I sat in my car, Over the Rhine playing, while I waited to shadow the vans of students and teachers on the way to the grocery store/back to our residence. I watched all the teachers and students walk out on a blustery sunny November afternoon, the leaves tumbling around their feet, early afternoon sun hitting them. We had left school early as it was the day before Thanksgiving and there's always some novelty to leaving school early, too. But as I looked at all these young women I had grown so close to in the past year or two- people who had been strangers to me 18 months ago, and in some cases even 3 months ago, who now seem something like family. I realized how thankful I am for everything I'm given. And I mean that in a continual sense- I'm thankful for the fact that blessings are continual- I can move far away, my entire life can change, turn upside down, I can move to a place where I know no one, and somehow I always find myself with more people to love, more people who will support me, make me laugh, make me smile. Of course, in order for the continuum to exist, eventually a number of these blessings must eventually fade out and be replaced by new faces. All the more reason to be thankful for what I have, who I know today, because it may soon be gone tomorrow.
We spend so much time planning our future, we sometimes forget to be Thankful for our present. So, this week, maybe I'll take a break from praying for things, praying about the future, and pray a little more prayers of Thanks for all the things I've been given, all the transitions into new phases of my life that have come, gone, and come again, and brought me safely and happily to this place. I know everything in the weeks and years to come will be fine, no matter the outcome, no matter God's answer, because I have so much evidence of my past that God's plan for my life is good, and I have oh so much to be thankful for.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Week 18: Let it Rain
Another week thinking about and planning my next phase in life. But life is what happens to you when you're busy making other plans and it nearly decided to plan the next phase in my life for me. A phone call from my mother on Thursday of last week about major health issues made it seem as though this Christmas may be our last together. She had had two bouts of major issues in the past- it was as if we had gotten two free passes- two chances at more time. Given the multiple issues she possibly had going on, it seemed impossible we would get a third. And while tests and a doctor's appointment a week later revealed that the issues were less complicated and while still major and risky, it was less probable that I might be dealing with my mother's impending death especially soon. But, for about a week, my mother and I were pretty convinced that she was dying (and we're still not out of the woods by any means, but the outlook looks better).
Suddenly, the possibilities and likelihoods of my next phase in life shifted to involve burying my bother, settling an estate, selling furniture, cars, determining whether to sell, rent out, or live in my mother's condo- using money from it to buy a place of my own, moving back to IL so I can adequately take care of things. Realizing all the things I would do alone- without family. Mom is all I have and I'm all she has- there is no real other family (that I would consider "family)- who would I put for emergency contact information? If something happened to me, who would make medical decisions, who would get what I have? Where would I go for holidays? If I ever got married, who would help me pick out a wedding dress, walk me down the aisle, tell me how to be a mother? And these were all the selfish concerns- let alone what my mother was feeling, her quality of life, whether we'd ever have enough time for me to express that I actually appreciated the sacrifices she made for me- giving up her life to be a single mother- all the ways she taught me how to love and live.
All my seventy weeks of planning and prayer- well, it mattered- but it made me realize my future phase of life is very much not in my power. Due to what I can only imagine as a lot of prayer from others and God's grace I felt more peace over the entire situation than I would realistically expect. Friends and co-workers were so supportive. I realized that I'd have to count on friends to be my people- my emergency contacts. I talked with my best friend seriously about these things- a refreshingly serious conversation. I forget sometimes how deep our bond goes until I realize she's still the one I'm immediately dialing after I find out my mother may die within the year. People at work were immediately there for me, and the prayer chain from church was ridiculously active. I got messages from them and good friends- simple things- yet exactly what I needed to hear: that I was not walking alone, that God would not have put me in a situation less than the one that was best for our overall good. First, I realized how scared I was of being alone- as it is just me and mom- I would lose all of my family. Then I realized how much God was with me- how my mother's life functioned, what our relationship was like, all my mother had been through- and I realized God really could have our best interests in mind, even in the worst case scenario. I had so much peace- as much as I did not want to lose my mother, I came to a realization that she will never really leave me- she's eternally in my head, in my heart, telling me to drive slowly as it's slick out, to be nice to custodians, to go west, to be what I'm supposed to be. Although the logistics and implications of the situation seemed huge and I was unsure what would happen in regards to my life in dealing with these things, as much as I did not want my mother to die anytime soon, I prayed, "If you can, take this cup from me, but not my will, but yours be done." And I meant it. This was astonishing to me, because my faith had never held up like this before (although, it hasn't quite been tested that severely since I really grew in it a few years ago). I felt as if evil were attempting to knock me sideways and my reaction was to counter it- with good, not allowing it to take me off my daily work in God, not allowing me to shake my faith that God is good and works all things together according to his purpose. Don't mistake, I was still scared, still selfish about the entire situation, but if God would bring something upon me, he would take care of me. I just asked His will be done.
