I've missed blogging. And my head was so full of thoughts tonight that I couldn't help but stumble back to this humble little page I call home. There's something therapeutic about letting your thoughts go, resting in knowing you have time to write them the way they should be.
I'm comforted to know that God understands our thoughts better than we do.
I've stopped blogging this term for a few reasons... namely time. I thought this semester would be really easy -- I've got one psych class, a once-a-week public speaking class, and my internship. Doesn't sound like a lot, but by the time I get back from working with my kids, I have more on my heart than I can shove to the back of my mind, so my psych grades have been suffering a bit. And public speaking isn't too painful, but it's a fair amount of work. And it's always due on Mondays. Yuck, Mondays.
I've just been discerning a lot. I used to discern what God wanted me to do with my life so much that I forgot to discern what I should be doing in the moment. It's moment to moment, and I'm learning that everything is a lot more manageable when we're not so hard on ourselves. I've been less hard on myself.
I've spent this term doing a lot of things I've always wanted to do, too... I've enjoyed people more, I've put my heart out there more... I've even started "training" to run a 5k (it's a big deal for me. I don't run.) I'm getting scared about moving to Nashville, but I think that's normal. It's not easy to drop life and move to a big, strange city for 10 weeks. Then again, that's what I said about camp last summer... moving somewhere new ;). This time, though, I'm not running away... I have my life together, my heart together. This summer, I'm really going out on a limb.
I'm getting sad about leaving my kids, too. My last day is coming up for classroom time, and it terrifies me. I've really grown attached to my kiddos... I've learned their stories, been in their homes, met their parents and foster parents. These three to five year olds have become my heros. They've been through hell, but they can still giggle and smile and climb in your lap and tell you they love you.
That's courage.
It's so inspiring.. and it makes me so sick of Furman. I come from these slummy neighborhoods where my babies are living in poverty to the giant gates and impressive fountains. My mind can't keep up -- I go from talking to people in survival mode to people who will never have to worry about where they're going to sleep or what they're going to eat.
My faith has changed a lot as a result, too. I'm a lot more focused on the bare necessities... I feel like my heart is very exposed, and it's painful but I love it. I'm realizing how blessed I am... to have my family and my friends and an incredible, incredible boyfriend... but even more so for the people placed in my path in between. I never used to appreciate them as much as I do now.
Maybe because my kids are those people. I never thought I'd be working with abused children, neglected children... kids who have seen more than I will ever see. Some of their stories make me cry, make me think I'm not old enough to hear these things. Then I realize how young they are.. and they live these things.
So in short, these words are supposed to describe why I'm not on here more: I haven't been able to process my life the old way. I've just been living it.
"Living it" has caught up with me, though; I need to stop and catch my breath. Blogging helps me breathe.
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