The cool night covers you like the chadow of powerful wings. The sky opens up a direct connection to things so far above me that I had forgotten how to access. The hunter is there, the dragon, the bears. Listening.
It is removed enough from the day to allow me to think more clearly and to open my heart and let him in. When I try to pray inside, I feel crippled.
One of the best things about coming home is going out on that loop again. One of the last free places that I can sing and pray out loud and not care who hears what I have to pray.
I miss my Father. I have been running too long. How can I push him this far from me so quickly? I need him to carry me again.
I know that what is bothering me is depression. I don't want to be this way, but changing it feels like changing the fabric I am made of.
I worry that this is another way that I am like my mother. I don't want to be depressed for thirty years.

One of the worst things about coming home is the doubting. I feel like things are secure until I get here. I know who I am, what I am about, and where I am going until I come home. It's like it has become a physical manifestation of reevaluating EVERYTHING. I can't do that. When I come back here, I often feel as though I am spiralling back into the depression and fear and doubt and hatred that consumed my childhood. I am not that child anymore. I don't want to be her, and I have changed.

I need someone to pull me out of the emptiness and into hope again. I can't get there on my own. I just don't know how to ask. Or who.

Now on my list of things to do later in life:

fill a room in my home (at the very least a closet, but preferably a bathroom or bedroom or small empty room) with playpen balls.

I want my home to come complete with a ball-pit.


This is not an original idea. I must credit Stu for showing me the webcomic where there is a cartoon about this. (if you're curious, it's http://www.xkcd.com).

This link should be helpful in calculating the expense when I actually get around to doing this- http://www.chiliahedron.com/ballroom/?efficiency=64&footage=100&depth=2&radius=1.675&price=.19&ballcount=11236&ballcost=2134.84

He is aptly named. Noah means "comforter."

I lie here on my couch listening to the music I will hear after i marry him, and though he is not here, I am comforted.
I made the mistake of reading those "tips for vulnerable women who go places alone even though there are so many men stronger than they are who want to hurt them" again. I know that they always make me paranoid.
I was enjoying having my door open and letting in the cool wet night air. Then I started thinking about how it was a bad idea because it was probably unsafe.

I am not a feminist.
I am scared of men because they are stronger than me and they've hurt me before.
Rumors of ways people attack women make me paranoid.
That's why I always look under the car and at the car on other sides when I return to the parking lot.
Is this "caution" worth the fear?
Something inside me yells that it isn't.


I am marrying him in 80 days. I'm not scared of this anymore.
Here are the little things I'm looking forward to:
~ checking the little "Mrs." box on forms
~ calling his parents "Mom" and "Dad"
~ kissing him when he comes home from work
~ having someone to comfort me from the nightmares
~ filling out the forms to change my name
~ seeing him when we wake up in the morning
~ holding his left hand and feeling a wedding ring
~ calling him my husband
~ hearing him call me his wife
~ making someplace home for us
~ praying with him
~ praying for him
~ taking communion with him
~ opening wedding gifts
~ sending thank you notes
~ naming children
~ watching him be a dad
~ having children that look like him
~ working with him
~ loving him
~ being loved

I miss him tonight. He was sad, but didn't have time to stay more than 20 minutes. Even just being around him makes the day better. I had a migraine today, but it didn't matter when he was here, because he brings peace when he comes- even when he is as upset and sad as he was tonight. I love who he is. This wasn't supposed to happen to me. I wasn't supposed to get someone worth this much. Sometimes I get a little scared that I'll be told there was some mistake and he was intended for someone else- and it'll all be gone. Then I remember that life is not a nightmare and that what I tell Ashley is true across the board and not just for her. God is comforting.

supplicatory posting

So many people who are dear to me are discouraged right now. Oddly enough, I'm not. This is a strange role reversal. I'm not quite sure how to process it. I am rather uncertain of what to do...

Father, help me know how to comfort those who so often comfort me.

I don't know why I am awake anymore.

It is 5:03 in the morning.
I need sleep.
I am sick.
I am horribly bad at getting the things done that I need to.
I hope that writing all of that out will be good in the long run, but I really don't want to ever ever recall it again.
I am very sad.
I don't want to go to my dark room when I am this sad.

