Papers for days and days and days and days.

Oh, for grace to trust Him more.

"Oh, how sweet to trust in Jesus,
Just to trust His cleansing blood;
And in simple faith to plunge me
’Neath the healing, cleansing flood!


Yes, ’tis sweet to trust in Jesus,
Just from sin and self to cease;
Just from Jesus simply taking
Life and rest, and joy and peace."

Oh, He is good! We are made clean by his blood. My sin is forgiven. I am justified. From sin and self I cease. My sin is covered, atoned for, redressed: not in part, but the whole. Jesus Christ died on the cross and rose three days later. He has victory over death. And with his resurrection came the Kingdom - or at least the beginnings of it. It is already here, but not yet complete.

It is the "not yet" factor that allows for the anxiety. I am overwhelmed with the amount that must be accomplished in the next three weeks: 20-30 hours of work, 23 hours of training, 4 mini-analysis', 3 high school small group meetings, 3 research papers, 2 presentations, 2 final exams, 1 creative project, and 1 retreat. Then it is off to Ashland to watch plays and write papers, to Portland to see my family and my dear friends and to start my internship.

And in the Fall to return and assume my position as office assistant for AS/SMU. I have officially met both staffs and I already feel like I am a part of a family. God has been so good as to put me on a little office staff of girls who are servant hearted and willing to dive in head-first. They are sweet and assertive and it is clear that they love the Lord. And, even though it gives me hives to think of not doing homework for an entire weekend (see above: "1 retreat"), I cannot wait to spend time with them and get a taste of who they are and what they are passionate about.

I am currently in the library about to tackle a small piece of the monster that is my homework load. My computer has 28%. I forgot my charger at the apartment.

Welp.

Like a diamond in the sky

Okay, I think I am back. I know this has been the topic of my last two or three serious blogs, so I'll leave it at that. In all reality, who knows when I will post again - but I am posting now!

The last few days have been whirlwind-y. 48 hours ago I had no idea where I would be working this summer or next semester. Consequently, I didn't know what my Fall classes would be either. And though I still have some decisions to make about classes (to prep for grad school or...not?), I am officially employed for the next year of my life and I am registered for most of my classes. Now to find a place to live for my senior year...

I did next week's reading for my critical theory class last night and I am feeling rather proud to be an English major. Martha Nussbaum's Cultivating Humanity argues for the literature's role in making a compassionate, respectful, and thoughtful person. As children we sing "Twinkle, twinkle little star. How I wonder what you are?" and an actual sense of wonder and mystery develops inside us. What does the star feel? Does the star have an inner life? The child develops compassion for the star and begins to employ the imagination to understand what the star must feel like, experience. This very act is formative. How many people do you know that take the time to understand the inner-life of someone who is different? This reading reignited my passion for education, for narrative, for the imagination. I am so thankful that my mother read to me as a child.

I am almost finished with Beloved, Toni Morrison's magical realist novel about an escaped slave, Sethe, whose murdered daughter comes back to haunt her. I'm all about it. I tend to take on the persona of whatever I am currently reading, so right now, everything is sorrowful and fantastic. In my mind, I describe everything as internally and metaphorically as possible. I just reached page 259 and, for the first time, received a physical description of one of the main characters. I hadn't realized that for the entire novel, I had no idea what she looked like. Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.

Today: research, academic advising, reading, laundry, groceries, shower. And all before the AS new staff meet and greet at 5 pm. Rock on.

After

The air unburdened itself, and there, clear as memory, as if copied from a picture of some wider, less populated sky, blink stars. Actual stars form Ursa Major and whisper secrets. Though the wind lightly blows, all is still. Branches sway not, and there is no whistle, only the crunching of leaves beneath feet. There is no brightness but the spiral of yellow in the black night. Breath is crisp and clear and invigorating, the ground cold, inviting. The ground is cold and invites you to stay, “Stay! I offer all of this and more. Nor will I forsake you: you will remain with me until He, and you will walk again. Stay! My depths will heal and soothe you, I exist for you to walk upon – why, you were once dust! Why, you were once without air!”

