I'M GOING TO ENGLAND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ok, so last night was a bloody battle for my heart. I was trying to decide whether or not to go to this 70s/80s dance thing at church when one of my girls called and asked for a ride to it, which finalized my decision to go. So I get all dressed up for it in what I hoped looked 80s (I was seven when the decade ended, and very sheltered. I was surprised to even recognize some of the songs they played) and went hoping to be the cinderella of the ball. It worked last week. A different one of my girls had a birthday ball and I wore the same dress and they all flipped out on how "hot" I looked (when I would have just settled for "pretty") and couldn't stop complimenting me on it. It felt great. I felt great. I looked great. So I naturally thought that even though I didn't expect anyone to lavish praise on me (they'd all seen me in the dress already) I would feel great this week, "pretty, oh so pretty" as Liza Doolittle sang. So I get there with my hair done to the side in an 80s style (?), and with a blazer over my dress, and the girl I hold as having the most fashion sense in the world (ok, maybe just in my world), gives me the usual hug and says "oh, you look....nice." Didn't sound very thrilled. Which made me deflate a whole bunch. So I went through the rest of the night second guessing how I looked, and by the time I saw that the only people there were either 5-10 years younger or 5-10 years older than me and I barely knew any of them, the night just sucked. No one noticed me, no one talked with me, no one cared enough to force me to dance with everyone else, and no one noticed when I went outside and hid for an hour and a half. And I couldn't leave and end the misery to find comfort at the house or at starbucks, I had to bring Robbin home, and she was having such a good time I didn't want to take her home early. So I hid up in the youth balcony, and outside on the picnic table, and in my car. But it was one of those freak-out hidings. Some guys came out to their cars to leave, and I hunkered down in my car whispering "please don't let them see me!". I started the night out feeling beautiful and excited to be with my friends; I ended the night feeling ugly and so very out of place.
So on top of the continual battle for trust and the moment by moment surrender of my England fears, I went home last night and lay in bed fighting the lies of my plainness and undesireableness, and fighting to trust for my everyday expenses (the party took the last of my cash, and I have to keep telling myself it was for a good cause or else I'll call it just a waste). I felt so overwhelmed at the onslaught that all I could do was cry out for help. And I felt Jesus there. My mind was still frightened and panicked, but just knowing He was there eased my heart a bit. I'm so tired of fighting the same exact battle for my beauty. This will probably be something I need to talk out with others in Transit (if I go, or with my life group here if I don't). Right now the pivotal battle is for trust, but the enemy keeps attacking me from other angles to try and overwhelm me. The attack against my beauty. The attack from my family. The continual battle about my personal finances.

Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil's schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Ephesians 6:10-14.

I am going to stand firm. No matter what the enemy lashes at me, I will stand. I may not be able fight back, but standing firm is, in a way, fighting. It's fighting to believe that the Rock on which I stand will not be moved. It's fighting to believe that my King is a warrior who is fighting for my heart. It's fighting to not give in to the lies that have crippled me in the past and threaten to again. I will not be crippled again. I will put on the truth of who I am and who He is to hold me up. I will protect my heart with righteousness-it was said that Abraham believed that God was faithful to be true to His promises and it was credited to Abraham as righteousness...I'm gonna trust, and hopefully that's the same thing. I will be ready with the peace that comes with trusting His goodness. My shield of faith is small, but growing, and I know my Savior, my Redeemer is there for me, and He's been reminding me of the truth of His Word almost every day. I am going to stand firm.

I think I'm winning.