Deep down, I am still a small child, and the dark is scary.
I want to grow past that.

The tune to the old song that goes "would you know my na-a-ame, if I saw you in heaven?" is going through my head as I sit here on my beige colored couch looking at a wall of black and white.

I feel closer to God tonight than I have in a long time. This week has been good for coming back to him. While I sit here in the quiet lamplit glow that is my living room, I wonder if that is because of what Travis said or because I purchased a new bible or because Noah (and a couple of other people) are just shoving me right up against Jesus. I mean, it's like we've unexpectedly wandered into a mosh pit together. That's how shoved towards Jesus I feel.

I like my new bible. The cover leaves something to be desired, but the rest of it really makes me happy. It reads more like one whole book because they don't insist on starting each book on a new page, they just skip a few lines and go on. Also, it's in French. That makes my whole heart glow. I've been using it in chapel and in my classes to read along with whoever's reading a passage, and it has really helped me to understand some passages more. It's interesting because sometimes the English word is more clear, or the French one is- so I get to have it doubly clarified for me. I got it on Tuesday, and that day as I walked home, I read a passage from Revelation and then a Psalm, and those two particular passages had never really struck me as anything important at all, but as I read them in a new language... it was like meeting them for the first time and really understanding why they're in there. It makes me happy that the Word is finally alive to me again. And that I have an impetus to read it.

I've been thinking a lot about what Laur and I talked about the other night. I think we stumbled onto something that is pretty huge- at least for me. And since I know I go back every once in a while and read old posts, I'm going to nutshell it so that It'll hit me again and I'll be reminded to act this way. Here:
So we were talking about a facebook group for transgendered people who want the "sex:" field to be a type in field instead of a drop down menu, and about how the wall for the group had a lot of posts that were talking about how Christians had been sending them the Facebook equivalent of hate mail. And it pissed us off.
It pissed us off that Christians are so ready to resign people to hell and tell them that they've gone too far- that Christ can't/won't save them. It pissed us off that they treat these people like it is their (the Christian's) job to make hell start early for them. But that couldn't be farther from the truth. We have no fucking idea who is going to be wandering around heaven with us. We can't tell that. None of us can. And even if we could, that should be more reason to make us kind and loving to those who won't be there. Because for them, this life is their only chance to see mercy, love, joy, peace, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control, patience. This is it for them. And there is something inherently valuable about those virtues. Everyone should see them. No one should be treated the way we treat those that we feel are beyond help. No one.
Anyway, it's now half past three in the morning, so I shall head to bed.

Last night we talked until 5AM.
It wasn't that we had nothing else to do- we both had things to do early this morning. It was that this was more important. It was that the things we were discussing actually mattered. And they mattered more than a 7:45 class and more than 8:30 workstudy. They mattered in life.
And so we talked.

We talked about what this Jesus we follow really means. We talked about how the actions and lifestyles and mindsets of other Christians really rips into us. We discussed how we should change that in our own lives. We talked about what it meant to be God-copyers.

In our country, you can give twenty percent of your income without it even hurting. The government allows you to deduct what you give away up to twenty percent on your taxes. We don't think tithing should fall under that. We talked about it, and we think that you should give that twenty percent and then give ten percent to the church. And that if, after that, you put ten percent away in a savings account that you don't touch, it is proven that you will live very comfortably when you retire because it really does build up that much. Even if you don't make that much each paycheck. So, if we chose to live on sixty percent of our exhorbitant incomes, we would end up doing so much more in our lives and we would be totally taken care of when we were old. It just makes sense. Why haven't we thought of this before??

I'm getting really impatient and a little panicky.
I feel like we should be gone by now. It's still before the time I told Becca we'd be leaving, but it's just getting late. And I'm really not wanting to be alone.

I was this way when Papa died- and then Mama. I don't like to be alone when I'm dealing with someone having just died.

I know it's irrational, but I feel like if there isn't someone with me, there's nothing to keep me from getting a call that someone else has died or is sick or is hurt.
I just get worried and start thinking that nobody's ok.

