Just a Normal Week

After reading my post from the 6th  I’m sure many of those reading are thinking, “Great, here we go again, I thought she was moving on and being optimistic. I guess the prayer from August 14th is a bunch of fake crap.” It’s not, I promise. I’m talking about the good days and the bad days, and learning that both will happen and I just have to move on. Tina Fey states in Bossypants:

The show doesn’t go on because it’s ready; it goes on because it’s 11:30…What I learned about bombing as a writer at Saturday Night is that you can’t be too worried about your “permanent record.” Yes, you’re going to write some sketches that you love and are proud of forever—your golden nuggets. But you’re also going to write some real shit nuggets. And unfortunately, sometimes the shit nuggets will make it onto the air. You can’t worry about it. As long as you know the difference, you can go back to panning for gold on Monday.

I’m learning to be the same person all the time. I’m learning that being me means bouncing back, and being authentic. I go out of my way to love on people, and when I know I can’t do that, I try to stay away from people because I don’t want people to see me when I’m not myself.

I started this week at 5:30 Monday morning, and by 2:45 I was sitting in traffic eating a bun-less burger while driving back to work from a meeting in Plano. It’s Wednesday at 11:30: I’ve taken two quizes, kept up pretty well on my Bible reading, got eight hours of sleep last night, worked ten hours between two jobs, sat through nine hours of class, studied for six hours, and taken in entirely to much social media. It is Wednesday at 11:31, and I’m feeling nostalgic as I listen to Relient K. (OMG Mmhmm is ten years old!) Anyway… My latest task is prioritizing and weeding out the unneccessaries in my life. Martha Beck hits the nail on the head in her article Urgent! Urgent! (Or Is It?)

To follow your life’s guidance, you may have to reassign some seemingly important things to ‘unimportant.’ If you believe that pleasing your horrible boss or having a spotless clean house is a higher priority than playing with your children or sleeping off the flu, be prepared for a long and strenuous battle against destiny.

Because of who I am, I can’t cut out conversations with my friends like Brooke, when pressing issues are concluded with: “I’ve found that sometimes a two hour long phone call is a necessity. I’ve found that it’s OK to not be OK. I’ve found that in order to feel the rawness of human nature I have to let myself be raw and open and vulnerable.” Because of who I am I have to leave room for time when I am intentionally raw, open, and vulnerable.

I like where I am, and what God is doing. I need reality checks like those of Pastor Paul Garcia at Bobtown Baptist, and Professor Bill Watson in New Testament. I am called to fulfill God’s call to live an upright and loving life. I am called to give thanks for the gifts God gives me, and give all that I have because He will provide in my times of need. I know that if I seek God, His word, and spread the joy it brings the hard times get more bearable. I’m okay, and that’s all that I can ask for:God is fulfilling my needs.

I will continue to seek Him.

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An Empty Parking-lot

As I sit in the parking lot between Petco and Bestbuy, with the window cracked about two inches, eating my Chick-Fil-A dinner I don’t feel out of place. That is, until my radio shuts off because I have been sitting with the car off for a while now and it has run through the allotted time, and in this moment I begin to feel the Texas air closing in on the fabric that covers my body. I’m in sweats and a long sleeve tee in September, my once damp hair has frizzed up from the air, and I realize that though I have half off my chicken left I’m not hungry for it. In this moment, in a town I didn’t grow up in nor did I choose, I am alone.

I’ve chosen this path. A path that will leave me feeling this way for many years to come on many occasions in many seasons. I should be studying, I should be sleeping, I should be with my sister, I should be with my parents, I should be with my friends, but I’m not. I’ve chosen to shut myself off from the world hoping for someone to knock on my door and say, “let’s go”. But that’s not how it works.
I turn my key slightly to start my radio again, as the silence begins to be too much.

I want to blame my trust issues on my past, or the way I was raised: I’m aware of these factors therefore I am now completely responsible for my own downfall. I tell people secrets and things that don’t really matter, if you think you know everything about me, you probably only know the parts I don’t care about. I really thought I had gotten over all of these problems but the last few days has really shown otherwise.

So here’s to sewing together loose ends and hiding the stitching as I try to merge my lives.