Out Driving in the First Hour

When it starts to rain in Southern California
the streets turn slick and shine, and
whatever song is playing is right
and feels like poetry.
Whoever is beside me becomes a sister,
or a brother, or a lover -
and they fit into the moment
like a child in her mother's arms - safe,
sweet, like the smell that mothers
have: warm, like freckles bouncing from sand
to skin in the sunshine, beside a river
that shines, slick like a street when it
starts to rain.
In the moments when the drops hit
the roof, and run down the glass
in streams, like little trails
forged in wilderness, like soft
rocks rolling down a mountainside,
like erosion, only quicker and cleaner,
like tears, the Holy Presence is in every
smile, in every breath, like
He must have been in the first.

It made me feel fine, made me quiet

I'm in my bed and am having one of those gradual relaxation experiences. My legs are melting into the mattress, and my neck, knotted in stress, is rejoicing in the pillow beneath it. My jaw is slowly loosening. I've been on my feet all day, running around and enjoying people. I've made one or two great decisions and several bad decisions - with overlap, of course - but I can't go back and change those now.

I'm in a pleasant mood.

Tomorrow is my Theology exam and the day I will work five hours, do two math assignments, memorize eight lines of Middle English poetry and 10 questions in Russian, and write a paper regarding...who knows what. I was thinking earlier about this epidsode we call college. I am spending four years of my life living on deadline and constantly massaging my brain so that it will produce good fruit (sometimes any fruit will do). What in the world will I do with myself when I am no longer writing essays about the use of imagery in Elizabeth Barrett Browning's "The Cry of the Children?" I have absolutely no idea. I have absolutely no idea. What? Do I believe that I will read more? Write more? Perhaps. But it is most likely the case that I will revert to my old/current habits of "rest" - TV, the internet, mindlessness. 

So what? So I'll start to change my habits now. I'm going to write for fun again. I am going to journal in poetry. I'm going to read East of Eden, for goodness sake.

And twenty days later

Today is a glorious day. I have finished my theology test, turned in my Beowulf essay, printed my time card, eaten lunch, and am now sitting peacefully at work our little writing center without an appointment for another 45 minutes. Delightful. And even though I could totally go for a nap, and I know that after 2:00 PM my day will be solely dedicated (save the probable, unexpected appointment) to reworking my essay on the contrasting imagery in Elizabeth Barrett Browning's "The Cry of the Children," I am contented.

I am officially a month into my third semester here at Biola University. I realize that I like it in spite of the fact that the temperature remains within five degrees of 80. God has blessed me with genuine friends, a safe, warm, spacious home, a steady job, and the desire to keep striving. I never understood what the big deal about finishing college was, "The hard part is getting there - then it's all down-hill!" But, as the months roll by, I am comprehending that one might just give up. People do. The more time that passes, the less foreign this seems.

I've been thinking a lot lately about what I'm doing with my life. Am I getting the degree that will best prepare me to love/help people, serve God and further the Kingdom? What does the church need right now? Am I capable of providing that? Has God put a desire in my heart to fill that need? What do non-profits want in an employee? What sort of non-profit should I be looking for anyway? Is it important to be with a Christian organization, or should I be open to working anywhere? Should I go to law school? Would I like law school....at all? If not, what sort of graduate school would I enjoy? What sort of graduate degree will prove most useful? Can I know the answers to any of these questions, or should I simply seek God and trust the desires that he puts in my heart? Why does coffee cost so much money? Does Bill O'Reilly get dizzy when he leaves the no-spin zone? Yes, I stole that last one from Stephen Colbert.

I don't know. These questions, excepting that last two, are on rotation in my head every time I think about "big-picture" school. I have met with a couple of professors to seek advice, but I think it might be important for me to wait on the Lord. After all, no one else is all-knowing, all-powerful and the exact definition of wisdom.

I think I will be still for the remaining 20 minutes of tranquility.