Maybe it's some sort of mother-hen reflex that just wants to spread my wings out and draw anyone close to me under them so that I can be sure that they're safe.

I just want Noah to get here. I need him so much right now- it's almost weird to think of him as another person- I mean, it's weird to think that he's not my husband yet. In 5 1/2 months, he will be and I can actually feel comfortable depending on him. Right now, I'm just trying not to get ahead of myself (haha- not always doing such a great job of that...).

I'm not making coherent sense. I need to slow down and do some of those breathing/relaxation exercises that Aihley and Kristen taught me.

I think I'll try to distract myself with other people's blogs until he gets here.

I'm sitting here at work, going through the routine, and it occurs to me that today is beautiful.

It's freexing cold outside. The wind is blowing brightly colored swirls of leaves outside my window, and there's a draft that seems to be bringing outside into this office. I'm enjoying that draft right now.

I'm also enjoying that there is Jack Johnson music playing somewhere nearby- it could be from Tad's headphones, or it could be from the dorm that is right next to our office. But I'm enjoying it. It's reminding me of beautiful mornings last fall when Trevor and I would drive to Rock Creek for church. Those were fun soul-comforting drives. I miss them sometimes. But mostly I cherish the weary memory each time I call it up.

The sun is shining very brightly outside, and Dante (the dog) is outside my window looking at me. Earlier, when I was walking back from messengering, he was following so close that his ear almost touched my hip when I rounded a corner. I hadn't even noticed that he was there. Then I turned around and he backed off- skittish as usual. But he seems to halfway understand that I'm safe.

So often lately, I have felt like Dante.

What does it mean to be full of faith?

I don't quite know where to begin with all of this.

On the one hand, my neat little Christian-response-to-postmodernism worldview is telling me that I need to be proactive and start taking things into my own hands and see if this plan is practically feasible. That would mean hunting down Travis (even more intensely than we have been); finding a place to live; planning details; giving a heads up to people who might need to ask off of work or something; crunching numbers; looking for a job and a myriad of other things.

On the other hand, the striving-to-follow-what-scripture-actually-says-wannabe-early-church mindset that I have is telling me that this is a faith situation. It is telling me that I should pray. That I should trust that God's hand is in this and until our scheduled meetings with Brad, Travis, and Michelle, there isn't anything I can do except live each day and pray. I can think about what things might mean. I can think about the ways things might pan out. I can think about how this will change current plans. But as of this moment, there's nothing I can really do about it.

I don't think that it's laziness that is causing me to be inclined towards the latter strategy. It goes against what my personality would have me do. But it is very much in line with what my faith is telling me to do. I feel like Kierkegaard. I'm standing out over water that is 70,000 fathoms deep hoping that I won't sink because my faith is so strong. But, my question is: if I'm believing that I won't sink, then why is it important how deep the water is? If I am truly trusting in something that is worth trusting in, then it doesn't matter how deep or how shallow- if I don't sink, the object of my faith is of exactly the same strength. It doesn't change a whit. If God is true, then he is powerful. If he is powerful, then he can order things. And he's a lot better at it than I am.

It's been interesting to me to see this week how even the things that I look at (when they have not happened) and think that they would totally ruin everything- that if those things happen, they happen in God's timing. And that timing is something that I cannot understand. Because if this had happened at a different time, there would have been some drastically different outcomes. But because it happened at exactly the time that it did, what could have had all of the effects of a curse has become something that is showering down blessings and forgiveness.

In some big incomprehensible omniscient way, even our sin is crucial within the plan of God for what he has in store for us. And what he has in store for us is good. What he has in store for us is the very best possible thing for us. And there's no way we can foul that up.

tangled up in billowing waves

I feel like everything in my life is overwhelming right now. My mind feels heavy with it all. I feel completely overcome by all of this, but I know that there are a ton of wonderful things going on in my life! I know that! I can look at my life and list off so many things that are such blessings, but even those things feel like they're too much to handle.