Low and behold, I got through the week, my mother no longer looks as though death is imminent- although things are still very serious- and I can breathe for a moment and reflect. November 18th also happened this week- the date that will be the end of my 70 weeks next year. We are now less than a year away. That's somewhat scary.
This morning I listened to a Christian radio station on my drive to church- the signal doesn't come in strong in certain areas of my usual drive and when I go far enough east, it eventually garbles itself over to static. I only heard hints of this song at first, but immediately a memory of my 19th birthday, where I belted out "Let it rain" with my gospel choir in some black baptist church in Wisconsin- probably Milwaukee.
I often thought about what the song meant- just what was it referring to when it said, "let it rain?" What were we letting rain down? Was it a desperate cry for something to rain down upon us (blessings? Forgiveness?), a desperate, urgent, sincere cry of surrender to what God will bring, be it sun or even rain? Well, it was a desperate cry for something- I think what that something is depends on the person and where their life is at the moment. As my choir sang, we were all probably crying for different things- that's the thing about the body of Christ- different needs, different cries in our hearts, different histories, different places in our walks with the Lord- yet all our different voices came together in a harmony that said something and meant something to those watching, and those of us singing. There's something much more powerful when other voices are crying with you- for different reasons, but ultimately seeking the same, greater thing in the end.
When our loved ones fade away for one reason or another, our friends, our neighbors are all we have.
The song turned out to be just that- a version of "Let it Rain" and although the arrangement was completely different, I belted out the song in my car until it turned completely to static. I thought of the good memories I had associated with it, all the wonderful memories God had given me, the (literally) billions of small gifts I'd received, all the people I've had the pleasure to know and to love. Every moment, every relationship, no matter how small or major and longitudinal, is only a borrowed gift, something lent to us on earth but for a short time. Anything truly good can't last on earth long.
No matter what the year brings- with my mother's health, the end of my 70 weeks, the answers God gives me in regards to it, and anything else that life throws at me in that time- let it rain. Let it rain blessings or pain or forgiveness, as long as it's God- let God rain down. I cry this in both meanings- both in asking for blessing, forgiveness, or anything that comes down, as long as it's pure God. And I say it in surrender, to whatever He brings, because I know, somehow, somewhere, it is good.
Suddenly, the possibilities and likelihoods of my next phase in life shifted to involve burying my bother, settling an estate, selling furniture, cars, determining whether to sell, rent out, or live in my mother's condo- using money from it to buy a place of my own, moving back to IL so I can adequately take care of things. Realizing all the things I would do alone- without family. Mom is all I have and I'm all she has- there is no real other family (that I would consider "family)- who would I put for emergency contact information? If something happened to me, who would make medical decisions, who would get what I have? Where would I go for holidays? If I ever got married, who would help me pick out a wedding dress, walk me down the aisle, tell me how to be a mother? And these were all the selfish concerns- let alone what my mother was feeling, her quality of life, whether we'd ever have enough time for me to express that I actually appreciated the sacrifices she made for me- giving up her life to be a single mother- all the ways she taught me how to love and live.
