Sometimes I really can't believe this thing called life. There are days when the external, the tangible, the natural seem so real, so alive, so pressing. And then there are the times when this all seems but a dream, a dream directed by or in spite of all that exists within me.
My insides have melted into this AmeriLife, finally. I love it here in Louisiana. I love the hot air. I love the way the rains come so suddenly out of the blue sky, flooding the streets without anywhere to flow. I love falling onto my mattress at night in a cluttered one room trailer filled to its max with bunks. I love tying chicken necks to strings, tossing them into the water, and catching big blue crabs crabs crabs. I love driving the government van up and down 210.
I love building houses.
I haven't been able to run (something funky is going on with one of my knees) and in a way I think that's been really good for me. It's made me slow down, breathe, chill out. I don't need to run away from anything. It's okay to be in something you can't get out of. I don't have to feel stuck. Finally easing into this understanding has so significantly changed my experience here. I'm okay.
I really love my team. I really, really love them. This is the first time I've really been able to say that. They're rediculous, extreme, insane (truly) at times. But they're wonderful, and these ten months of my life would not be what they are without every single one of them. I've never lived SO closely with this many people before. I never imagined I would like it as much as I do.
Get my loans paid off by June 2011. Drive out to California to Bethel's School of Worship. I cannot shake the need to be in the presence of God... deep in the heart of the Spirit. There's a lot that frustrates me about the "christian world", but I cannot shake my affection for Jesus Christ... hah! I cannot shake him! And I don't want to. I want to love him more and more and more.. the real Jesus.. the one I know... the one I love..
I'm tired of stuff. It's been building in me for a couple years now, this weariness with all the stuff. Stuff everywhere. All kinds of stuff. Churches full of stuff. Land full of stuff. Closets, barns and buildings full of stuff.
Sometimes I feel beautiful in men's pants and sweat-soaked t-shirts.