I feel strong in a way that can only be God. It has to be, because I know that when I'm not tapping into His strength I feel like freaking out. But there are moments that are turning into minutes when I can force myself to give over the worry and fear and anxiety to Jesus, and I feel as strong as... an oak tree. Don't know why exactly that analogy fits. I feel strong to the core of my being in the moments He's strong in me. I can stand tall and not fear. There's a song that's out by Kutless that goes: "You are my strong tower/ Shelter over me/ Beautiful and mighty/ Everlasting King/ You are my strong tower/ Fortress when I'm weak/ Your name is true and holy/ And Your face is all I seek." Although I would rather say "and Your heart is all I seek", cause that's what He longs to make known to His beloved. Most people can be strong physically and yet are weak in the deepest parts of their beings. I'm that way a lot. Put on a strong face(almost literally sometimes when I feel like crying in public, keep a stiff upper lip, ya know), don't let anyone know that you're a crumpled up mess, like I was last night. I haven't cried that hard in such a long time (or maybe it just sounded hard because it was echoing through the empty kitchen and living room of the empty house I'm staying in). Such a soul-wrenching cry, and one of the few times I actually wanted someone there to see my mess. But I can't think about what made me cry right now; that's a completely different issue to fight, and I do not have time to fight off the arrows coming from the annoying demons that plauge me. I'm in a crucial battle between the wills in my soul. The natural me wants to freak out and panic and drop the whole thing. But then my heart fights back to surrender it all to my Abba, and I know a strength that is not my own but feels so peaceful and secure. I think I'm winning. The outcome will be decided Sunday. I'm sure there will still be little skirmishes after Sunday, and aftermath clean up. I'm not even sure what the outcome will look like, and after this week I know not to expect the expected.

Me: Can we talk?
God: What's up?
Me: I'm really, really nervous about Sunday.
God: I know.
Me: I don't know what to hope for. If I get the money and can go, I mean that would be a really, really cool story to tell others about Your faithfulness and how You came through. And I would get to go to Transit and work on opening my heart and learning more about You and living a lifestyle of prayer and being vulnerable with a community that doesn't have any pre-conceived notions about me. And there's the fact that it's in England.
God: You aren't really excited about that yet, are you?
Me: Not really. It actually brings a little anxiousness when I think about it. The currency change, the culture shock, being away from my friends and church family. I haven't even left yet, or even know if I'm going, and I'm homesick already.
God: I know what that feels like. I left behind my best friends of three years right when things started to get interesting.
Me: Sucks, doesn't it.
God: (smiles)
Me: But, if the money doesn't come in, I know that You will do all the same things (or different if that's what You want and I need), just with people I know and love already in a place I wouldn't mind staying. I know so much is going to happen that I'm really looking forward to. Getting an apartment, finishing school, working, hanging out more with my life group and allowing myself to be vulnerable with them and maybe actually deal with my loneliness in life group or one on one. But...
God: What are you thinking?
Me: Well, it sort of seems like if I stayed here, I'd just be settling for the good. All the things I listed off sounds exactly like my plans last January before I found out about England. I was settled with it, comfortable with my decision to finish school and go on to Biblical counseling, and work in a psych natured job to get an apartment and live like an adult. England came into the picture and it showed me that the career decision isn't as exciting as I wanted. I want the adventure of going off to new places and doing radical things for and with You. I would love to travel, see the world, have an adventure.
God: Wild woman, that you are!!
Me: I know, and I like it. But what if the adventure You have planned for me is to settle down, finish school, work, and get married (although that last one I wouldn't mind happening sooner than later).
God: Have patience.
Me: (sigh) I know.
God: It's true, the adventure I call many people to live is the one living a normal, daily life in an extrordinary, eternal way.
Me: Doesn't sound very exciting.
God: You read too many books sometimes.
Me: Yeah, I know. But it's my heart telling me that there must be more than settling down in a career and family. My heart is what is yearning for more. My head could care less, and probably prefers staying behind.
God: Yes, I put that longing for wild adventure in you, my Princess. It is a good thing, a Best thing, and something you must trust Me to fulfill. I know exactly what will fill that longing. Will you trust Me to work everything out for the Best?
Me: I know that if I tried to fill that longing on my own, it would come up short.
God: And I came so that you may have life, and have it to the full.
Me: I will trust You, Abba. I haven't even the foggiest idea of how to step out and look for adventure on my own.
God: (smiles) And that's why I had someone else tell you to go to England, wild girl.
Me: Yeah. I'm a rebel at heart. Give me the road less traveled. Or maybe I just can't stand the thought of missing out on the Best.
God: I know what I'm doing. I have it all planned out--plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for. When you call on me, when you come and pray to me, I'll listen. When you come looking for me, you'll find me. Yes, when you get serious about finding me and want it more than anything else, I'll make sure you won't be disappointed.
Me: Thank You, Abba. But that still doesn't solve the problem of Sun..
God: Trust Me, Sara Beth! Let me have the worry.
Me: (sigh). I trust You, Lord. For You are faithful to all Your promises, and loving towards all You have made. I know that You will do what is Best for me.
God: I love you, dear heart!
Me: (smiles) I think I almost know that You do. Thank You for being so patient with me.
God: Anytime, seriously.

