I'm rather sad that I never got around to blogging more than one time on my trip. It seemed so busy and hurried with a lack of real Internet access so I just left it alone. In a short recap, the trip was amazing. I truly fell in love with Australia and New Zealand and how beautiful the countries and people were. Under the surface of the trip I was dealing with anxiety and depression due to a lack of direction now that school is done. I did my best not to ruin the experience and I did a decent job. But I think I needed to get to that place so the trip would really do what it was supposed to do and reconnect me, on a very fundamental level, with my Creator. Ever since my life fell apart I've had to rely less and less on myself and more and more on Him. Now that all safety nets are gone I'm having to cling to God alone. Seeing the unique beauty of that part of the world changed everything. I was lucky enough to stay with my amazing friend Marianne and her wonderful family in Auckland. They were such a blessing and while I was there I grabbed The Purpose Driven Life off of her bookshelf. It came in the nick of time and I highly recommend it to anyone. Especially if you were where I was and wondering what the point of this life is and where you fit in it.
The most life-changing experience was the skydiving we did in Taupo, New Zealand, on the 2nd to last day of our trip. We'd had it in mind to go the whole trip but money concerns and the fact that it turned really really cold while we were there seemed to be prohibitive. However, I couldn't get over the nagging feeling that if I didn't at least try to go I'd forever be disappointed in myself. So at 3pm we walked over to the tourist i-site just to ask. Before I knew it we were driving to the airport, suited up, and I was strapped to some guy named Joel. They were very fun and very professional while doing things like putting our hair up and goggles on as we went up, up, up to 12,000 ft in the air. The day couldn't have been more perfect - the sky was blue, the lake pristine, and the snow storm we'd been caught in the day before had snow-capped the most stunning mountains I've seen in a long time. Before I knew it I was blindly following some stranger's instructions to put my legs out of the plane, head on his shoulder, smile for the camera, then..... nothing....and everything all at once. I swear my heart stopped for about 5 seconds while my brain tried to figure out what was happening. Unless you do it yourself there is no describing the feeling. At that moment you are completely inside yourself as you've just let go of any and all things familiar, the air is rushing past you and in those moments you are existing in perfect faith. Faith that your instructor knows what they're doing, faith the parachute will open, but you literally have let go of everything and are holding onto truly and simply to faith, and faith alone. After the initial shock wore off I realized my glasses had slid up so I couldn't see well, and I had to force my mouth open so I could breath. At 120mph, nose-breathing doesn't work. Before you know it the parachute has been pulled and you are suspended, utterly weightless over one of the most beautiful places on this planet. It was wild! The experience completely defined the entire trip and everything I've been dealing with for the last few months, although it would just be the beginning of new realizations. For the next week my mind would flash back and I'd be there again - the wind rushing past my ears, the breathlessness - even now it can still stop my brain in its tracks.
Tansey and I had to struggle not to cry all the way home. Along with a horrible case of jet lag and trip hangover, an even worse depression settled in and took over. I couldn't sleep enough and when I was awake I could barely function. I went to the Bible alot during that time looking for help. I couldn't figure out why I was experiencing a complete 180 with all of my priorities. Detachment had started to take hold in a way it never had. I especially noticed this when clearing out the house to do a garage sale so I could pay bills. Everything I had once cherished and valued so highly was becoming distant. Every time I would hesitate over a particular item the only thing I could hear in my head was, "Give me your pearls." Which is out of a story I always tell about giving God what you think is so precious so he can give you something even more valuable.
I also couldn't explain away the constant nagging feeling that everything was shifting and about to change drastically, and the feeling that maybe I wasn't supposed to stay in LA after all. More free-falling I suppose. These feelings were only confirmed when the first get-together at Tam's when I got back and our friend John announced he was moving back to Florida. Sometimes I hate being perceptive. I think I had this idea that when I turned 30 I'd be ready to pack it in and hang up my adventure shoes for some 'settled' life with a home and kids. Now that it's nearly here I am realizing that I don't want that anymore, maybe I never truly did, at least not in the traditional nuclear form. I'm also coming to terms with the new things I DO want for myself. With my life completely in God's hands, I've let go of the steering wheel and am awaiting instructions. I've done that before though and still I find parts of myself that I've held back. Letting go is a continuous thing, something you have to do everyday. I can't get over the odd feeling that I'm sitting at the bus station without a clear destination, but I need to be ready. So far he's provided my rent and bill money when I ran out of every source I could think of. Shannon made a fine point that since we're both such 'doers' maybe this is our lesson to 'do' less and trust more.
So far I've applied for some NGO and UN jobs in Paris, London, Boston, and quite a few jobs here in LA. The epiphany that eventually Shannon and I want to open our own non-profit has been enlightening. But I'm impatient at times. The waiting is very tiring and frustrating and scary but there is something exhilarating about letting go and letting God. We can always say that we're doing that but when we're comfortable with savings accounts, employment, friends...we don't really have to. My pastor Erwin says that if we're not living life half scared out of our minds most of the time then we're not living up to God's potential for our lives. We have to clear out things and give him room to do the fantastic. Because at this point and in this market it will take a miracle to find me the perfect job and that just what I expect Him to do. Whatever it may be, wherever it may be at.
I also keep thinking about a question my Aunt posted on my wall when I mentioned my OZ/NZ trip about how I can afford to travel so much while unemployed. I've pondered it alot because the worry that I haven't been a very good steward with the money I was given keeps pestering me. The only answer I could come up with is that in my quest to picture God as my father, a real father, which does not at all resemble MY real one, I've come to understand that sometimes he spoils you. I never had a 'daddy' relationship where as a little girl you can bat your eyelashes and say "please" as sweetly as possible and you get a new pony just by asking for it. My relationship with my Dad is nothing like that relationship, and I've found the idea fascinating. I just remember back to when I was trying to find the means to study abroad but kept striking out. I had just met with the school counselor who did nothing for me but improve my loans so they would eventually cost me less. After initial disappointment I took a breathe and thanked God for giving me what I needed instead of what I had wanted. That very afternoon the money for the trip came from an unexpected source and I stood amazed. Sometimes Dad's spoil their daughters, or so I'm told, and I can't help but feel like a very lucky 'spoiled' child with the number of things God has allowed me to do in my life. Now I need my 'Dad' to use his connections to score me whatever job he wants me in to do what I can for Him. That's the only way I can think to look at it.
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