Life updates of the Fern without roots

I think that I intended to blog a lot more lately than I have. Which lends to the need for an update blog rather than an emotional thoughts blog.

I think it is fairly safe to say I have settled down. At least, I'm fairly certain I finally obtained my goal of being in the same town two weekends in a row. What a mile stone! For the first time since, March of this year. My staying put was nothing glamorous or exciting, quite the opposite, actually.  Just me, in my apartment, with hours of Sunday afternoon stretched in front of me. I'm terrible at entertaining myself and I basically struggled through it, but! Goal achieved. Ironically enough, I'm currently back on the farm, working for my meals, as I've quite run out of sustanence back in DM and it seems silly to spend money on food when rent is coming up next week. A roof over head is much more costly, anyhow.

My other motivations for coming back were life things like, meeting a surgeon to have my shoulder examined to see what fixin might be done, lucky me, no surgery needed. My muscles, are simply stretched too far out and are no longer holding my shoulder blade up and my clavical bone keeps catching on the other bones, which lends to the most painful snapping, popping, sounds I've been experiencing. More shoulder strength exercises are all to be done.

No news on the job front, really. An upcoming interview this Friday! I'm only excited because this is the first interview I've acquired where I didn't have to call and remind the company I exist. I've quite given up all hope in truly obtaining employment, however, as it seems I shall simply be scraping by until my lease ends in May and then I shall move to somewhere else and reinvent a new life for myself. Being a young corporate employee seems overrated to me, anyhow. I'm much too proud to work a job that doesn't take a degree...I worked hard for that degree, after all. There were far too many thousands of tears spent for the right to have a job not equal to highschool level education. Far too many people look down on my current employment status for me to accept something low. Besides, I have goals that require funds, anyhow.

Which brings me to grad school. I never intended grad school during my time in undergrad. I hated the stress of studying and impending deadlines and requirements. So much stress. When my sister did her grad school during my undergrad years, I found myself consistently thankful that when I finished school, I'd be finished with school and I'd be spending my evenings stress-free, socializing like there was no tomorrow and staying out stupid late for the time I'd have to be at work in the morning. Thankful to be graduated I certainly have been. However, bored. Surprisingly enough, the world does not share my enthuse for a good party on a Tuesday night. In fact, my peers out in the real world consider themselves 'professionals' and they sleep at 10pm and awake at 6am. I did that in college when there were deadlines. Papers to write, meetings to attend and grades to achieve.

All that is to say, I'm going back to school. Currently I'm simply studying for my GRE. A 4hour long exam testing all that is important in life and if you score high enough, you are free to spend all your thousands of dollars on an education so the world will give you pats on the back. That's how I view grad school after sifting through jobs someone with a simple four-year-degree-from-a-prestigious-university can get.

Biblical counseling is my goal. I fully intend to do the ministry the Lord made my heart to want to do and if I'm so required by the world to make money doing it, so be it. Feel free to pray for my sanity as I attempt to relearn all the math I so gladly forgot when I told myself I'd never need math for my existence back in highschool.

I'm not bitter, really. Just frustrated that existence requires so much finances. And frustrated that all of the world's approval of my existence is so dependent on said finances. And topped off with the frustration that I seem to fall short in being wanted by the world by way of employment.

I guess you could say that the real world isn't half what I expected it to be. There are no parties or socials, and I wouldn't be able to afford them if there were. Perhaps I expected that all foundations I built for my life throughout college would apply everywhere and I'd be set to build and grow wherever. True it is not. But it is simply the discomfort of readjustment than an excuse for complaint. I have nothing of which I am not thankful, just frustrations over the things that are taking much longer than I thought.

It is a constant reminder that my identity fully belongs to Christ and not one single human has right to speak otherwise. I'm learning to put roots down only spiritually, and simply float everywhere else.

That is all of my life at this point. The tricky balance of chooses where to devout my limited funds and growing very dizzy holding my breath for jobs that I will not have.

Attitude is Everything

I have a lot of thoughts about a lot of things.