All my seventy weeks of planning and prayer- well, it mattered- but it made me realize my future phase of life is very much not in my power. Due to what I can only imagine as a lot of prayer from others and God's grace I felt more peace over the entire situation than I would realistically expect. Friends and co-workers were so supportive. I realized that I'd have to count on friends to be my people- my emergency contacts. I talked with my best friend seriously about these things- a refreshingly serious conversation. I forget sometimes how deep our bond goes until I realize she's still the one I'm immediately dialing after I find out my mother may die within the year. People at work were immediately there for me, and the prayer chain from church was ridiculously active. I got messages from them and good friends- simple things- yet exactly what I needed to hear: that I was not walking alone, that God would not have put me in a situation less than the one that was best for our overall good. First, I realized how scared I was of being alone- as it is just me and mom- I would lose all of my family. Then I realized how much God was with me- how my mother's life functioned, what our relationship was like, all my mother had been through- and I realized God really could have our best interests in mind, even in the worst case scenario. I had so much peace- as much as I did not want to lose my mother, I came to a realization that she will never really leave me- she's eternally in my head, in my heart, telling me to drive slowly as it's slick out, to be nice to custodians, to go west, to be what I'm supposed to be. Although the logistics and implications of the situation seemed huge and I was unsure what would happen in regards to my life in dealing with these things, as much as I did not want my mother to die anytime soon, I prayed, "If you can, take this cup from me, but not my will, but yours be done." And I meant it. This was astonishing to me, because my faith had never held up like this before (although, it hasn't quite been tested that severely since I really grew in it a few years ago). I felt as if evil were attempting to knock me sideways and my reaction was to counter it- with good, not allowing it to take me off my daily work in God, not allowing me to shake my faith that God is good and works all things together according to his purpose. Don't mistake, I was still scared, still selfish about the entire situation, but if God would bring something upon me, he would take care of me. I just asked His will be done.
Low and behold, I got through the week, my mother no longer looks as though death is imminent- although things are still very serious- and I can breathe for a moment and reflect. November 18th also happened this week- the date that will be the end of my 70 weeks next year. We are now less than a year away. That's somewhat scary.
This morning I listened to a Christian radio station on my drive to church- the signal doesn't come in strong in certain areas of my usual drive and when I go far enough east, it eventually garbles itself over to static. I only heard hints of this song at first, but immediately a memory of my 19th birthday, where I belted out "Let it rain" with my gospel choir in some black baptist church in Wisconsin- probably Milwaukee.
I often thought about what the song meant- just what was it referring to when it said, "let it rain?" What were we letting rain down? Was it a desperate cry for something to rain down upon us (blessings? Forgiveness?), a desperate, urgent, sincere cry of surrender to what God will bring, be it sun or even rain? Well, it was a desperate cry for something- I think what that something is depends on the person and where their life is at the moment. As my choir sang, we were all probably crying for different things- that's the thing about the body of Christ- different needs, different cries in our hearts, different histories, different places in our walks with the Lord- yet all our different voices came together in a harmony that said something and meant something to those watching, and those of us singing. There's something much more powerful when other voices are crying with you- for different reasons, but ultimately seeking the same, greater thing in the end.
When our loved ones fade away for one reason or another, our friends, our neighbors are all we have.
The song turned out to be just that- a version of "Let it Rain" and although the arrangement was completely different, I belted out the song in my car until it turned completely to static. I thought of the good memories I had associated with it, all the wonderful memories God had given me, the (literally) billions of small gifts I'd received, all the people I've had the pleasure to know and to love. Every moment, every relationship, no matter how small or major and longitudinal, is only a borrowed gift, something lent to us on earth but for a short time. Anything truly good can't last on earth long.
No matter what the year brings- with my mother's health, the end of my 70 weeks, the answers God gives me in regards to it, and anything else that life throws at me in that time- let it rain. Let it rain blessings or pain or forgiveness, as long as it's God- let God rain down. I cry this in both meanings- both in asking for blessing, forgiveness, or anything that comes down, as long as it's pure God. And I say it in surrender, to whatever He brings, because I know, somehow, somewhere, it is good.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Week 17: Find me Somebody to Love
I've heard a lot of songs about love these past few days that have me thinking about the love we seek, the love we think we want, the love we really want, the love we get, the love we get to give and often, if we're doing what God commands, the love we have to give.
