A Proposal

Who is able? Who is willing? If the groom comes and says, "Choose me! Choose me!" but she says, "Oh... Not today..." will he come back? How many times will he return and ask her, beg her, to choose him? And how many times will she, a silly girl with nothing, turn away the one who is everything? Will his love for her waiver? what stops her from dropping whatever reservations she has to choose him, not just once, but everyday, forever? Does she not understand enough about who he is to honor his request for her? She figures. This thing I'm holding is too valuable to be dropped. She frets. She fears. These things I'm holding are too dangerous to be dropped and if they were, they will make a mess. The groom says, "I've done everything for you. Choose me." She listens. She believes; yet, she clings. She walks to the door and presses a weary forehead against the solid frame and listens again to the voice outside...

"Choose me!"
"Not today... Today's not good..."

How many times will she refuse? How many times will he return?

The Panda Says NO!

Bright and early Saturday morning brings a lovely smattering of high stakes bubble sheet questions and flustered essay answers. Can't wait for THAT. Until that heavenly Praxis Examination day, you can find me huddled in my room cramming my 3 and a 1/2 years of college into my head like a chipmunk shoving food in its cheeks.

I'm not ashamed to say syntax has never been my forte. I have several "Go-to" books on my shelf I constantly need to reference. There's one in particular that I grabbed this morning to brush up on my semi-colon usage for the Praxis called Eats, Shoots & Leaves. It is the funniest book I've ever read. Period. If you can't tell from the title, it's about punctuation and grammar... Which I am the first to admit wouldn't be the key to any person's funny bone. I've read this book more than once and today, as I hunkered down ready to get serious about my studies, I found myself lacking the restraint to put it down. I don't understand how someone can make me laugh out loud, and not just chuckle a little bit but really laugh hard... About something like an appostrophe or question mark, no less. The lady is a comedic genius and the subject matter just happens to pertain to my career choice. Lucky ducky.

Even if you are not a punctuation stickler, the book is hysterical. Once again, I'm genuinely amazed.

To Zoe.

To my faithful and single reader... Hi Zoe. I'm glad you're my friend and you talk to me about things that are hard when it's easier not to tell me anything. I love you for your need to be straight about things. Merry Christmas.

The black void that is my future....

Today I perused the Peace Corps website. Again. For over 6 years I've been thinking about the Peace Corps and I still haven't applied. Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever actually go. I also printed out an application for Grad School and a teaching fellowship at OU. It's like high school all over again... People want to know your plans after you graduate. I'm tempted to try covering all the options but it would all be out of a need to feel some sense of security. In High School when I prayed about where to go to college and whether or not Ohio University was too far away, God just said, "Where can you flee from me? In the mountains? In the valleys? Even there, I'll be with you." That was enough. It still is. I'm not as strong as I used to be and I'm a lot more scared all the time too, but his promises are independent of my petty insecurities. I don't know what I'm doing. It's terrifying and it's been a long time since I let myself free fall into God's plan. Maybe I don't even know how anymore.

There's nothing like being told you are humble to make you feel prideful. Seriously. Goes straight to my head. It's incredibly annoying.

Ferris Wheels and Knickers

Next Monday is my birthday. I detest birthdays. They make people feel entitled to the attentions of others. They find themselves in one of two categories at the end of a Ferris Wheel day brimming with cyclically paranoid emotions. Either they wake up and realize their day is pretty much the same as other days and find disappointment for feeling disappointed. Or if they are met with a shower of attention from family and friends, they are morbidly repulsed by the very tenders to which they previously felt entitled.

This Monday I will embark on the pinnacle of my collegiate career. Most of my classmates in the Education field have had a fraction of the time and experience in classrooms that I have been blessed with having before student teaching. They're justifiably shaking in their carefully selected teaching knickers. Regardless of experience and preparation, I am too. In the sage words of a Mr. Bruce Dalzell, seasoned performer, "It's just because you care." Thanks, Brucie.

Friendly Reminders

Interesting night Thursday night. I was sick. REALLY sick. Sweating and shivering, towel-over-eyes-lying-under-blankets-hugging-a-trashcan kind of sick. It's strange, but there are only two people I ever want to talk to at times like those. My mom and God. Seeing that I haven't talked to either in far too long, it seemed like a good and wretched reminder.

Not Enough

Tonight was Halloween in Athens. As a Freshman, I went to the big party on Court Street with my friends and was amazed at how insane everything was. I had fun dancing and shuffling from one end to the other, enjoying all the costumes, whining about how cold it was and "why didn't I think of a warmer costume???" I haven't gone since then... Once was definitely enough. But my friends still go. It's always like this, every weekend. Since I DON'T go out they assume it's okay for me to be the temporary mom... The one who can give them a ride if they're tired or cold, the one who will watch a movie with them when they get back, the one who cleans up their puke when they have had too much to drink, etc. As stupid as it sounds, it's okay. I know that I can love them by taking care of them when they are vulnerable. And they have always proven to be good friends to me when I've had a rough time. But this Halloween I found myself stretched. I feel like I'm ripped in half and I can't handle feeling like that. Another Halloween over and another friend calls, sobbing, because she's so wasted and feels miserable and she's all alone because everyone else is drunk and went uptown to the party. No, it's not a problem for me to drop everything. No, it's not a problem that there isn't any parking and I will walk. I'll be there as soon as I can. It's okay. Everything's fine. You're okay. Here, have some water. Here, let's put some pajamas on. Let's just eat some toast and watch a movie until you feel a little better before you go to sleep. I know you're tired, but if you go to sleep right now you'll get sick in your bed, and we don't want to clean that up, do we? and on and on it goes... Typical.

But what about when I want desperately to be there for someone who actually is searching for God and I can love them, too? What about when I'm already there, being that person for someone who needs me when this other person searching calls and wants me to come find them? God may have been able to be in two places but I can't. I have to say, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I can't be there for you" Why? My heart bleeds out... For the one whose search is left in disappointment and for the one who fills her life with placebos to make everything feel all right for a while.