It all comes down to Sunday. Whether I'm going to England or staying home will be decided then. Because that's when I find out if the church will support me financially or not. If people don't respond to what Matt and I say on Sunday or to Jim's prayers for us, I will not be going to England. And I will be okay with it. I actually will have a peace about it, because I know that God will do what is best for my heart, and it may be that staying home is what my heart mosts needs at this time. However, the church body could respond enormously and generously to our need and I could have all the money come in before church is over. And I will be okay with it, and have a peace about going to England, because that will be what God thinks is Best for my heart. I'm actually more nervous about getting the money rather than not. I've been given permission almost by my friends to stay if I need to. And for the past few weeks, I've honestly not wanted to go to England because of what I'm leaving behind. But somehow, staying home feels a little like just settling for the Good instead of gaining the Best. It's not about England, it's about what is Best for my heart. I am hungry to know God more. I am hungry to know myself more. And I feel like Transit might be where this could all happen and more. England is just the setting. I've actually never really been excited about England, just Transit, or this transition period in my life. So I will hope that the Best will happen, and I will trust that God will make it happen, because He who promised is faithful.

Why don't I trust God? I love Him, and I know He loves me. My Abba has always been close to me, and I've always understood His love. But now I'm starting to realize that maybe I don't understand as much as I should. I sat chatting with Him the other day, trying to figure out this trust thing. I can't seem to grasp the idea that He wants what is best for me because He loves me. And a lot of it has to do with my dad. I know my dad loves me. He does little things like give me flowers when I'm sick and put gas in my car when I don't have the money to. He provides a lot for our family with his work. But I've never really respected what He does. I think it's because he tends to do things out of obligation and necessity rather than because he loves his family and wants to see us provided for. He's a man, a husband, a father, and working for a living to pay the bills and put food on the table is what he is supposed to do. It doesn't make me feel loved. Honestly, it's really easy for me to take advantage of my dad. I try not to, because I'm an eldest child and I understand that I have to be responsible and lighten the burden for my parents (it's a psych thing, birth order and all that, very interesting stuff!). But I went to their house on Saturday to check my email and had just been back from the gas station (where I only had $5 to put into my tank) and then the bank, where I was reminded that I'm overdrawn and couldn't cash the babysitting check I had received. Dad was in the driveway working on his truck and I let slip how I was frustrated at not having enough money to get gas, all the while knowing that he likes to fill my tank every so often. He came inside a little later to tell me that my tires need air and he'll go do it, and my car came back with a full tank. I drove away a little later wondering if I should have been out there looking at my car with him, to give him company, or if I should have insisted that I could put air in my tires later. That day I also brought my bed frame back to the downstairs room so he could finish sanding my upstairs bedroom floor, but because I won't need it for a few weeks I just left it disassembled. Yesterday I went back and the bed was put together and the room was somewhat cleaned up. Dad was in a cleaning mode, and I got a guilt trip. Everything is obligation. Nothing is done out of love. Or at least I don't feel it. I guess that's why I have such a hard time trusting God. For all the mission trips I've ever gone on where people have given me money, I've always been grateful for it, but not in the way that I should be. Everything that is given me is simply out of obligation, not because I deserve it, that's just the way Fathers give to their daughters. Someone gave me money last night for transit and my life group promised to meet the $100/month allowance that I need for the ten months I'm there. That's a total of $1210 that I don't have to worry about. I should be elated. But I'm simply passive. There was this one time I remember in Sunday school where John was having trouble making his school payments, and he needed $500 the next day to meet a deadline, and he didn't have any of it. That day in between services, someone randomly gave him a check for $500, and he was so happy that he was crying as he told us the story. I've never had that feeling. There's always been a little embarassment when I receive money from others. How I'm going to get up in front of the whole church next week with Matt and tell everyone that I need about $5500, I don't know. I'd like to picture myself sitting in my front row seat bawling my eyes out in shock and gratitude as I hold checks that have been given to me from my church body meeting the exact amount or more. But if that happened, I'd probably just push away the emotions like I always do and the moment for gratitude would be lost. I don't know how to receive with grace and gratitude. Yes, there's the element of my feeling unworthy to receive anything, but it's more than that. I haven't been in the practice of receiving. Maybe it's because I feel like I've never received anything, maybe it's because I keep myself out of situations where I would receive something. It's that whole thing about love that Thomas Merton talked about in his book No Man Is An Island. He said that for love to be given perfectly by a lover, the beloved must receive the love whole-heartedly, because she knows that it gives her lover joy and pleasure to see her receive his love. And because she loves him, she wants to give him love in return, and the best way to give love is to receive love. Both must be present for love to be perfect. I haven't been able to receive God's love for me, because I haven't understood that a Father can love His daughter without her feeling guilty that she didn't do something to deserve it.