Seventy weeks of getting my life together especially involves my getting myself in order to be in whatever meaningful relationship God has planned for me next (and even now)- be that relationship romantic, a friendship, multiple friendships, mentor/mentee, even developing existing family relationships, etc. But of course, girls my age are getting married, just starting to have babies, and the ones that aren't are mostly all focused on finding a way to end up doing those things. It's as if we feel we need to do this to find purpose and fulfillment in our lives. We find ourselves so focused on trying to find somebody to love us, and if we think about it, understand a little more about the nature of love, instead we try to find somebody to love. Queen was a band of some slightly deeper thinkers- they asked if anyone could find them somebody to love.
But even this, is somewhat misguided. We pray and pray for somebody to love- thinking we'll get a romantic partner to cuddle and love and share things with. The Beatles said they got by with a little help from their friends and when asked if they needed anybody, they said they need someone to love. Could it be anybody? They simply say they want someone to love, implying it couldn't be just anybody. But the point is, this is what they want, what they need, and without it they just "get by" with a little help from their friends.
So often, we get caught up in romantic love and think this is the only type there is- at least the only type worth seeking for a long period of time, the only kind worth dedicating a whole life to. But sometimes I wonder if it were socially acceptable and common practice, that we could just dedicate our lives to a close friend instead of a spouse. What if we met someone with whom our relationship was completely platonic and we just agreed that because we are two people on this planet, that we would care for each other and love each other- even if we're two people who are of the same gender or different sexual orientations- we love each other regardless of physical attraction. We love each other purely for love's sake. Occasionally you see that happen, or something close to it in the form of a long term friendship, but not too often. Best friends move apart, they get married, they have kids, their love goes to more socially acceptable and naturally easier to handle/instinctive places- to their spouse and their children. Friendship love is less instinctive. There's no sexual attraction, no need to protect your young or blood bond. It's more of an agreement to love someone because they are human too- in fact, it seems to me that love is more of the kind Christ speaks of. What I'm describing is even more of a strong neighborly love rather than a love of someone you selected to be your friend. But friendship love and neighborly love are similar enough for the purposes of the ideas I'm describing.
I spent an afternoon in the city talking about life over tea with a good female friend who is also my age and single. I thought about all the beautiful young women I know struggling for companionship, a place in this world, hoping for the desires of their hearts. I thought of all the conversations I'd had in the past few months with friends- loving each other, listening to each other, lifting each other up. All the times I've come to work and felt safe with a group of women who would look out for me- we would take care of each other. We're so busy trying to meet a man to start a family that we forget all the families we have right in front of us- the odd ones that form that are the most difficult to recognize but also the most beautiful . U2 and Johnny Cash didn't just want someone to love romantically- they understood that we have one love, one life, we've got to do what we should- we have one life with each other- our sisters and our brothers. We have one life, even though we're not the same and we get to carry each other, carry each other. We've got to carry each other.
As Christ commands us to love one another, to carry each other, we find that to love is duty. We ask and ask to find someone to love when we neglect to love all the people right in front of us whom we are commissioned and commanded to love. And while it is our duty and it is difficult, it is not a chore- it comes with all the pain, beauty, growth, and strength that any love comes with. Love, in it's true form, is love- no matter who it belongs to, no matter who it's given to.
So if you're longing to love somebody, you can pray and pray that you'll find somebody to love- but be careful what you wish for because you most certainly will find hundreds of people to love, right before your eyes. And if you choose to love them for the people they are, standing right in front of you, with nothing romantic to hand you, you'll find a purpose and a fulfillment in your life and you'll find you have a family, or at least a person who will carry you, too. You'll carry each other, carry each other home.
Seventy weeks of getting my life together especially involves my getting myself in order to be in whatever meaningful relationship God has planned for me next (and even now)- be that relationship romantic, a friendship, multiple friendships, mentor/mentee, even developing existing family relationships, etc. But of course, girls my age are getting married, just starting to have babies, and the ones that aren't are mostly all focused on finding a way to end up doing those things. It's as if we feel we need to do this to find purpose and fulfillment in our lives. We find ourselves so focused on trying to find somebody to love us, and if we think about it, understand a little more about the nature of love, instead we try to find somebody to love. Queen was a band of some slightly deeper thinkers- they asked if anyone could find them somebody to love.
