I love myself, I think I'm grand, and when I sleep I hold my hand

Well I had a blog post all written out in one of my last classes but it's been two weeks since then and it just feels irrelevant somehow. It has been somewhat of an intense week. I couldn't even say why exactly. I'm going to chalk it up to necessary personal growth.

I've been working alot, which I love, finishing up papers, which I don't love and now I think I'm catching something considering how scratchy my throat feels. The weather has been gorgeous but now has turned cold again. Such a tease. Forgive me if I'm a little off, I woke up this morning at 5am still upset, after coming home upset last night and not going to bed until long after 1am. WIDE awake though and obsessing over the many little mistakes I made at work last night. Everyone is allowed to have a bad night and I can, if I try, remember some of the mistakes made by my co-workers but I, of course, don't focus on those. I forgive those and move past them right away. I give myself no such amnesty....EVER. Growing increasingly more frustrated as the sun started to rise, I started focusing on all of the things I'm worried about. The fact that my stupid visa won't let me work more than 20 hours a week and how that makes integrating myself at work so much harder and how there's a new person coming in who can work more and what if they like her more than me? What if I'm not supposed to be focusing on this job and focusing somewhere else? What if I love it too much and it gets taken away? What happens if I can't find a sponsor so I can stay here? What if, what if, what if...and at this point you're starting to mouth the word 'psycho' to yourself. You would not be wrong. I have been disturbingly calm and faithful that things will work out and I know tomorrow I'll probably be back to that. No, let's be more optimistic, I know that in just an hour or two from now I'll be back to that, but this morning...not so much. So I did what I always do when I get to the point where the crazy starts to take over - I prayed. And then I thought, maybe I should pop on a Mosaic podcast (my home church in LA). I laid on the couch, miserably tired and miserable, and promptly proceeded to cry for the better part of an hour while I listened. Sometimes the message He sends is seriously loud and clear and for anyone with iTunes I highly recommend the Proof of Life: The Love Test talk from Erwin McManus at Mosaic. It's free, it's not even an hour. Anyway, I had about 18 realizations while listening that have changed the face of the game for me.

First of all I've been trying to squelch the love I've been feeling for a few things. Somehow I felt I had to manage that love because maybe it hasn't been asked for yet or because I don't want to look crazy to others. But I LOVE, it's just who I am, and its who God is, and it makes me a better friend, a better worker, a better everything when I give my whole heart to something. When it comes to people and places I shouldn't be afraid to love because I'm afraid of how it might hurt if I don't get it back or if that love is rejected. I'm pretty sure I've said this in a previous blog post, but learning is practice and practice is everyday working on the things you want to make concrete in your life. Life is a process. I feel so much better just having made it through realization number one, however, by this time I've had a second, more important one.

It was made more clear to me than ever how little I truly love myself unconditionally. I do love myself, don't get me wrong, but I love me with conditions. I love me when I behave in a manner that I deem acceptable, when I'm as close to perfect as I can humanly try to be. I love me when I have good days, when I'm feeling positive and I can do my best, when I've gone to the gym, managed not to fight with my sister, been able to give good advice or listen to someone in need. The standard is impossibly high and inevitably I fall short and then the drill sergeant comes out and I beat the crap out of myself. Oddly in writing that, that sounds exactly like how I grew up. I just didn't realize that even not being in that environment anymore I've managed to maintain the regime exactly and without supervision. Why do I have one standard for myself, and one for everyone else? If my co-worker forgot to correct the till by 2.05 and I had to correct it in the morning would I yell at her, wake her up in the middle of the night demanding an apology, and keep reminding her of the mistake at the beginning of every shift to make sure not to do the same thing again? Surely not, I'd be insane, and she'd probably quit because who wants to work for a psycho. I take my psychosis to the extreme. I just want to treat myself like I treat everyone else. I don't care how fat they are, how thin they are, if they're too loud or too quiet, or if they always say or do the right things because many times they don't. I could go on and on but mainly I just let them be themselves, whoever that might be. I deserve that too, from me.