Philippians 4:6-7
6Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 7And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. (NIV)

6Don't fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. 7Before you know it, a sense of God's wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It's wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life. (MSG)

It's amazing how a conversation with Jim can completely change one's outlook. All that I've been feeling recently about England and friendships is not what I thought it was about. This isn't about trusting God to bring in the money; it's about trusting God to do the best thing for my heart. And it might be that the best thing for my heart is what I am learning before I go to England. So the outcome isn't going to England or not going to England, what God wants for me is to grow. It might be that I don't go to England (which would solve the problem of missing my friends, but Jim told me that I have a community waiting for me in England that God has planned for me if I go..trust, Sara!!). But I think I would be okay with it. It's God's plan, and my Abba only wants the best for His Princess. My heart's growth is more important that what I end up doing. The real battle is for my heart to trust. The money situation is just the scene of the battle. And this isn't the battle that decides whether I can trust God perfectly for the rest of my life or not, this is just another round in the battle for trust. The first round, or one of the first rounds, was four years ago when I was a senior in high school, worrying over what my life would be like after I graduated. I couldn't make it through one day without repeating Phil 4:6-7 to myself, just to calm myself down. Then, the battle was simply to plant the idea in my head that God could come through for me. Now, it's to plant it in my heart more deeply. Each battle, though it be for the same thing, roots it deeper and deeper into my heart. This time I need to present my requests to my Abba, and let it be. And although I've pestered Him too much about it lately, I think I need to go through the list again, kind of mark off each item I'm worried about and individually give each worry to Him. I've been avoiding Him like the plague, and that's probably why this house I'm in has seemed so lonely. He's been waiting there for me, and I've tried to fill up my mind with other things. But we had a chat yesterday at the flimsy excuse for a dinner table during dinner last night. It was nice. Although it felt a little weird drinking iced tea with an empty chair. One might think I've gone mental. It's probably just the opposite..I've finally become sane. And I do feel a sense of peace...not completely (I have yet to go through the list of worries), but there's a sense that it's all no longer chaos. I've got my feet planted on the truth of what this really is, and my sword is at the ready. This battle is going to be fought, not simply endured. I am Sara Beth, Princess of the house of God, shieldmaiden and warrior of Zion. I fight for truth. I fight for trust.