But even this, is somewhat misguided. We pray and pray for somebody to love- thinking we'll get a romantic partner to cuddle and love and share things with. The Beatles said they got by with a little help from their friends and when asked if they needed anybody, they said they need someone to love. Could it be anybody? They simply say they want someone to love, implying it couldn't be just anybody. But the point is, this is what they want, what they need, and without it they just "get by" with a little help from their friends.
So often, we get caught up in romantic love and think this is the only type there is- at least the only type worth seeking for a long period of time, the only kind worth dedicating a whole life to. But sometimes I wonder if it were socially acceptable and common practice, that we could just dedicate our lives to a close friend instead of a spouse. What if we met someone with whom our relationship was completely platonic and we just agreed that because we are two people on this planet, that we would care for each other and love each other- even if we're two people who are of the same gender or different sexual orientations- we love each other regardless of physical attraction. We love each other purely for love's sake. Occasionally you see that happen, or something close to it in the form of a long term friendship, but not too often. Best friends move apart, they get married, they have kids, their love goes to more socially acceptable and naturally easier to handle/instinctive places- to their spouse and their children. Friendship love is less instinctive. There's no sexual attraction, no need to protect your young or blood bond. It's more of an agreement to love someone because they are human too- in fact, it seems to me that love is more of the kind Christ speaks of. What I'm describing is even more of a strong neighborly love rather than a love of someone you selected to be your friend. But friendship love and neighborly love are similar enough for the purposes of the ideas I'm describing.
I spent an afternoon in the city talking about life over tea with a good female friend who is also my age and single. I thought about all the beautiful young women I know struggling for companionship, a place in this world, hoping for the desires of their hearts. I thought of all the conversations I'd had in the past few months with friends- loving each other, listening to each other, lifting each other up. All the times I've come to work and felt safe with a group of women who would look out for me- we would take care of each other. We're so busy trying to meet a man to start a family that we forget all the families we have right in front of us- the odd ones that form that are the most difficult to recognize but also the most beautiful . U2 and Johnny Cash didn't just want someone to love romantically- they understood that we have one love, one life, we've got to do what we should- we have one life with each other- our sisters and our brothers. We have one life, even though we're not the same and we get to carry each other, carry each other. We've got to carry each other.
As Christ commands us to love one another, to carry each other, we find that to love is duty. We ask and ask to find someone to love when we neglect to love all the people right in front of us whom we are commissioned and commanded to love. And while it is our duty and it is difficult, it is not a chore- it comes with all the pain, beauty, growth, and strength that any love comes with. Love, in it's true form, is love- no matter who it belongs to, no matter who it's given to.
So if you're longing to love somebody, you can pray and pray that you'll find somebody to love- but be careful what you wish for because you most certainly will find hundreds of people to love, right before your eyes. And if you choose to love them for the people they are, standing right in front of you, with nothing romantic to hand you, you'll find a purpose and a fulfillment in your life and you'll find you have a family, or at least a person who will carry you, too. You'll carry each other, carry each other home.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Week 16: Tears and Fears
I've had so many thoughts these past weeks that I couldn't focus them into one post although I tried to write many times. So this post is a menagerie of ideas- maybe I can at least keep each paragraph in the line of one idea. However, as with most of my ideas, they all seem to blend together to make one larger idea- as if my life is planned to make one large point at a certain point in time. It's very cool and definitely leads me to believe that things are carefully divinely planned. That said, I have yet to determine the larger point that all these ideas make- so here is the mess as it is and where I am in my 70 weeks:
In high school, there was a period of time where tears would come to my eyes every day- tears of wonder, tears of joy- just because I was so enraptured by the beauty of the world. I always loved this part of me, that could see beauty like that. When I started dating my high school/college boyfriend I remember telling him that. I don't think he fully understood and with that relationship, I lost the ability to see beauty in the world like that for a long time. I remember when the relationship ended- it came back to me very quickly- that ability to be brought to tears over some inexplicable beauty. I think it came back with my relationship with God. As, how can you love creation fully if you don't love the creator fully? Within the past few weeks I celebrated my three year anniversary of being me (in other words, 3 year anniversary of being single) which is always a thoughtful time for me. This year, I celebrated where I am, who I am, and my stronger relationship with God that truly developed within these past 3 years. I also celebrated my ability to cry at simple beauty, which I actually haven't done in a while.
