Sure, take all that you see.

I wasn't quite sure how to start this post.

I will not start this post by trying to explain why it has been so long since I have last written. I will not inform you about how hard it is for me to finally learn how to articulate the things that I am learning, and how badly I want to be able to eloquently write them down. I won't apologize. And I will not make a joke about how my mom is probably the only one that reads this anyway...

I am not on my way to a grand adventure. I am not really transitioning into a new stage of life. I am not going somewhere new where I don't know anyone. I am not moving to a castle. I am not going to a new school.

This are all things that I haven't really been able to say in the past few years. If you were to back track through my posts, you would only read of paradox, transition, adventure, and music... probably. However, as I write from where I am, I can tell you that I am really not moving. I am living at home, I don't have a job, and I don't have a plan.

Now- I've never been one for details, but, I feel like I usually have something that I am looking forward to. My mom told me once that I "measure my time by the next big thing." And, I'm pretty sure she is right. Right now- there is not a big thing, and I feel a bit out of sorts, and a bit unstable.

But, sometimes, instability is exactly what we need. We need things to break into our lives, to remind us that, ultimately, we are not in control. The past month of my life has been entirely unstable. I have been on 11 planes. Gotten lost, stuck, delayed and cancelled. I have attended both a wedding and a funeral within days of each other. I have felt extreme joy, and deep mourning. I have felt angry that I can't even seem to grab hold of one damn thought, or make one lasting decision.

All of these things are contributing to the fact that I am not in control. And it is in these moments- the ones in which we feel like we can no longer stand- that we reach out. We reach out to each other. We humble ourselves, and we ask for help. We understand that we can't control anything and that most of our emotional energy goes into that which we cannot control. We ask for someone to hold our hand. We let a secure embrace wrap around us when we are crying to hard to breathe. We let other people buy us coffee. We let ourselves say things like, "I just don't know."

And, we rest in the fact that God is stable. He is unchanging. He is in control. We cling to this, because it is all that we have and it is all we need.


So, although this summer is looking to be an unstable one, I will be interested in big things, and happy in small ways. I will become better at baking/cooking. I will read classics. I will learn how to play guitar. I will spend time with my brother and mother. I will write. I will rejoice in the union of my friends. I will mourn the loss of my dear friend and cousin. I will make a compost pile in my backyard.

... And I will embrace the shakiness of my ground, and cling to He is who Stable.


[If I know only one thing, it's that everything that I see, of the world outside is so inconceivable often I barely can speak.]