I don't know if I want to write this today. Some days I think it would be better to write down what I'm feeling in the privacy of my house, not at the library. Somehow I don't think a sobbing librarian would bring very good business. But I have nothing else to do at the moment, and I really want to get this down.
I don't even know where to begin. I've written it all down before, but it seems so piece meal and scattered, when in actuality it's all affecting me at the same time. Worry about my finances for everyday things. Frantic worry about getting the money in for England, even though I try to put on a brave face and tell people I've got faith that it will come in when in all actuality I'm scared stiff about it. Intense loneliness in this big empty house where I'm staying. Anxiety over losing friendships that have just begun to blossom and haven't really taken root yet, just as I transplant myself to another country. Feeling left out because those same friends will be starting things that will to grow closer together without me and I'll come back and be a tag-a-long all over again, the girl who's so desperate to have friends that she hangs around people she has nothing in common with just to make it look like she isn't lonely. But these friends are different than the ones I tagged behind in grade school so I wouldn't have the label of loner: I actually really, really want to have relationships with these wonderful people. But I'm so scared that they won't see me as anything more than a silent tag-a-long and wish I would just go away. These are the things I think about when I go to sleep, when I'm lying in bed before I get up in the morning, when I'm sitting alone in that hollow, empty house during the day, even when I'm with my friends. I want more than anything to feel God's peace, to know again that I'm loved and worth loving and that people want to know me and be known by me. All the things I learned on quest are slowly getting pushed away by the same fears and lies that have tormented me for years. It's all I can do sometimes to look the fears in the eye and speak the truth over myself. Start running the right direction again, and not let the lies grab me by the ankles and trip me up. My heart hurts so much. I need to know that God loves me and is there for me, protecting me from the arrows. It's so hard to see Him doing it. I want to, but I have this stubborn thing in me that needs to see it visibly, physically, audibly.
Last night at flood it was really hard to keep the tears contained. Then during worship Marissa Beal prayed over the kids as they start school. She prayed that God would give us peace as they face each new day, and that they would have friends to support them during this time. I broke down and sobbed in my nice, dark little corner, quietly of course, with my head down in my knees so no one would come and pray for me. I actually would have loved it if Marissa or Jim, or even Tim or Matt came and prayed for me, but I didn't want the girls to come. I don't know why. How could they understand it all. I shouldn't doubt them like that though. They don't need to know, just need to speak what God tells them, even if they don't understand how what they say could make a difference. I would love to have some peace, a deep reasurance that everything will be alright. Or a shoulder to cry on.

There is a difference, you know, between wishing and hoping. I do too much wishing, and not enough hoping. Wishing consists of daydreaming, fantasizing, and imagining what it would be like if what I wish for ever happened, but I never do anything about it. Wishing is easy; all I have to do is daydream. But most of the time wishes never come true. I don't have a fairy God-Father who answers the whim of a wish. But I do have a Holy Abba who loves me enough to add in a little risk to hoping. Hoping is living with the belief that what I hope for is going to happen. I actually need to take action towards that which I hope for, knowing the risks yet for the joy set before me will face the possibility of disapointment or rejection. Wishing is the easy alternative the enemy provides to keep us safe from risks, but also safe from taking hold of our inheritance.

What could I be hoping for? Love? too much risk...no man's ever showed an interest in me let alone loved me, why should I bare my heart and risk having the lies of my plainness and undesireableness be proven as truth? no, it's easier to daydream and imagine what it would be like if a man told me I was beautiful, desireable and that he loves me (although I'm getting tired of the hurt that it brings my heart when it doesn't come true). Friendship? I'm so afraid that going away will cause my friendships here to end, when I just found out for the first time that people actually want to be my friend. For God to come through with everything I need? that's the hardest one. It involves trust, and I so desperately want to trust God, to know that He has everything under control and will give me all the things He longs to give His princess. Why couldn't He provide $7,000 in less than two weeks, as well as money to buy food and gas and maybe even have something to tithe with? That's what will hurt the most this coming Sunday... I literally have no money to tithe. If I put in two pennies, will Jesus still find my gift acceptable? I want to trust Him with all my heart. I can almost feel it, the sense of relief that comes from laying it all down and giving all control over to the One who holds the universe in His scarred hand. I just can't let down that self-protective barrier yet. Oh, how I want to. How I need to. Will I ever be able to trust Him if He tells me that I have to be the first to say "I like you" to a guy I want to have a relationship with? Will I ever be able to trust Him if He tells me to give away my car instead of selling it? Will I ever be able to trust others enough to risk cry in front of them instead of setting my face like flint and trying to appear strong? I'm tired of crying alone.

I've been posting a lot lately. Maybe cause I'm simply bored to distraction...