Now that I'm feeling better, at least internally, although still exhausted from a serious lack of sleep, maybe now I can be a bit more newsy. Shannon and I just did a quick trip to Dublin since she had never been. We had an amazing time! The first night we ate at a lovely restaurant in Temple Bar that served Murphy's and Irish food. I was on a mission for corned beef and cabbage. I was unprepared for the delicious find of something called parsley cream sauce that goes with the corned beef and cabbage. It's so good you could practically drink it, probably to the detriment of your arteries. We took in the Cliffs of Moher on a day trip and I highly recommend it if you have only one day to be outside of Dublin. The Sisters Snotty-McGee were impressed. You can walk for ages along the top of the cliffs, watching the waves crash into coves. From far away we had seen quite a few daredevils much too close to the edge and though, "You're an idiot." Finally, though, we came to the end of the walled path and like the anarchists we are, we climbed right over the warning signs to join all of the other idiots on the path beyond. It was so worth it.
The drive to and from took us past fairy circles, crumbling castles, stone tables Aslan-style, and other things mystical and magical. Maybe it was the driver's stories or just the over-all feeling of the place, or quite possibly the fact that I am extremely susceptable to the fantastical - but there's just something about Ireland that makes leprechauns appearing from the fairy kingdom, or mermaids on the shore feel extremely likely.

After a very lovely day we got back into Dublin very late for a very delayed meet up with one of Beth's friends. SO GLAD WE DID THOUGH. He's amazing. We became new BFFs immediately and spent the whole night drinking Guinness and making fun of each other. We are meeting up in Edinburgh in a couple of weeks and I can't wait.

And a partridge in a...

It feels like spring outside and that alone is exciting after an admittedly brief cold period. It's amazing how much your mood can pick up with a change in the weather. In spite of all the frustrations of the past few months, I am in very good spirits. Frustrations from what? Well I have decided to pursue my PhD, that is, providing I get into a program here at UCL. It has been a learning experience to say the least. After multiple meetings with various professors, completely conflicting advice, and 95 changes of heart on a possible PhD topic, I have succeeded with completing my first application. It's for the kind of lamely named UCL SECReT program, a security studies 4 year program. I'd complete another Masters in the first year and the rest would be PhD and internship. Kind of a non-traditional program as it were. It's very competitive and I received both guidance that I need to have my project and research methodology very well thought out, while also being told that it might be best if I DON'T have a specific idea of what I want to research considering how much new information about the field would be thrown at us in the first term. GREAT! Thanks for the clarification. At any rate, if I don't get into this program I will have to define an actual project for a different program, but that can wait until I get the verdict. Who would have thought? I went into this Masters with the sole intention of doing it to get a job right after. I had no interest in academia. It's funny how much difference a few months and quite a few hours of classes can make. I think I'd really like to teach eventually...college, not younger. I have learned an incredible amount of stuff in my time at UCL and alot of that is thanks to the professors, bah, they're called 'lecturers' here but whatever. I'm supposed to be writing my current dissertation proposal as we speak. I have a pretty clear idea of what I'm doing so it shouldn't be too much of a problem. Hurray for more school!

In further news, I got a job! I am pretty glad that I haven't had one up until now, things have been pretty busy. And as with everything in life, this was kind of random in how it happened. There's a pub we frequent on some Sunday nights called The Pear Tree, mainly because of its very exciting pub quiz. It also has excellent food and a staff that looks like they're having the time of their lives. We weren't the only ones to notice because I overheard other people talking about it as well when I was standing outside one night. I kept thinking that I'd love to work there too. It has been a very long time since I've had a job like that but I loved it when I did. There was a reason I left office work after three months to go back to working at Starbucks and at House of Blues. So last Sunday Shannon and my friend Elin and I were headed to the pub quiz. When we got there it turned out that there was no pub quiz. However, because it was less hectic I had time to notice the sign that 'friendly bar staff was required.' I talked to the girls at the counter and had an interview set up before I left. School will be over in four weeks, classes anyway, and I know that if I just have to sit at home all day with nowhere to go I will be MUCH less productive than I would be if I had to be on a schedule. I interviewed yesterday. I shouldn't be surprised at how different things are here in the UK but I kind of was. Normally when you go in for an interview there is some sort of application to fill out, identification to be checked, discussion of hours, pay, etc. That did not happen here. After about fifteen minutes of chatting she asked if I wanted to do the required trial shift now. Apparently you do a trial run to see if you can handle it, fit in the with the other staff, you like it, they like you... This is actually a really great idea I think. It costs way too much to hire people who end up sucking, and then it takes months to get rid of them. It also works if you know what you're looking for in someone and realize what is important for them to have beforehand (people skills, friendliness, a brain) and what can be taught after (how to run the till, pour a pint, where to find the extra condiments).
Admittedly I wanted to cry my eyes out the first 45 minutes or so. It got busy quickly and after approximately 10 whole minutes of training I had to jump in at full steam. Before too long though, the majority of me remembered what I used to know and it was much better. I forgot how nice it was to chat with people and be so busy you don't notice 3 hours passing. I think I got really scarred from working in customer service in Beverly Hills. I forgot that most people are delightful. After I was done with the shift I got to sit down with a drink and relax. At the end of it I was sure I'd cry but only if they didn't offer me the job. They called today with my scheduled shifts so I guess I did alright. Now if I only knew what the pay was...