I drove home after a typical day at work, but one that just went right. I had done decently right by my students and other staff, I had passed a test, delicious food was in the cafeteria, and my students had just been full of so many precious moments. Driving home, I recalled a few of those moments and just started laughing, then crying at the beauty of the culmination of everything in my day- my students faces, their comments, my love for them, the bond between other staff, the friends I had made out here, the way we can all communicate with just a look, how close I feel with all of them. And I cried in wonder of it, in sorrow that in not too long a time I will be losing it, and then began to laugh with joy at the fact that I could love so many things with such magnitude all in one moment. And I thanked God for being able to know that feeling, for having the privilege of knowing all of the people I have ever known and shared a close word with.I cried because I could cry at beauty again.
But, throughout the past few weeks I especially tended towards appreciating what I have now, but with bittersweetness, always involving a deep sense of sorrow that the life I have now, that I love so much, will be gone so soon. In about a year and a half, very likely. The purpose of my 70 weeks is to determine what my next phase in life is through prayer and to get myself spiritually straightened out in order to go to that place and do what I'm supposed to do there. In other words, wherever I'm going, I need to have all my spiritual strength about me because I have a feeling it will be a challenge. I talked to one of my advisers about working in the public schools eventually and said, "that's what you're supposed to do with this program anyway, right? Leave here and go where they don't have access to these kinds of programs?" and she said, "no, if you like it here, you stay, but if you have something set up somewhere else, then you can go." Well, I happen to love where I am, but I thought, just because you like being in a certain place doesn't mean you should stay there. Not everyone is me, many people select a place to live because they like the geography, the people, the places around them. They select a place to work because of good hours, good pay, good benefits. For me, work has never been about those things- it's a nice and very useful bonus that I am able to stay clothed, sheltered, fed, and cared for medically as a result, but I always selected my work because of the amount of meaning it provided. I feel as though it's not so much a choice to stay in a place because I like it- there's a sense of duty, or calling to be somewhere else. And if I were to stay where God did not want me to stay, I would be unhappy. Nonetheless, I go to tears at the thought of leaving this beautiful place, this phase in life, even if it isn't for another one and a half to two years. But then I thought, how lucky I am- I never fully leave a place totally willingly with a spirit of wanting to be rid of it. I always leave because I'm propelled forward, forced to move on by another calling, a new phase in life- so I leave every place I've been appreciating it and loving it which means I must live each phase of life pretty fully.
Despite all this, I realize just how ridiculously scared I am of the real world, of my next phase of life. I found myself realizing how I don't have enough courage to do enough for students in the public school. I don't normally think of myself as cowardly- quite the opposite, and the only thing I'm usually afraid of is fear. But I find myself realizing I'm wishy washy when I should advocate for my students- which makes me feel terrible and terrifies me at the same time. So, combine that terror with fear of hating the next place I go (which is silly since I've always loved every place I've ever been led, but I'm a creature that lacks faith, despite how many times I've been shown there is cause for it) and not doing right by all the people involved in my next phase of life, including students, family, friends, people I'm involved in relationships with, and God, you'll see I'm actually full of a lot of fear. And that is never a good thing. So, I continually pray for more guidance on my next phase, less fear, and more courage.
As it turns out, these ideas have come to a bit of a point, although I fear I've neglected incorporating a lot of my ideas and I don't really like the lame prose of this post. But I'll go with it.
Until next week or so...
