Floaters

Today I was trying to explain to someone how I felt. Physically, I have walking pnemonia, and so the easy answer would be I feel sick. The longer answer would be my chest cavity feels like it is weighted down with fluid and my head feels congested to the point of exploding (That's a bit of an exaggeration). And although I feel better than I did, I definitely still feel sick.

But I think what they wanted me to explain was how I felt about life, and about my life in particular. And I realized, I didn't really know how to express how I felt about my life. Donald Miller used to have little illustrations in his books to explain how he felt about life, and I always remembered those so much better than written concepts. So I decided to draw out how I felt.

And this is how I feel about where I am in my life right now. I think I feel like I'm floating, I'm floating high above activity, noise, business and purpose. I'm not attached to anything really and I'm not moving in any direction I can see or feel. And the only thing that is keeping me from disappearing into outer space is a small strand of hope attached to God's faithfulness, which is located somewhere too far away to see.

I almost wish there was a big gust of intergalactic (I just used that word because it sounded cool) wind to push me toward some purpose. I don't think those exist though. I think this is just the season I am in. I've always attached myself to higher callings, like Sudan or Intervarsity, and although these are good things, I'm realizing I don't know how to function without one. I don't think that is a good thing. I keep wanting to fill my life up with jobs, friendships, apartments, etc. But these things aren't within my immediate access, which I think is a good thing. Because this enormous amount of empty space, however uncomfortable and incapable of being filled, is so good for me in that I am forced to confront the important things. Such as...

If I belong to God, and I am His, than He is my purpose. 

And if I am His than I can trust Him to guide me to other things He would have me do, but they cannot become my purpose, my raison d'etre, because He already is. 

And it doesn't really matter what those other things are because if He has called me to them than I am fulfilling my purpose. 

I hope these thoughts don't seem boring or sound like Christian cliches. I know all of this in my head, but so often the rest of me doesn't follow along with the application of what I know. And I think the more I truly understand these things, the less I will feel like I'm floating and the more attached I will feel to a much bigger and grander story.

ADELE v. T.SWIFT

Anyone who has ridden in a car with me for more than an hour knows that I am OBSESSED with Adele. Whether or not my obsession is healthy, remains to be seen, but she has such a richness of soul and passion that anyone who has every experienced any type of heartache can't help but belt out along with her.

Miss T. Swift, on the other hand, has a knack for knocking out killer break-up songs. S, SB, H and I thoroughly enjoy screaming "WE-EEEEE ARE NEVER EVER EVER" at least once every car ride home. So imagine if....

MIND BLOWN.

Adventures!

Today H said his name was Spiderman, and that when he grows up, he wants to be the tickle monster. I said if he was a tickle monster he couldn't be Spiderman. He chewed on it for a little bit and then decided he would be a giant. So when H grows up, he wants to be a giant Spiderman. I don't know how effective that will be for swinging from buildings or saving the world.

For bed time stories, I have started telling them the adventures of Hairy Mess and Budson. They are two terrible twins that terrorize their older sister Smooffie. Hairy Mess has no hair at all, and Budson has curly black hair down to his stinky toes. A few nights ago, Hairy Mess and Budson put a snake in Smooffie's bed while she was sleeping, and then tied twine along the staircase to make her trip down the stairs. Smooffie awoke with horrors, tripped down the stairs and was transported to the hospital. Hairy Mess and Budson thought they had killed their dear sister Smooffie, and with absolute penance they promised to eat all their vegetables and do their chores if only Smooffie would awake again. Of course, Smooffie awoke and Hairy Mess and Budson ate all their vegetables for the rest of their lives.

I'm hoping they'll get the hint. They're a lot smarter than you would think. 

On a more serious note, had a blast at the Grace High School Retreat (Forge) on Black Mountain and got to throw a bridal shower for a dear high school friend in Charlotte. It involved lots of pumpkins and apples and candles and other things people obsess over on Pinterest and for that reason I do not have any pictures for you.