genius...a very slow genius. Now if only I knew how to change the color.
...I miss my roommate already. I have a feeling that this will be a long weekend.

Wednesday, April 21, 2004

Friends are lovely :-)
Amanda and I have been having wonderful imaginings of late; great ways to shed some of the excess seriousness college life weighs us down with. For example, pretend if you will that there is no such thing as wind and the trees move on purpose. I must admit I find them a little more frightening that way...
Another great one she wrote out on her own were dreams our feet have when they fall asleep. I highly recommend asking for a copy.
Yesterday we were pretending together as we walked to supper. She told me to close my eyes and then asked where I was. I answered "Walking into a pole." Then with a little more seriousness (because imaginings should be taken seriously if they're to be done at all properly) we walked, each in our own world, side-by-side. This afternoon Amanda presented me with a poem to commemorate the fun. I think it's the first poem anyone ever gave me. Yay!

"For Jenny"

Together we walked, side-by-side it would seem
But each of our minds were caught in a dream.
I stood on the moors with wind swept hills
And she in a forest amidst foggy swirls.
We laughed as we walked, the same wind we did feel
But each of our winds were from different worlds.
I was now a pirate sailing seven seas
And she... I don't know... she didn't tell me.
My thoughts, though full, her presence did lack
And so me and my friend, we came to a pact:
"You walk in your world and I'll walk in mine
And maybe we'll visit each others' sometime."

Tuesday, April 20, 2004

I've been ordered by Wilson to post more often. So, to avoid being exiled away to the "rare post" box, I obey. Have you ever had a piano lesson, or watched someone else suffer through one? My typing method right now would make any piano teacher proud. Lack of flexibility in my left wrist puts my hand in perfect form, horribly uncomfortable though.
This morning I was looking through things on my computer and found an unfinished blog entry. It looks remarkably similar to thoughts I've had at the end of the past three months. Amazement at what I've come through, and hope for the next month to be better. And though life keeps on full force, the way I deal with it is slowly changing. I no longer perch on the edge of despair at each new twist. God is at work, but I have a vague sensation of running in place because the lesson plans lately look awfully familiar.
I watched a little girl at a church banquet the other week. She was sitting on her father's lap playing with a little bowl decorating the table. The girl being curious took off the lid, only to discover she couldn't get it back on. I watched as she randomly pounded the two pieces together trying to make them fit. Then, once she realized she couldn't do it on her own, she held out the piece and waited for her father to fix it. Basically that’s what I’ve been doing with God lately.
My roommate and I have been balancing the fine line between sanity and pounding our head against the wall for far too long. I've learned something though. Yes, following God can take unexpected detours and even lead off the map...but that doesn't mean I'm driving around in a bumper car. I shouldn't be crashing into everything, bouncing off walls, guessing, testing, and trying everything before finally finding what I'm supposed to be doing.
One of my professors loves to use the phrase, "do the next right thing." It gets a little old after awhile but I suppose she's right. As far as I can make out, God only promises the strength for today. Three years ago the road I've just come down would have seemed very much impossible. The thing that scares me as I look ahead now is that I honestly don't know if I'll have the courage to keep following. The more I get to know my Lord though, the more I learn my courage is of little consequence, I have no choice but to follow. Really wish I knew where though.

Monday, April 05, 2004

I lay here tonight, pretending to be brave. Tomorrow will come and go, like every other day thus far. And at the end, it will have its own worries and new twists. But for now, tomorrow's reallity seems a little cold and painful. This time tomorrow Sam will be gone. I wanted to say goodbye, give him one more hug. I couldn't bring myself to though. I said goodbye once and part of me wants to cling to that time, when I was allowed to cry. Its a bit selfish of me, I'm sorry. I am praying that he'll find the home he's always wanted when he arrives.
I'm not brave about the surgery tomorrow either. I sit here and look at my arm, enjoy one more hour of freedom. I know it'll be better after the surgery, but it's tough to give up the familiar scars and wounds for new ones. The knotted, stripey scars down both sides of my wrist bring back memories I'm afraid I'll lose otherwise. Small glimpses back of ordanary daily life in a mission boarding school. Links to a time and place that no longer exist.
A comfortable, known hurt compared to the unknown promise that will be me after tomorrow.
Ok, it's almost 12 now and I should cease my ramblings and do something more useful, like sleeping.
Goodnight.