In high school, there was a period of time where tears would come to my eyes every day- tears of wonder, tears of joy- just because I was so enraptured by the beauty of the world. I always loved this part of me, that could see beauty like that. When I started dating my high school/college boyfriend I remember telling him that. I don't think he fully understood and with that relationship, I lost the ability to see beauty in the world like that for a long time. I remember when the relationship ended- it came back to me very quickly- that ability to be brought to tears over some inexplicable beauty. I think it came back with my relationship with God. As, how can you love creation fully if you don't love the creator fully? Within the past few weeks I celebrated my three year anniversary of being me (in other words, 3 year anniversary of being single) which is always a thoughtful time for me. This year, I celebrated where I am, who I am, and my stronger relationship with God that truly developed within these past 3 years. I also celebrated my ability to cry at simple beauty, which I actually haven't done in a while.
I drove home after a typical day at work, but one that just went right. I had done decently right by my students and other staff, I had passed a test, delicious food was in the cafeteria, and my students had just been full of so many precious moments. Driving home, I recalled a few of those moments and just started laughing, then crying at the beauty of the culmination of everything in my day- my students faces, their comments, my love for them, the bond between other staff, the friends I had made out here, the way we can all communicate with just a look, how close I feel with all of them. And I cried in wonder of it, in sorrow that in not too long a time I will be losing it, and then began to laugh with joy at the fact that I could love so many things with such magnitude all in one moment. And I thanked God for being able to know that feeling, for having the privilege of knowing all of the people I have ever known and shared a close word with.I cried because I could cry at beauty again.
But, throughout the past few weeks I especially tended towards appreciating what I have now, but with bittersweetness, always involving a deep sense of sorrow that the life I have now, that I love so much, will be gone so soon. In about a year and a half, very likely. The purpose of my 70 weeks is to determine what my next phase in life is through prayer and to get myself spiritually straightened out in order to go to that place and do what I'm supposed to do there. In other words, wherever I'm going, I need to have all my spiritual strength about me because I have a feeling it will be a challenge. I talked to one of my advisers about working in the public schools eventually and said, "that's what you're supposed to do with this program anyway, right? Leave here and go where they don't have access to these kinds of programs?" and she said, "no, if you like it here, you stay, but if you have something set up somewhere else, then you can go." Well, I happen to love where I am, but I thought, just because you like being in a certain place doesn't mean you should stay there. Not everyone is me, many people select a place to live because they like the geography, the people, the places around them. They select a place to work because of good hours, good pay, good benefits. For me, work has never been about those things- it's a nice and very useful bonus that I am able to stay clothed, sheltered, fed, and cared for medically as a result, but I always selected my work because of the amount of meaning it provided. I feel as though it's not so much a choice to stay in a place because I like it- there's a sense of duty, or calling to be somewhere else. And if I were to stay where God did not want me to stay, I would be unhappy. Nonetheless, I go to tears at the thought of leaving this beautiful place, this phase in life, even if it isn't for another one and a half to two years. But then I thought, how lucky I am- I never fully leave a place totally willingly with a spirit of wanting to be rid of it. I always leave because I'm propelled forward, forced to move on by another calling, a new phase in life- so I leave every place I've been appreciating it and loving it which means I must live each phase of life pretty fully.
Despite all this, I realize just how ridiculously scared I am of the real world, of my next phase of life. I found myself realizing how I don't have enough courage to do enough for students in the public school. I don't normally think of myself as cowardly- quite the opposite, and the only thing I'm usually afraid of is fear. But I find myself realizing I'm wishy washy when I should advocate for my students- which makes me feel terrible and terrifies me at the same time. So, combine that terror with fear of hating the next place I go (which is silly since I've always loved every place I've ever been led, but I'm a creature that lacks faith, despite how many times I've been shown there is cause for it) and not doing right by all the people involved in my next phase of life, including students, family, friends, people I'm involved in relationships with, and God, you'll see I'm actually full of a lot of fear. And that is never a good thing. So, I continually pray for more guidance on my next phase, less fear, and more courage.
As it turns out, these ideas have come to a bit of a point, although I fear I've neglected incorporating a lot of my ideas and I don't really like the lame prose of this post. But I'll go with it.
Until next week or so...
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