I can't see the next inch of road, much less the next three feet. I know exactly what's around the bend, but I feel like I'm stumbling along in the dark and can't even find the bend. I don't know where to turn. I feel like I'm hanging so much on tomorrow's appointment with Jeff.

I don't even know him! I've heard good things about him, but I've only seen him once. It was a few weeks ago. He came in the door in front of where I was sitting in Carter Lobby- it was probably about 3 minutes until 8- I was waiting for 8 o'clock so that I could go to the records office and add a class. I was kind of enjoying watching people walk in, but feeling a little like I was there before I should be- like I was intruding on their pre-workday solitude. he waslked in and said hello to someone. They replied with "Hello, Jeff." I had heard that Jeff was tall, but I didn't know what he looked like or anything, but this man was tall and he was headed up the North Stairwell towards the Priesthill center. So I knew it had to be him.

I'm afraid of tomorrow. I'm afraid of what he'll tell me. I'm afraid of what I'll tell him.

I'm intimidated.

I feel like I'm being held under water. The feeling in my head is like it is being deprived of that which it needs to live and function. Just like it did when my brother used to hold my head under water a little too long in Mee-Maw's pool when we were younger. I think that might be why I'm uncomfortable around water. Or perhaps why I feel like I'm drowning when I feel inadequate or scared.

When you are under water too long, survival instinct kicks in and you start to kick your legs and flail your arms so that you can push up to the surface and allow the air to rush back into your lungs. My survival instinct seems to be tired and depressed. It isn't kicking in. I feel like I'm kicking (but oddly, not like I'm flailing my arms) but the surface just won't come.

I just got a mental image of myself drowning- in the ocean- and the fish were all looking around at me as if to say "What the hell are you doing here?" That's what being in school right now feels like.

I keep being really cynical. I can't tell if it's because of this summer or if it's just because I'm so sad. Cynicism has become the only thing my brain seems to be willing to put out.

I want this to end. I want to feel something akin to happiness. I'm tired of hurting.

When your blue eyes close....

I really enjoy missing him sometimes.
It's an odd sort of feeling- missing someone you'll see tomorrow. But I enjoy it.
I find that these are the times when I remember so many little things that make me love him.
I couldn't list them all if I tried for a hundred years, and who would do that? Why would I waste a hundred years thinking about and describing a person when I could be enjoying them?
There is so much that I enjoy about him- a thousand facets of his personality and character, the way that he prays, the way that his smile springs from nowhere when he laughs and, like lightning, shoots from his eyes to his mouth through his entire being- and a hundred thousand other things that I hope no one ever notices but me.

This is just to say: I love him.
And there's a depth of meaning in that that I may never be able to express quite fully.

I sit here in my room
typing on my unexpected-new-roommate's computer
wondering why it is that my head is aching so persistently
and feeling like a failure
because I've been sent home from work two days in a row
and I haven't protested.

I don't know how to fix this ache in my head
or this loneliness in my summer
for some reason, I feel like I can't reach out for it,
but like I need someone to come alongside me
and be there to tell me that I am not alone
that they won't let me be alone
because they love me-
not family, not N., but someone who is outside my usual immediate sphere-
a friend who is just a friend.
who has no other motive or reason than that they care for me.

H. just messaged me.
could she be the friend who is throwing me the life-preserver today?
I hope so...

i need rest.
not sleep- rest.
and a good solid dose of joy.

I realized yesterday and today just how much I miss my family.
And that they actually do love me like they say they do.
And that I love them more than I thought.

I think this is the first of many steps toward a better relationship with them.


And that God is answering my prayers.

I've begun praying again. I'm still scared, but that is no longer going to keep me away.
I'm praying for doors to be slammed in my face- so there will be only one way to go.
I'm praying to be made content with where I have been placed.
I'm praying for an end to or a comfort in lonliness.
I'm praying for wisdom.
I'm praying for accountability.
I'm praying for brokenness.
I'm praying for conviction.
I'm praying for forgiveness.
I'm praying for the strength to love.
I'm praying for patience.
I'm praying for exactly five miracles.
I'm praying for the desire to pray for others.
And as I was reminded by a very dear friend, I'm praying to my very best friend.