nostalgia

I don't think that I can necessarily explain all of the things running through my head.


Maybe I should start by saying that I lost the two most important things to me, the past two summers. Maybe I should tell you how come summer time, my life has a way of falling apart, each year.  Fall is when I pick up the pieces. Fall is when I figure my life out.
But maybe that won't make sense.


Last year, I spent the summer saying goodbye to my life as I knew it. I spent it losing my support system, for various reasons and at various times. I spent it making big choices, and praying like crazy that they were right. I spent it going cross-country, to meet a stranger who I knew, to make those commitments; those covenants. I spent it terrified of what the future was going to hold for me.
Last year, I spent the Fall in China. & I'm not saying that I necessarily figured everything out while I was there.  Goodness, no.  I remember one day in particular, calling someone and telling them every reason I was pissed off to have made that choice--every single thing I had given up for it.  I remember seriously practically making a list of all the things I felt I had lost for Him.  I remember saying I wouldn't be the "poster child." I remember being upset about a picture, being furious and feeling used. I remember feeling pressure to succeed when I felt I was failing.  I remember feeling so incredibly alone in this.  I remember feeling hopeless and helpless.
But I also remember that when I had faith, there was hope.  I remember opening up emails, knowing there was going to be a link that would make things make sense. I remember countless hours on the phone, sorting my brain. I remember the person who was there every second of it.  And I remember that he did it because he loved me.  I remember patience. I remember kindness. I remember charity.


And then this summer, I got what I wanted, but at the wrong time. & the truth is, that I have to live with the guilt of what I could have done or should have done to prevent those things.  The fact of the matter is, I have to wonder "What if I'd said this?" or "What if I'd been more supportive?"  & that is something that haunts me. So I got what I thought I wanted, and then I walked away from everything I had. I walked away from my life.  Checked out, peaced out, and just started walking--hoping that I was headed somewhere.
I've spent this fall getting to know me, again. I've spent it in a classroom, hugging them and letting them put their sticky fingers on my light pants.  I've spent it running for hours, until I think my lungs are going to burst. I've spent it asking questions and learning how people perceive me. I've spent it having fun.  I've spent it learning how to forgive and how to move on. I've spent it figuring out what I like and what I dislike. I've spent it learning to trust.  I've spent it giving back. I've spent it breathing & thinking & feeling--really, really feeling.


One summer of being left.  The next, of leaving.
One autumn spent finding Him & loving me. The next, spent finding me & loving Him.




The truth?
I'm terrified. & I'm clumsy.
Sometimes, I'm sarcastic when I want to be sincere.
I steal glances.
I hate shaking hands, but I make exceptions.
I burst out crying sometimes. Usually I really have no idea why I'm crying. But more often, I laugh. & I think that balance is what keeps me sane.
Some evenings, I need to hear those words spoken by someone with that authority. Some evenings, I rely on that, on him, and on Him. & I can't tell you how grateful I am for that, nor can I tell you how terrified I am to not have that.
Other evenings, I can feel that I need to be the one speaking them--even if they're clumsy, and messy. Even if I don't say it in the "right" order or in such a pretty way.
Because the thing is, He gets my messy. 
He gets my clumsy 
     & my rambly 
          & my bubbly 
               & my whiny 
                    & my terrified-to-put-one-foot-in-front-of-the-other. 
He gets my heart.
         & He gets me. 
                  & He loves me, anyway.
Some days I really have no idea what I want, or how I'll accomplish it.
But then there's those mornings, when I crawl out of bed, and I show up in that classroom, and they wipe their snotty noses & dirty little sticky fingers on my sweater when they hug me "hello", and I see the way her eyes look when the lightbulb goes off and it clicks and she's reading "sock" "rock" "shock" "clock." 
There's those times when I teach them not to throw rocks or pull the wings off moths or eat their buggers or walk with untied shoes. 
There's those moments when I catch myself loving them; waiting patiently as they count or sound out a word. 
Those nurturing moments, when I clean their glasses, and get them a snack, and listen to their stories. 
Those moments when my heart aches for them, and for what the world will see as their disadvantage. & then there's those moments when I am so excited for each small accomplishment and step. Where I praise them over and over again, because I know how badly they need it--how badly we all need it.


There's those mornings when I think, "I'm here for a reason."
I can't help but think, "This must be a small portion of how He feels when I'm headed in the right direction."


I'm learning to trust & to hope. To give a little bit of my heart, & trust that it's in good hands. To hope that even when it doesn't seem to make sense, it will work out how it should.
I'm learning to worship & to be grateful & to remember whose hands I'm in.
I'm learning to be me & to be okay,
     but to realize that it's okay to let people into that.
I'm learning to not take offense.  I'm learning to love people, even when they say things that are less than kind. I'm learning to ignore that word. 
I'm learning to bite my tongue.
But I'm also learning to be true to myself, and that sometimes it's ok to just say it how it is. I'm learning that not everyone will respect that, but that they don't need to.
I'm learning to not need apologies.
I'm learning. My goodness, I'm learning.
But I have a whole lot to learn. 


I guess I need a few more autumns.


But you wanna know what? He takes me where I am. Snotty nose, dirty fingers, stubborn, cautious, slow, and learning. He takes my mistakes and my re-mistakes, and He builds me back up and He gives me the chance to put those pieces back together.


Grateful doesn't even begin to describe it.