A Heart Will Beat Passion.

Claiming rationality:

Caught in the appeal of argument-

Fair/Unfair/Untrue, definitions mean nothing-

You don't see the tears that hide behind my

Genuine Assurance.

Carefully subdued, but

You clearly don't know me.

Why do you insist on attacking my Truth?

Am I in need of an education?

Is your reality somehow more tangible,

Your death more meaningful in its futility,?

Does the repulsive history of man's sin

Somehow validate your point?

No. It augments mine.

When I pray, I pray action.

When I pray, my God listens.

The fact that you do not

Acknowledge Him

Does not make him any less

Real.

Snap out of it!

It's time for a deep breath. Then perhaps a shower. Then reading, reading, reading, reading, reading. Today has been a waste of a day. Really, it has. I'm not exaggerating the way you think I am.

In Andrey Platonov's "The Foundation Pit," a male character, weak and feeble-minded with ambition that later saw him dead, rejected some lovesick woman with a note,

"Once the table groaned with fare,
Now there's just a coffin there.
-Kozlov"

I didn't like Kozlov very much. But I thought his method of "disclaiming the responbsibility of love" (aka. dumping his girlfriend) was straight out of some Portland indie film. Or something. Oh the creative genius of 1930's, censored, Soviet writers. We all have pain, but they had lots.

Musings.

When I was younger, I dreamt of jumping head first into a cloud. From below, I perceived it to be made up of substance as soft as my mother's shoulder, as sweet as whipped cream and as dry and cool as slipping into the fresh sheets of a made bed. The luxury of submerging myself into something so largely wonderful is still appealing. This afternoon, there were scoops of cloud floating in the distance at a perfect contrast to the sky; white fluff suspended before layers of projector transparencies tinted blue with old Vis-à-vis remnant. Our God is an artist.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

There is a tapping in my dorm room wall, except now it is in my head: the tapping is real, it is just that the intensity of my annoyance is heightened by consciousness. I am sure that wasn’t grammatically correct. Anyway, this tapping makes it difficult to sleep. So, the last two nights have been spent in the beds of gracious, darling friends. I can’t, however, continue this way for the next two months. Ugh. I guess I will invest in some earplugs and hope that I will hear my alarm through them in the morning? That question mark was not appropriately placed.

I am really losing form, here.

Kristina and I watched 27 Dresses last night and talked and gave our life stories. Or… kind-of. I told her about my life pre-car accident and post. That is always a fun story. Just kidding, it sucks. It is true, though.

I filled out my housing form for Biola yesterday. It was super exciting and slightly nerve-wracking at the same time. Yikes. Big risk = big reward. That is the thing to remember.

“When you get down, there’s one thing to remember: there’s such a thing as trying too hard.”

I really am stoked to get down there. I get to study the word in an academic setting! How cool is that?! And I will totally meet people and make friends. No problem. Psh: easy as pie. (How convincing was that last part? I know it needs some work). Didn’t I write the other day about not stressing in regards to the future? I swear I retain this stuff. Really I do.

Procrastination.

Stop this train. I want to get off and go home again. I can’t take the speed it is moving in. I know I can’t but, honestly, won’t someone stop this train.

John Mayer’s poignant song about growing up has been rolling around in my head (and my heart) for roughly two months now. It’s a good song so I haven’t been trying all that hard to be rid of it.

Does it ever go away? The uncertainty about the future, I mean. I have a sneaking suspicion that it doesn’t. I am already coming to terms with it. God is teaching me, over and over again, that I can’t know what is coming next and that to stress about it is so completely useless that I might as well worry that the roof will get wet when it rains. What a folly, how feeble-minded. I am not really saying anything of substance.

I have class in twenty minutes and have not yet written a cover letter for a Journalism scholarship that I really should have mailed by Friday. (No mother, I still haven’t taken care of it). So, of course, I am using this time to write this blog. It is nice to have an outlet like this.

Oh gracious. Time to visit Huntsberger in Broadcast Practices. Right.

Okay, here goes nothing.

What a season it has been. Perhaps I am confused and the season is not over. I still have reading and scholarships up to my nose (my nose, which is fed up with the stress of existence on my face and is thinking of taking after Kovalyov’s nose – creative Gogol, giving ideas to noses everywhere). I am still searching for motivation and attempting to glorify God with my body, a.k.a. eating right (mostly) and working out. BUT, there has been a change. And so I must conclude that, no, I am not confused. I have entered a new season of life. This one might closely resemble the last, but I have arrived nonetheless.

You see, I have been praying for clarity in regards to this summer and next year. As it turns out, God provides these things, “If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him” (please see James 1:5).

So, I have decided to pursue Biola University.

I know what you are thinking. Yes, a tuna sandwich would be delicious right now. And yes, it might seem that I have been pursuing Biola for over a month now. But up until this point I was uncommitted. There were a lot of “maybe’s” and “might’s” and “we’ll see’s.” Now, however, I am buckling down and proceeding full steam ahead. I feel confident that the Lord will provide what I need to get to Biola, and all that I will need once I arrive. Is it scary to move to a strange and dry place where people dress nicely and home is a long and stomach-aching 18 hours away? Why yes, yes it is. Do I trust that God has a plan and that I will find the community that I have been thirsting for? Why yes, God-willing I do. (I sure have been asking a lot of questions. I tend to overuse favorite writing techniques. Oh well).

Pray for me, will you? This feels like California Adventure’s Tower of Terror all over again. Terrifying, but worth the ride.