Home, no, scratch that...my parent's house is a funny place, now that I'm out of it for a long time. The first time I come home to check my mail, and my mom is actually cordial, even friendly to me. I even got a smile out of her, a genuine, real smile..not just a "I want you to do something and you have to because I told you to" smile. and yes, she's asked me to do a lot of things when I'm home, but I'm willing to do it, because it's being helpful. She's had a lot of trouble with her left knee, and my sister just had surgery on her right knee, so between the two of them (dad's out of town at a work/school conference thing) little is getting done at home. So I've gladly carried down the garbage/recycling to the street and picked up the dog hair sticking to the chair legs and vacuumed the porch. and I actually got a grateful thank you for it. I almost don't know what to do with this new mom, and she's even been in pain lately and not been yelling. maybe cause my sister is in pain and my mom doesn't want to bother her. maybe it's cause I'm not there anymore. Which is a good thing, although I have to admit I've gone home (oops)...to my parents' house every day just for company. It gets a little lonely at the House when all there is to do is watch tv and there's nothing decent on. I wonder what would happen if I just sat in my chair and spent the time pondering. I like to ponder, but mostly as an excuse not to say anything when I'm with other people. Pondering on my own time isn't as enjoyable, cause there's no one to ask what I'm thinking about. And inevitably I just lasp into daydreaming, and that is just a complete waste of time. It's much easier to ponder at starbucks or in the woods, or when the kids I babysit are all quiet and asleep. I've always needed some background noise to really make my thoughts come out in utter genius. Even when I write my papers, I need music blaring in my headphones to have something to specific to block out, and then my best work is produced. If I tried to write all of this at home with no noise around at all, I wouldn't even get a sentence out, but these posts are usually done in the noise and distraction of the library as I'm jumping up and down to help patrons and answer the phone.

I love the idea of a blank piece of paper. Computer screen or parchment, it makes no difference. Just the idea that there's something clean, white, and new, waiting for me to artistically dirty it with swirls and lines that flow together to form letters, words and phrases that impart meaning and life for all to see. Maybe that's why my favorite art medium is pencil and charcoal, I can't get away from the simple beauty of black and white. [sigh] Sorry for the momentary literary episode. But I'm sitting here at the library typing this out waiting for something to happen because it's been really slow behind the desk and I'm bored and getting paid for it.

I've been fighting lies a lot the past few days. I think it all started Sunday afternoon and evening, when I realized that I won't be with my friends anymore. The same, ole, familiar lies of my worthlessness and aloneness have come back in full force, and there's no one in town to fight it with. Well, that's not true, there's just no one in town that I feel comfortable enough to tell so they could fight with me. All my heros and fellow fighters are out soul searching or on vacation or are too busy. So last night I had to fight it off myself. It was weird, I could almost just watch the transformation happen. I was sitting on my bed looking into the mirror to try and speak truth over myself, and it's like I switched from pre-quest plain-looking slouched-over lonely sara to post-Quest beautiful confident worth-loving Sara Beth in a matter of moments. The effect didn't stay for very long though, so I just decided to go to bed and deal with it the next day (although I've been too busy today to stop and think about it..even writing these two paragraphs has taken the past three hours in between helping patrons). I guess some things are just easier to hear from others than it is to try and tell yourself, which is why I've had a whole lifetime of darkness. For the first time in my twenty-one years of life (almost twenty-two now, that's a weird thought), I've been told I'm worth loving, I'm beautiful (I can now count on both hands the times a guy has called me pretty, beautiful, or nice looking-dad included), and that my heart and mind and self is needed. It's still such a novelty that it's not habit yet; believing in these things and hoping for it to be true is still a daily struggle. It makes me look forward to seeing my friends almost every day, and wish that I could have seen or talked with someone the days I don't...just so that I can get a grasp of another human being that I know thinks I'm important and worth loving and lovely.

