i am twenty years old and i have lived in three different cities and two states. i have really long, really curly hair and i think my eyes are hazel. i wear a lot of black but i am learning that i like wearing dark red colors, too. i have a lavender bike and i love silence and reading and writing and traveling. There are a lot of things that define me, a lot of things that i just wrote could easily shape the way that people think of me and even the way that i think of myself. If i have learned anything in my short amount of time on this earth it is that we are always growing and changing and seasons are always ending and starting and very few things in life are permanent.
Kevin // Part Four
i am constantly having to remind myself that Kevin is not defined by the fact that he is an orphan. Knowing and loving that little Guatemala has taught me a lot about what God has rescued us out of by making us a part of His family, and i am so thankful for that. i am praying that one day Kevin will get to tangibly understand what it means not to be an orphan anymore. i want him to have a last name and a room to himself and so much more, because he deserves it. He is a punk, but i love him because God loves all of the punks in the whole world.
Shame or Freedom
i am leaving home today. i am currently sitting in my bed drinking coffee and enjoying a slow morning. i've been home for three weeks and it's been really hard and full and slow. i have learned a lot and i've cried a few times and i've watched more movies than i can count. Despite how miserable it has been at times, home has been exactly what i needed it to be.
i am moses
i am Moses trying to convince the God of the Universe that He picked the wrong person. i am Moses reminding God of all of my faults. i am Moses feeling small and human and thinking of nothing beyond my own abilities. i am Moses looking at the bush and still doubting the power of our Creator. i am Moses being humbled and stretched and living awe of who God is.
The Truth About Self Love
The problem with being a writer is that moments of inspiration come at beautifully inconvenient times. Like right now. It's 8am in the middle of the week. i'm listening to great music and sitting in a coffee shop by the window and the sun is shining in a delicately perfect way. This room smells like pan dulce, which makes me think of the days i spent walking the streets of Guatemala. My coffee is too hot to drink and the test i'm supposed to be studying for is too soon. However i will continue in my never-failing pattern of being a poor student and take this lighting and that smell for what it's worth. This moment is too beautiful to spend it studying.
The Bridge Called Counseling
i'm sitting in this waiting room for the hundredth time. my heart is beating loudly and i feel like i'm going to vomit. i've been here for ten minutes and i should have gone in five minutes ago and every minute that passes is a stronger temptation to run.
A year ago, i went to my first counseling session.
Last week, after five months away, i went back.