PS. Posting delayed pictures of our day trip to Hampton Court Palace to pay our regard to Henry the 8th!

New Year, brings new....well, not really, it's the same

I have no idea how I'm already smack in the middle of January. Christmas break was great, but very fast. I found myself back in Dallas right as classes were ending and had an amazing time with my little Robert-Roo and Tami and Marion. It was a busy trip and the only thing wrong with it was that it was too short. I cried pretty much the entire time I was there I think....exaggeration of course but I'm finding it so hard to have my heart in so many places. But it was good, I was with part of the people who I call my family and it was lovely. I got back the morning after Christmas and my friend Emily from LA was already hear running all around London with my sister. We took off for Cardiff, Wales the very next morning.

I love Wales! The people were so extremely nice and in some ways the city reminded me of Anchorage, AK. But we didn't have a castle there and Cardiff does...unfortunately for Alaskans. The castle itself was pretty cool. They used to be the air raid shelter for the area and they have an exhibit in the tunnels that lets you walk through what it was like during the war. I wasn't aware that sound would be motion activated and I rushed on in only to be given a heart attack by my friend Winston Churchill as he announced England was at war. With all the sirens and whatnot pumped in it was almost a bit too real. Having to be up and around really helped me deal with the inevitable jet lag better than normal.
Anyway, after two days in Cardiff we got on the train and headed to Hereford for our bus to a little town called Hay-on-Wye. It's "A Town of Books" and has literally, 31 used book stores in this teeny quaint little town. Anyone who knows me knows you are lucky to be reading this right now as there was a good possibility I was never going to leave - the town was made just for me I swear, it even has an old ruined castle. I found some amazing things and dream of the day when I can go back. Maybe in the summer, and then I will book myself a country horse trip as well. Books and horses...Best. Town. Ever.

We spent the rest of her time here going to exhibits and football games. It was great until I realized it was 5 days before my essays were all due and I had barely begun. I got them done, however, and am trying to get a huge jump on this next semester since I have the additional stress of getting in my dissertation proposal. There are a ton of things to do and plan for and my quantitative research class is already shaping up to be a bear. I am happy though. I am trying to make plans to live in Paris for a month this summer for my dissertation research and possibly to intern....at least those are the excuses I'm using. Nothing beats Paris in the summer and the Olympics will be clogging up London and making it unbearable to do anything touristy that I'd want to do anyway. My genius plan is unfolding.

Clear as a Bell

I'll refrain from apologizing for being crap at keeping up with the blog. There was a busy couple of weeks and I lost track of time. Since the last post we have had our 'reading week' which is like a mid-term study break. Needless to say I didn't do much towards school work since Shannon and I decided to run away to Scotland instead. It was a much needed break after spending a flurry of days in our flat trying to revise resumes and cover letters for some of the graduate recruitment scheme deadlines. I've just heard I was not selected to interview so I suppose I now have no excuse but to go back to focusing on school and this blog.

