This morning I woke up in a room that was meant only for sleeping and I descended stairs to a kitchen that was full of food. I drank coffee that isn't see-through and I am now curled up with a throw blanket strategizing a plan for homework. Outside the streets of San Clemente are wet and the sky is a bright grey. In the distance I can see the ocean, stretching out to meet the sky with an abrupt line that must have been drawn with a ruler. The shades of blue do not blend into each other but contrast and mark the division between the heavens and the sea. The two are different, separate, absolute - much like truth and lie. There is moisture in the air and there is a hint of truth in any lie, but one can never be the other. There is absolute truth and the heavens will never be the sea.
Emily and I went to bed late last night - we didn't even take off our makeup and I when I look in the mirror my smudged eyeliner gives me a sense that everything need not be perfect, ordered or assigned. I am enjoying just simply being in this moment, in this house, and alive. I managed to forget my Bible at school, but I am remembering a Psalm - an early one - that speaks of waiting for the Lord in the morning. It speaks of trusting God to show up, to provide, to be faithful. The vague remembrance of this Psalm does two things for me: 1. It reminds me of my desperate need to memorize more (any) scripture and 2. That mornings are special times and that it is essential that we tithe our special times in honor of the Lord.
Perhaps I am simply convicted by the book I am reading for my Acts class. The book by Charles Swindoll is a biography called "Paul: A Man of Grit and Grace". The chapter I am currently reading discusses the importance, nay the vitality, of time spent in silence, solitude and obscurity with God. Paul went to "Arabia" for three years after he met Jesus on the road to Damascus and returned to become the saint we know him as today. Paul embarked on a three-year retreat! I can't even find the time for a day or a weekend! We fill our lives with busyness, stress, events, responsibilities and, when we run out of "obligations", mindlessness. I cannot remember the last time (if ever) I took a significant amount of time to retreat and meditate on the word of God and quiet myself to His whisperings. This might be difficult at Biola: I am carless and living on campus makes being alone nearly impossible, but I feel this is extremely important to my growth and to my relationship with Christ. How am I to "renew my mind" if I don't allow the time for my mind to absorb what I read or what I learn in my magnificent classes?
Also, I miss my family and my home and "my" car. I also miss my friends.
Also, I am indescribably thankful for where God has me. I am where I belong.
Refreshing.
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