Today is Thursday. My day off, and my day allotted to doing homework. However, hours seem to pass in thought, or distraction and I find myself at 5:30 pm only having done two hours of work. Thursday is also the day I go to counseling. That's right, I've started counseling. In fact I began a few months ago now. I see a wonderful young woman, who's age was actually a terrifying deterrent for the first few weeks. I decided that she could learn how to counsel while I learned how to be counseled and in the process I would be healed and mended completely. Healing and mending, in fullness, have yet to happen, however as time goes on I feel more and more inclined to do so. I have realized that perhaps it really is my choice. Day by day I realize I am more open, and more receptive to hope. In fact there are many things that have stirred hope in me recently. It is nearing the end of February; March is surly on her way. And with it the faint whisper of spring. I am still freezing, but the sun seems to hint at her warming so sweetly I can almost feel it in the tips of my toes--- my steps seem to grow lighter--- I imagine twirling.
I have this anticipation in my belly, the sort that comes with exciting change. For better or for worse my heart swells with the coming of change. I am moving out of my house. Yes, I am moving out of my wonderful, beautiful house. This house, filled with her 12 residents-turned-family; nestled in a beautiful, yet pained world; this house that has held me within her walls longer than any house in 7 years. It will be hard to leave. It will be hard for a number of reasons. Some for the people, some for the kitchen, some for the roof, some for the dog, and some for the final surrender of a world I have seemingly grown out of, but feel so hopelessly attached to. From the beginning, the moment I moved into that house, I was unable to offer it what it was made for. Intentional, personal, community. My heart, my body, my mind, have been so tired. I have expressed in the past a terrible feeling of loss, realizing that I have been unable to invest in the world like I once was able. My neighborhood felt distant, my roommates closer, much closer, but still distant. I didn't know how to change it. Then with the onset of school, work, and extra-curricular activities, I found myself home less and less. For a number of reasons, this wore on my old house, with all of its good intentions, and expectations. I fear I have treated it more as a house, and less as a family. To be honest, I don't know how I could have done it any differently. It was a wonderful year. I wouldn't have traded it for the world. These people, these friends, have helped me in ways they may not even recognize, given my absence. But the peacefulness of that house, the conflict, unease, and beauty of the neighborhood... it all in one way or another shook me, held me, and perhaps has made me stronger. I feel so good about leaving. I am sad to leave, which helps me realize how thankful I am to have lived there, and how much I will be giving up leaving. But a new world awaits me, one that I think I will fit quite well in. Smaller scale community with dear and wonderful friends--- The Parsons. I look forward to warm weather cook outs, late night popcorn and movies, chit chats, laughs, laughs and lots of laughs. I will be living in the same neighborhood as my work, which I feel very invested in. I know these people, I know their corks, and their stories. The blocks are beautifully littered with trees, and houses sheltering friends. Instead of living with lots of familiar faces under the same roof, I'll be living in a whole neighborhood of familiar faces. It will be good for me. I look forward to it. It does feel, however, as though I am finally shutting a door in my own heart that should have perhaps been shut a while ago. And this, this scares me. But hope is on the horizon.
Matt and I are leaving in one week for Puerto Rico. We will be going camping. I look forward to being warmed by that wonderful sun, and feeling the peace that comes with the green of nature, and the vastness of the ocean. I have no idea what it will be like, I laugh nervously--- thinking about what we may be getting ourselves into. But I am excited about the adventure. Matt has truly become one of my favorite beings on the face of the earth. I look forward to spending time enjoying that fact. I anticipate lots of laughter, lots of reading, lots of falling asleep in the sun, and lots and lots of swimming.
Change is coming. And I am well. For better or for worse its what warms my soul. Especially when that change means spring. It makes me miss Jesus. That anticipatory longing. Not anxiousness, but hopeful longing. I used to feel that often. As if spring was always just around the corner. Excitement, yet contentment. As if my feet were always about ready to dance. As days pass, I am more and more willing to surrender to that desire to dance. Skepticism, cynicism, weight, they seem to be fading. Whether or not its an illusion, coming with the changing of the seasons, I do not know, but I am thankful for the break none the less. So, surrender, peace, harmony, invade me. And spring, come quickly...
I have this anticipation in my belly, the sort that comes with exciting change. For better or for worse my heart swells with the coming of change. I am moving out of my house. Yes, I am moving out of my wonderful, beautiful house. This house, filled with her 12 residents-turned-family; nestled in a beautiful, yet pained world; this house that has held me within her walls longer than any house in 7 years. It will be hard to leave. It will be hard for a number of reasons. Some for the people, some for the kitchen, some for the roof, some for the dog, and some for the final surrender of a world I have seemingly grown out of, but feel so hopelessly attached to. From the beginning, the moment I moved into that house, I was unable to offer it what it was made for. Intentional, personal, community. My heart, my body, my mind, have been so tired. I have expressed in the past a terrible feeling of loss, realizing that I have been unable to invest in the world like I once was able. My neighborhood felt distant, my roommates closer, much closer, but still distant. I didn't know how to change it. Then with the onset of school, work, and extra-curricular activities, I found myself home less and less. For a number of reasons, this wore on my old house, with all of its good intentions, and expectations. I fear I have treated it more as a house, and less as a family. To be honest, I don't know how I could have done it any differently. It was a wonderful year. I wouldn't have traded it for the world. These people, these friends, have helped me in ways they may not even recognize, given my absence. But the peacefulness of that house, the conflict, unease, and beauty of the neighborhood... it all in one way or another shook me, held me, and perhaps has made me stronger. I feel so good about leaving. I am sad to leave, which helps me realize how thankful I am to have lived there, and how much I will be giving up leaving. But a new world awaits me, one that I think I will fit quite well in. Smaller scale community with dear and wonderful friends--- The Parsons. I look forward to warm weather cook outs, late night popcorn and movies, chit chats, laughs, laughs and lots of laughs. I will be living in the same neighborhood as my work, which I feel very invested in. I know these people, I know their corks, and their stories. The blocks are beautifully littered with trees, and houses sheltering friends. Instead of living with lots of familiar faces under the same roof, I'll be living in a whole neighborhood of familiar faces. It will be good for me. I look forward to it. It does feel, however, as though I am finally shutting a door in my own heart that should have perhaps been shut a while ago. And this, this scares me. But hope is on the horizon.
Matt and I are leaving in one week for Puerto Rico. We will be going camping. I look forward to being warmed by that wonderful sun, and feeling the peace that comes with the green of nature, and the vastness of the ocean. I have no idea what it will be like, I laugh nervously--- thinking about what we may be getting ourselves into. But I am excited about the adventure. Matt has truly become one of my favorite beings on the face of the earth. I look forward to spending time enjoying that fact. I anticipate lots of laughter, lots of reading, lots of falling asleep in the sun, and lots and lots of swimming.
Change is coming. And I am well. For better or for worse its what warms my soul. Especially when that change means spring. It makes me miss Jesus. That anticipatory longing. Not anxiousness, but hopeful longing. I used to feel that often. As if spring was always just around the corner. Excitement, yet contentment. As if my feet were always about ready to dance. As days pass, I am more and more willing to surrender to that desire to dance. Skepticism, cynicism, weight, they seem to be fading. Whether or not its an illusion, coming with the changing of the seasons, I do not know, but I am thankful for the break none the less. So, surrender, peace, harmony, invade me. And spring, come quickly...
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