Scotland was delightful, if not seriously cold and dark. It reminded me of being back in Alaska when the sun set around 3:30pm. Alaska is sadly short on ruined castles and kilts so there were some perks in the frozen north of the UK. We managed to see most of Edinburgh and took a day trip down to the borderlands in the South for a visit to Rosslyn Chapel. You'll know Rosslyn from the final scenes in The DaVinci Code. I have to say that it is far more creepy in person. It's used as a church but you get the definite feeling that the purpose for it being built had nothing to do with God. That's just my opinion but I don't feel I'm wrong. At any rate I will be glad to go back to Scotland next summer when it's a little more daylight filled and go north to the Highlands that we have heard are stunning. The train ride to and from was just beautiful and we got to remember what the ocean looked like.

Back in London it had gotten darker as well but it was a bit warmer and definitely felt even more like home. Our classes are beginning to wind down a bit and it's scary how quickly time is flying by. We hosted Thanksgiving dinner at our house yesterday. It was complete with tension, some fighting, food explosions, and at least one person ended up with a cooking injury but those are all of the things that made it feel exactly like every other Thanksgiving I've ever been to. Our turkey was beautiful and the company was lovely. We had quite a time trying to find certain things deemed 'American' in the week before. We finally came across the American foods section in the big department store Selfridge's where we happily bought Jello, canned Pumpkin, chocolate chips, and a box of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese to be savored at some point later this week. We had to face facts that Cool Whip and Pillsbury biscuit dough were not going to be found anywhere in the country. We did, however, manage to score the last two tins of French Fried Onions to be had at Sainsburys the morning of, and the green bean casserole turned out just fine. Beth has a really eclectic and truly wonderful group of friends that Shannon and I have managed to start co-opting as our own, and school is also providing some truly fantastic people that have made our transition here a little more easy. This is not to say that on Thanksgiving day while all our friends and family were back home celebrating we did not wake up a little bit sad. I think I had a generally lonely dismal day for some reason and Shannon's was similar...I believe there was a meltdown of sorts, trying to locate a pie pan. We found a pub over by Parsons Green and consoled ourselves with lamb shank and sausage and mash. There's nothing like hearty comfort food for the soul.

The next challenges will be our course assessments that will be due after Christmas. I'll be back in Dallas for some of the holidays and am hoping to get the largest chunk of the work done since I'll have a friend in town when I get back. We're not sure about the grading system here...it seems easier than the states, you only need 50% to pass. But how hard it is to get a 50%? We're not sure. Meanwhile, I'm dreaming of getting a chick-fil-a sandwich, riding in a car again, and being back somewhere familiar. No matter how much you want to be somewhere it's always hard to exist in a new world. We keep ourselves very amused though as the British have a sense of humor I can get behind. We've started discerning the various types of accents and have determined that we do not like the one we've titled 'nuffing.' The offending accent says fings like, 'Bef (Beth), would you mind helping wif the fing I asked you about? There's nuffing I can do about it from ova 'ere.' It's hilarious. Public transport is also a prime area for amusement. We were waiting for the train to leave the station the other day and the driver comes over the PA system with the normal, "Please stand clear of the doors, this train will depart shortly." That's normal. He comes on again, "Stand clear of the doors, please." And then, "STAND clear of the DOOOOOORS!!!!" The entire train started laughing. I do not want that guys job, for sure.

Sex Crackers and Pub Quiz Champions!!

