mistakes and daybreak.

it is early thursday morning. very early. i haven't gone to bed yet, and the house is quiet. i am alone. all the lights are off and i can almost feel the space where songs of lost love should be lost in my ears. everything is more emotional at this hour. the plane of my room stretches just far enough, leaving me alone on the rectangular island of daybed. i stare out blankly, looking for my rescue ship on the distant horizon. my book lies untouched this evening -- on my nightstand -- an empty seashell on its own sandbar. i don't deserve the pleasure of its company tonight. marooned sailors are not allowed to partake in pleasure, only salty air and stormy seas.
the breeze outside moves past my window without much enthusiasm and i shut it tight apologetically. sorry for the muggy morning, it says. but i am the one who is sorry. i am sorry for my thoughts, words and actions that have led me to this place. it's my own fault i am shipwrecked.
confused, my face settles in my pillow with the promise of muffling the words i say under my breath. but my utterings are in vain, for pillows are as unresponsive as clouds, aimlessly floating towards nowhere.
the whirring of my fan finally settles in as a chill does from drifting ocean fog.

this morning i am no more than a castaway on a beach, tired of waiting.
and ready to build my raft.

my bags aren't quite packed.

i've been thinking a lot about Greenville College.
i'm transferring there in the fall. i wasn't supposed to. i was going to take a year off to save up some money. probably buy a car. but my parents felt it'd be best for me to keep going, especially since my end goal is a masters. i keep going back and forth between excitement and apprehension, which i guess is normal, but the new thoughts and feelings are very foreign to me. thankfully it's only an hour away, but i'm surprised how hard i think it will be to leave and be away from everyone. to keep myself accountable academically and spiritually...i'm good at making new friends, but i don't want to lose the one's i have now.
it's hard -- getting older. i struggle with the sin of worry, and when i look into the future i get myself all flustered about losing people and change and the unbearable mystery of tomorrow. it helps me to remember that life has only gotten better the older i've become. i sincerely believe this pattern will stay it's course as i grow spiritually, emotionally and mentally into who God wants me to be. sanctification is a beautiful thing.

i will say one thing for change -- it helps you to heal from the past and to grow into someone stronger. experience makes us wise. and adaptation makes us smarter. so i'm looking forward to all of that.

i've told myself i'm not having a boyfriend atleast until next summer. after my last relationship, i admit it seems like a nice thing -- especially with all the new guys i will meet -- but i really want to use next year to build friendships and keep my focus on the Lord. i kind of just want to be putty in His hands. make me, mold me, use me and all that. but it will be difficult. i'm anticipating that, without trying to set myself up for failure. preparation is the key.

so i'm a little nervous -- embarassing as that may seem. but i'm trusting Him. and accepting all things He gives me -- whatever comes my way.
psalm 3:5 is the verse i used as my "life verse" when i graduated highschool 2 years ago, and it seems fitting now: "i lay down and slept; i awoke for the Lord sustained me." it's a good reminder to be thankful for every breath and to use it all.

inhale -- God -- exhale -- God again.
and so on and so forth.

desolate.

the last blog i ever had was made specifically as an online journal to talk about how it felt to be so empty. my screen name was "callmedesolate". i honestly felt as though there was nothing inside of me worth offering to anyone. nothing beautiful about me. just. nothing.
and i was so gosh darn lonely. i felt like no one in the world could identify with my pain. i felt like people were tired of me and wanted me to pretend everything was okay so they didn't feel so awkward. i felt i was judged for the way i felt. i felt, i felt, i felt.

it's been a few years now since then, and it's interesting to see how my journaling has so changed.
there are still those angry lonely moments. they always seem to creep up when i least expect them, gnawing at the most tender parts of my thoughts and emotions. i think it's this desire to tell someone everything. i get tired of telling everyone something. i just want someone to know it all.
and i don't know why. does speaking change the past or the way i deal with the past now? no. will it impact my future for the good? probably not. will speaking make the listener feel good? will it establish a closer bond between us? i don't think so.
here's the problem. speaking scares me. when i start to talk, what i say could make us strangers. you might look at me and wonder who i am and how in the world you fit into that. and i'm afraid once i start i won't stop. i'll keep going til you have no idea what to say anymore. and i'm afraid of your reaction. i'm afraid you won't be there for me like i need it or say what i want to hear. i'm afraid that after all my silence, when i finally tell you -- everything -- you will be mute, forcing me back into silence.

the good news: not only does my journal listen, but so does God. and at those times when i am most afraid of myself and what has happened -- even in the middle of the night -- He is there. He hears my whispers in the dark. and when i am silent, He speaks to my heart.

a montgomery bus boycotter said "my feet is tired, but my soul is rested."

this blog is a product of many steps. honest. clumsy. mistaken. pure, sincere, grace-driven steps.
steps on their way from desolation to purpose to home.