Phew!! This blog has been a long time coming. Probably 2 weeks at least. I've been opening my drafts folder every couple days for a while in a hopes of composing something brilliant.. But ya know... Good intentions don't always amount to good results, right?

So, I knew this was coming and some of my friends knew this was coming...but believe it or don't, I've grown a little fond of this little country bumpkin society that I felt punished with last fall. You may read back to those blogs if you like, but honestly, I didn't expect I would feel "home" here. And now that I've up and moved to Des Moines, it seems impossible to stay away.

I'm technically still employed here in Storm Lake. The office gives me hours enough to make rent and hold myself over until I find something solid closer to where I pay my bills.

But! There's something to this country living. Wearing boots, feeling macho as you carry two bales of hay at one time, eating garden fresh veggetables everyday and watching the sunset every night.

I hated it at first because I had no friends and I figured nothing could be enjoyed without friends. I have sense friended my gem little siblings who are basically 10+ years younger than I, but that doesn't matter. People often assume I'm only 2 or 3 years older than them and I don't mind.

Hicks. I never wanted to be a hick. Torn up, dirty ol' shirts, old jeans also ripped up, baseball caps and cowboy hats, boots and belt buckles. Totally not classy. Totally bum looking. Come on, people, at least dress up a little out in the public, you know? Heck, I was wearing maxi skirts and fancy shoes every day before I moved here.


Different worlds. But! Now that I've mucked a few stalls, fenced a few cattle yards, wrestled a few steers and hauled a few hundred pounds of grain, I've learned a few things about how these hick humans think.

First of all, you work hard. Physically, your muscles ache. You get a free workout better than any gym can offer because it's hours on hours of exorcise. Fencing takes two hours minimum. Chasing cows off the highway takes running speed, endurance, and than good arm and shoulder strength if your fast enough to halter them. Feed bags are 50lbs a piece. There's no build-up-to-it weight lifting, you just pick up the thing and carry it. Same with hay bales..they're probably only 30 or 40lbs...but if you need two of them and you really don't wanna make two trips to the cow trailer, you carry two of them. And you get all worn out and sweaty. So, the heck with lookin nice, you probably don't smell nice, so we try to look it?


Second of all, your clothes are gonna get ruined. If your fencing, you're gonna catch your clothes on the fence or the wire you used to make your fence or there's going to be a nail sticking out of something in the barn. So..holes are all the latest fashion. Rips are all the rage.

Another thing about farming is manure. In the movies, it's kind of a dry and chunky sort of material that some good looking farm hand is pitch-forking into a wheel barrow.
In real life, it's wet and slimy and soupy. "Mucking the stalls" gets it name from the sound your shovel makes when you lift it out of the...stuff. Think of muck and that's what you're standing in. So! Why wear new, trendy skinny jeans? Why not those cruddy flair jeans from 15 years ago? They even fit over your boots so all your mucking doesn't end up in your socks! So that explains why hick humans are stuck in fashion trends from my childhood. Skinny jeans sure look cute tucked into boots
and all...but the hems would be ruined for all the stuff that would get up into your boots. So that's
that.

Then there's the hats thing. Really, you do a lot of work straight up in the sun. It's hard to pound fence posts with the sun in your eye, so it's really practical to have a hat. Why not trendy sunglasses? Good question! Because of gravity. You see, when you sweat, sunglasses don't stay on so good. When you sweat and pound fence post, using all of your weight and muscle to come down on the thing to get it to drive into the ground, your sunglasses fall off of your face and land in whatever your standing in and will probably get stepped on by the friendly cow that it currently licking you up from top to bottom because you smell and taste like their pasture.

So then it is, why not wash and groom yourself before showing up in public? Well here's the thing, you take a lot of pride in all of your hard work and labor and sweat and toil. You earned every bruise and callus on your body. And since you don't get to call up all the humans to come over and admire your fence and fat cows, you kinda brag it off by going out into the public all dirty and bruised and still wearing your work clothes because in the farming world, 8-5 doesn't exist. Because if you shower, change, and go into town, and then come back and find that your cows are on the highway because the stupid black she-devil can stinkin jump OVER cattle panel, the time you lose by changing and preserving your clothes is way too dangerous. Cows are worth way too many thousands of moneys for you to worry about a pair of jeans when it the darned thing is about to lose to a semi.
So! Wear your stinkin work clothes out to dinner in case your back to work when you're done.

