God is Good

So tonight I got back from work, and was met by the sight of my newest sister standing in the kitchen, with my brother Jon in the dining room while our neighbors were helping to set the dinner table. And then I sat myself down to a crowded, yet love filled, table. We ate, we talked, we said things that were pretty well crazy, which is what my family does best.

And then we eventually got into the action of gift giving, (which, I will admit, was my fault - because I was practically shoving Niki's gift in her face), and then moved out to the living room. Jon and Mallory handed out their gifts, so did Niki, and we all watched them open their belated Christmas presents. And then Jon handed Mom and Dad their gifts.

We all were busy laughing at my parents interacting. Basically, Dad was delaying opening his gift and was busy watching my Mom, to insure that neither of them opened their gifts before the other. After about three minutes or so of watching them attempt to open their gifts, Mom finally gave in and pulled her gift out of the box. It was a mug, and she read the inscription on the side and said, "Aww, 'World's Best Oma'! How cute!"

My brain practically shut down. Oma is German for "grandmom". I don't know what finally got my parents to realize that they were holding a rather important announcement in their hands. I do know that Mallory ducked behind Jon - very similarly to when Jon announced they were engaged - and Jon said, "We have an announcement to make."

And the rest is history.

Nah, I won't end the story there. Jon and Mallory decided to tell my parents - and the rest of the family - that there was a baby to be expected by giving them their matching grandparents mugs. Needless to say, there was much hugs, yelling, and wanting to congratulate Mallory and Jon, but Mallory was hiding.

It was hard to divert attention away from Mallory, so I decided to do my best by throwing Niki her stocking present and get everyone to pay attention to that, rather than Mallory and the fact that she's pregnant. It worked for a few minutes; mostly because Josh has crazy fast ninja skills we didn't know about.

The rest of the night was filled with us all opening our stocking gifts, laughing, asking Jon and Mallory questions about the baby, like names they had looked at, and how Josh isn't allowed to be the crazy uncle. And then Josh started trying to straighten a doily. Remember, he's not the crazy uncle.

And then we all went out into the back room and played - or at least attempted to play - Star Trek Scene It. We did discover that we aren't that crazy knowledge based on Star Trek. We just enjoy it. But when it comes to very specific things...yeah, we don't know half of them. Except Nancy. Nancy knew some random nurse's name out of nowhere.

So. I'm going to be an Aunt. What a revelation! What a crazy turn of events! God never stops to take a break from life. He's constantly got His hands in our lives, even when they're minor things happening. Mallory and Jon hadn't planned on having kids until school was done. So...we'll see where God takes them! Now, we're going to see if anyone in my house can sleep tonight.

God, thanks for never letting us become content at the ease of life. Thanks for keeping us on our toes. Thanks for letting adventure and surprise never be too far off. You're awesome.

Back to Reality....

Is it bad that, even in my blessing of having a job that pays me well and being able to just, walk back into the building and pop right back into my spot as it was three and a half months ago, I feel as though I'm betraying another part of me?

I'm back home. Home. In Sellersville. And, naturally, with coming home for longer than five days, I'm back to work at Staples. How does that feel? Well, it's comforting to know that I'll have spending money - as it always is. But there's the flip side of now I feel as though I have no time. Yes, it's nice that I'm spending 38 hours this week at work, which could very well mean a nice fat paycheck next Thursday waiting for me, but at the same time, each day it's a shift right in the middle of the day. Which means that, by the time I get home, my family's already spent time together and already have stories that I can't be a part of because I wasn't there in the first place. And things are never as funny if you're just hearing about it, rather than being there when it happens.

So I feel like I'm being left out. I know that my job is a blessing, something that God gave me to keep me on my feet and let me still be allowed to run about and have spending money even when I'm not working. I know this. But...

My brain automatically asks, "what about the relationships? what about the people in your life you care the most about that you can't spend time with, because you're too busy working?"

*Sigh* I don't know. I assume that one day things may make sense again; when I don't have to devote so much time doing something that I view as being extremely temporary. I don't know if my outlook is a good thing, or a bad thing. My outlook on life is that one day I will die; and when I die, I will go to heaven, and dwell with God forever. So what does that mean for the life that I'm living and the time that I'm spending sitting in Staples thinking things like, "Oh goodness, it's only been two hours?!"

It makes me automatically think, "Well, let's just quit and go spend time with people, because people are what's important!"

It also makes me look insane. Whenever I tell people about my 'philosophy', sometimes I get nods, sometimes I get people that say that's a fancy way of saying that I'm lazy, and others look at me as if I've got eighty heads. Or if I'd just said something inane, like...I'm a dragon and will one day breathe fire on someone I hate just for the fun of it.

See? Crazy. (Imagine living in my head. In my mind. Yeah. Just think about it. Welcome to my world).

Okay. I'm tired. It's 11:48, and I'm tired. Am I sick? Or has Staples just corrupted my body in one day to make me feel more withered then I actually am?

Home

It’s finals week. Wow, what a bizarre thing, to already be at finals week. It constantly surprises me how time can move both exceedingly slow, and yet at super speed at the same time. Who would have thought? I sit here, in my dorm room, and find myself amazed at the fact that, about three and a half months ago, I walked onto this campus, terrified that I would screw up, or not make any friends, of just be in the same spot that I was four months ago.