I hadn't really thought about how much I'm going to miss my friends until last night. Jim started talking about what our life group is going to start doing in the month of September, and the whole time he was talking about this amazing, community building, life changing, intimate friendship creating idea, all I could think was "and I won't be here for it." Everyone will be building life-long relationships in this amazingly tight community without me. No biggie, it's not like I've ever had it before, so I won't miss it. It seems like that's all I'm fated to have--no close relationships, no life-long comrades for me, no best friend. I'm tired of buying into that cynical lie, but it feels like that's all that I'm slated for. I feel like just checking out, wean myself out of their lives so that this won't hurt so bad. I just met these people less than a year ago, and I just started opening up to them only two months ago after quest. But I still feel like I don't know them at all, and that I'm not all that important to them. I know, I know...I could be the one to make an effort and call people to hang out. But it's so intimidating to do, especially when I feel like I don't do anything but trip my way through an attempt at conversation; why should I initiate it when I'll just go through the whole thing wishing the ground would swallow me up or I could magically be given a ready wit and a gift for gab. I would love to be acknowledged by even just a phone call from someone wanting to hang out, or by a group of people going out for pizza and realizing that it would be so much fun if I was there. sounds a little self-righteous, but the alternative to daydreaming is instead believing that they don't call me so I must not be important. I wish I could pick my thoughts up out of this darkness and actually look at the possitive side of all this. I have had the amazing opportunity to know people and be known. I have at this moment more friends than I've had in my whole life combined. I have friends like Greg, Scott, and Josh who give great hugs every time they see me (and sometimes a girl just needs a guy hug). I have friends like Lauren and Caitlin who I can have fun with. I have friends like Amy who I can really talk with, about the deep heart issues as well as the surface ones that are vital to a woman's heart but that no one's ever cared to talk through with me before. I have friends like Jim who is always there to give advice and be an older brother who's promised to protect and fight for my heart and believes in the wild woman that God has created me to be. I have friends like Jason who sees me cowering in the corner and actually thinks I'm worth fighting for enough to come into the corner and pull me out, when no one else ever has before. I have friends. My Abba has been so, so very good to me as to give me friends, even if only for this short while. and He has seen that it will be good for me to leave them, for a time. So I can focus on how much it hurts to leave, or I can focus on the fact that my Abba knows what He's doing and trust that everything will turn out ok, if not better than it is now. But it is still such a fight to look at the possitive and be grateful instead of believing the cynical lies about myself. I've done that my whole life, it's hard to think that anyone would actually want me.

It's amazing how much God has blessed me with community. Four months ago I was lonely, unknown, and hating myself. Today, I have a family; non-traditional, but it's my family none the less. "God sets the lonely in families," Ps. 68:6. People know me and my struggles and want to fight for me and love on me despite them all. I know others' hearts and struggles and find myself not caring about my own but just want to make their struggles less of a burden. I have phone numbers in my cell that are people (my age!!) I actually want to call to hang out with, not just people who randomly call me to need something from me (like a ride to church or a babysitter). They're people I can call when I need to talk, when I need a reminder of God's truth, when I need a ride. They're people who can talk to me when they need a friend and a reminder of who they are in God's eyes and mine, and they're people I would love giving a ride to (cause it might actually be fun conversation on the way!).

This is why I need to go to England. Because of my family. Even though I just found them, just began to become really real with them. They need me, all of me. My personality, my love, my quirks, my heart, and my gifts: I am a passionate lover of God, I am passionate about prayer (although I think I need to come up with another name for it, because "chatting with God" is a little too long to describe what I really think prayer is), and God has given me the gift of discernment and the wisdom needed to bind up the broken hearts I "see" around me. I don't know the full extent of all these yet, but I know that God wants to teach me so much about being me this next year at Transit. I need to go away to find myself, so that I can be myself, be comfortable living from my whole heart. So even though I litterally don't have a dime to pay for this trip, I will not freak out, because this is something that God wants me to do, and that my community needs me to do. I leave so that I can grow in the gifts God has given me, so that when I come back I can impart them to my church, my community, my family. The money and the plane tickets are minor details, and my God can do anything. even get me the laptop I'm hoping someone will donate so that I can keep in constant contact with my family when I'm gone. and absence makes the heart grow fonder, at least for the person who leaves, but I've always wondered if those left behind just eventually forget and/or replace. I don't want to forget Andrew and Shayna, don't want to miss their place on the Bailey's porch. Will I be forgotten in a few months?