I was just sitting outside and the sky was amazing. The clouds were flying past the moon and the garden is starting to fill with roses. The weekend was a load of fun...which meant I wasn't exactly as well-read for my class today as I could have been. Saturday Shannon and I went out with a plan, only to find that the tube wasn't running in our area of town. So we got familiar with the bus system very quickly. The London buses are actually a great way to get to know the city better and if you ride up top the height and perspective makes the ride a little exciting as these giant double-decker buses seem to squeeze where it doesn't seem like they should fit.
We walked up to Kensington Gardens and Palace to have a quick look around and then spent the rest of the afternoon in a shopping frenzy on the high street. I came with almost no appropriate clothing and now I have a perfectly serviceable wardrobe mostly. We got back home and spent the rest of the night relaxing and eating the pumpkin soup Shan made.
The next morning we meant to do the chores of going to find more hangers and stopping at the hardware store to rig up something to insulate and close up the chimney holes. We ended up going for a jog in our park and then got caught up cleaning for the lunch party Beth had planned. The walk was beautiful again, I swear I'll have pictures of that in the next post. The Thames was low and there were dozens of rowers fighting for space with the swans in the diminished water. We were laughing as the coaches would follow behind in their nice motorized boats, yelling out instructions with their megaphones. If I were sweating it out, I might have a few choice words for where that megaphone could go.
Anyway, the lunch party turned more to a dinner party as the lack of transport made the guests later than expected. No matter, we had wine and appetizers while we waited for Beth's dinner of roast pork, goat cheese and mushroom polenta, and green beans. For dessert a chocolate and pear tart. It was very good! There wasn't too much time after clean-up before we were due to leave for the pub quiz at our new favorite place, The Pear Tree.
It's not too far from here and the atmosphere and staff are really great. We tried to do the quiz last week but it was suspended for some sort of impromptu play. This week it was on! A hilarious and heavily accented Scotsman was heading up the somewhat unusual quiz. He kept saying at one point, 'six crackers,' which sounded like 'sex crackers.' Jokes, jokes... Beth's friend Max, Shannon, Beth, and myself. There was a 10 question 'general' knowledge part, which we thought we did okay at until he read the answers later. One particular question - "Harvard did a study asking people this....If you were in a port-a-loo(potty for those in the states, which I think is everyone) and you were sitting down to have a number two, and you look up to see the ceiling covered in spiders do you a. finish and then go or b. run like the wind." Needless to say there was no lack of interesting discussion as we tried to figure out what people would have said.

There were other parts - anagrams, which we sucked at....alot. A movie section. And then a section that looked like the last round of family feud. You know, pick the most popular answer out of 100 people surveyed? That one was my responsibility. The random section where you did a little red/black betting, went to Max who managed to score a massive 7 points. And last, but not least, was what they call a bush trucker trial...yeah ok. Apparently it can be like a fear factor thing...luckily for her it was just 5 giant crackers and what turned out to be a shot of balsamic vinegar. She and nine other people raced to finish the crackers and then take the shot of vinegar. The early lead went to some guy who polished off three but Shannon came up from behind and kicked the pants out of everyone! It was amazing. The entire pub was in a frenzy. Somehow even with our crap answers the first round, and dismal showing in the anagrams we ended up winning. And the prize was a bottle of champagne...bad news bears. This morning didn't feel stellar but it was so worth it.

Life in London

We're finally living in London! I can't believe it's been over two weeks already. We've had some troubles with actually getting internet in our apartment and the sketchy one we've been paying for has finally decided to work properly so I thought I'd start my blog again.

We got here and pretty much jumped right into things. We had welcome drinks at the wine bar down the street with our roommate, get signed up for classes, and everything else administrative that needed to be done. And that sentence makes it sound so much easier than it was. The first week or so it seemed like we hit every possible frustration and annoyance. The dogs had a bit of trouble but managed to make it here. From money issues, to having pants too long for shoes that weren't comfortable enough to walk anywhere, to the Tube pass machines not taking credit cards for no good reason...it has been a bit of a struggle but we've managed alright. What is most surprising is how at home I feel here.

I've joined the university chorus which makes me proud of myself. Since I'm normally terribly lazy I struggle to make the changes in my life I want to see. I said before I came I wanted to get back to singing and now I have. Now after the first rehearsal I realize that so much disuse of my voice has cost me most of my range. Oh well, practice will help. Poor neighbors...

We've been getting the in's and out's of traffic here as well. Apparently a green man doesn't always mean walk if you're in the driver's seat. A car nearly hit a group of us and one girl yelled out, "IT'S BLOODY GREEN!" Which just made me laugh like a maniac. For the same language there are quite a few sayings that do not translate or they translate but the comic factor is out of this world. Some of the girls in my program and I went for coffee in the cafe that is actually inside Russell Gardens (very pretty) and discussed the differences. Speaking of my program. I really love it! Global Migration and UCL was definitely the right choice. There is only one guy in the program, which is hilarious, and the group is very diverse. There are quite a few countries represented which brings an interesting dimension to discussions - England, Estonia, Norway, Canada, Italy, Romania, etc.

Well, it is time I did my reading for my International European and Refugee Law course....yeah I'm hoping it's not as bad as it sounds. Pictures to be posted on the next entry.

Continuous Lessons in Patience and Faith

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.