But the longer I am on this campus, and the longer I am around these amazing people I am privileged enough to call my friends and my professors, I am reminded of God’s glory and His grace. Not only has he given me a multitude of new people that I can call friends, but He’s also shown me what I lost, and He’s shown me how to get back there. It’s hard, but it’s so worth it. To be able to fall asleep and feel love and peace…it’s something that I forgot about somewhere along the way, and I am so thankful to have found it again.

A year ago, I would have been ashamed to write God’s name in a journal entry – how ironic that I should be ashamed of my Father who made me? I still have a lot of growing up to do – more than I originally had thought. But I think it’s good. And I have the feeling that God’s gonna keep me here as long as it’s necessary. I’m still screwing up, but at least now, I don’t immediately blame someone else for the problem. I’ve recognized that I do have an issue regarding school work and getting it done, but at the same time, no matter how many times I screw up. No matter how many times I fall down and say, “Okay, I’m just too tired right now, I’ll get back to you later”, God’s still there. He’s still there with waiting arms.

So I thank God. I thank Him for the abundance of blessings he has bestowed upon me. I thank Him for my family, as dysfunctional as it is, and our ability to love one another and be able to sit down at dinner together and not have harsh words as our only exchange. I thank Him for the continuing blessing of a job, even though it irritates me when I’m there, I hope that the difference I feel will show in my attitude at work, and that I will see him more readily when I am at work. I pray that there has been a difference in me, and that the world will see it. I pray that, even in three and a half months, one group of people can change for the better. I pray that anger and hatred become foreign words and that instead, love and peace will be in their wake.

I thank God. Even as I sit here, dreading a final that has to occur at 8 in the morning today, I thank Him. Because I’ve found Him again. And that alone has made the tuition, the grief, the aggravation, the pain…it’s all been worth it, solely so I could find my way back to Him again. With His arms open, open and waiting for me to come flying back home.

Home.

Dreaming

What exactly is a daydream? My dictionary defines it as ‘absent minded dreaming while awake’ or ‘having dreamlike musings or fantasies while awake’. Is that what I do a majority of the time? Most likely; because it fits. I do fantasize that my life would be different somehow. In a daydream, I can do anything. In a dream I can do anything. When I listen to songs that are easy to sing to, especially in the car driving home, I belt out the lyrics and am sure to hit all the right notes, because somehow, I’ll imagine myself standing on a stage, lights in my eyes and an audience listening to me singing. And no one is grimacing. No one’s bored. Instead, they’re listening, and for some reason, they are intent to listen. Like me singing is going to change something.

But that’s just a daydream. If I did somehow work up the courage to even audition for something in which I would be singing either by myself or with an ensemble and happened to actually reach that stage of making it to those white lights shining in my eyes so I can’t actually see anything, I’d shake through half of the song before I felt comfortable up there with people staring at me.

When did this happen? When did I become so terrified of people? When did others possibly judging me become a problem? I can’t pinpoint any specific time, date, or even year. I almost wish I could, because that would just sound cool. “It all started midmorning on Sunday afternoon in the cold of November when someone scoffed at me singing and said I was atrocious”. Only instead, I just have vague memories of having a small solo in a musical at church and a few solos that were normally shared throughout my career in elementary school and middle school. And I know I wasn’t always terrified. I have a very vivid memory of me, probably at the age of like, six, (woot! I can remember back to when I was six! ROCK ON), singing to an old folks home with my dad playing the guitar.

He hasn’t played that guitar in years. I wonder if he even remembers that he has it. I wonder if he can remember how to play it.

I want to live my daydream. I want to actually, one day, work up the courage necessary to sing a song and actually have people applause afterwards. But my time is running out. What can I do? High school, I just allowed myself to be part of the choir. Sure, I tried to get solos and get into the elite choir, and choked at auditions. I knew my choir director well enough to know he wouldn’t laugh at me after I walked out of the room, regardless of how I did. So why did I freak out and why did my heart beat faster like someone had gotten the cue to make the drum beat crescendo and speed up? What’s the point to me having this ability, (Which, by the way, I’m not 100% sure I actually have), if I can’t just go along with it and allow it to happen?

I guess I haven’t given this up yet to God. I guess I haven’t given any of it up yet. That’s a sad reality.

…I’m sorry God.

If All Classes Were Musicals

Seriously though. If classes were either musicals, or humorous, then students would remember everything from the class. Take abridged series, and spoofs, and rip offs and anything else that makes us laugh and repeat it and repeat it and quote it and have a ball resiting the things we found funny the first eighty times.

If classes were in musical format, or so funny you were falling out of your seats, you'd want to recite those funny, factional moments over and over and over again. And quizzes and tests would be a breeze! You'd just have to sit there and sing out an answer, or laugh as you thought about the one quote to answer the question.

I'd be a straight A student in no time! I can quote half of Red vs. Blue episodes, Abridged series, spoofs, heck, my friends videos. If it makes you laugh, you're more likely to remember the cause of the laughter.

Random thought.