Plus, it's very accepted in this whole farm culture life. Everyone gets it. And the belt buckle thing? That's basically their way of being fashionable while not being fashionable. At least, that's what I've gathered. It's for show and pride rather than anything practical.

And being a human that had packed all the maxis and dress shirts away and made a life out of old
 for several months, when I moved back into the look -nice-all-day-err-day thing, I missed the acceptable tshirts life, just a little. Farmers are over it, really. At the end of the day, you really don't give a care about what you looked like or what people think of you cuz you stinkin made a 1000lb animal submit to your will.

So! All that is to say, being a psychologist, I know how plastic the brain can be and how it changes and adjusts easily, I accidentally became part hick and have a special sort of respect for country bumpkins that seem way outta the loop, fashion wise.

Not that I intended to blog about hick culture, but The Lord will go to pretty extreme measures to make sure your heart has no un-loving veins in it. So who knows but God why I had to learn to love and respect the bumpkins of the world, but speaking from experience over here, I strongly suggest you open your heart to all the peoples before The Lord decides that the best medicine for your darn
pride and selective acceptance is to plop you right in the middle of all the kinds of humans you like the least. And leave you there. With no friends.

You just watch yourself, punk.

So that leads me to this whole thing about attitude and work. Not that I want to admit it, but I have major attitude issues sometimes. The summer after my freshman year of college I worked at the farmers market selling honey for my parents. I, of course, judged all the hicks there and hated every second I was associated with farming. I think people only bought from me cuz I let them sample the sweetness of our honey, which probably made up for the bitterness of my pride.

I had a terrible attitude about moving out to the boondocks. I had a terrible attitude about being removed from all my friend humans. I had a terrible attitude about how The Lord chooses to act and
work out His careful plans and how He prunes our branches without taking into regard our opinions for how we think it aught to be done.

How any of my friends wanted to keep me, even over long distance, is beyond me. Ew.

But, the stubborn thing about the Lord is that He will give 70x7 opportunities to get your attitude worked out. And 70 x 7 chances upon each one of the fist 70 x 7 chances. Good luck not learning your lesson! Ha!


I've has quite a few opportunities to work on my attitude. Last week my siblings had to help clean up the fair grounds for fair and I got roped into helping because I was home early to work in the office the next day. We arrived a little late for when it started and we were told by a friend of ours that there was major 'tude going on all over the place. We weren't in a bad mood yet and I quickly called a huddle meeting with my little ducklings as we assessed the situation. After some chatting, we decided that the best way to fend off a bad attitude was to play it like we were having the best stinking time of  our young lives.

We got out on fridge and concession booth cleaning and w e went to town, chuckling at the black mold, being in awe and wonder at the mouse droppings in the refidgerator, and repeatedly telling eachother how great we were doing and how awesome things were looking.

We figured outer good moods might be offensive to the humans out there who hated their lives, but I think that only encouraged us all the more..knowing we had the power to have a good time out of dusting and catching spiders with our bare hands. People walked by and complained about the smell of bleach, to which we responded to eachother with high fives all-around for killing the mold. "Good use of bleach, Kolby! Killing mold saves lives!" "I appreciate you using bleach after those mouse droppings, good work!"

And the adults would walk by and observe us cleaning the fridge and, thinking we'd completely ignored the shelves under the counter, would point out the shelves and say, "the shelves need to be cleaned." We'd bleached them already, but for as many times as we were asked to clean the shelves, we always immediately complied and cleaned them again. Making sure they felt respected and heard. We bleached every shelf, underbelly and all, at least five times. It took at last an hour, but we didn't mind. We were really rather safe from the other human's bad attitudes of we kept in our corner and kept cleaning the same things over and over. Anyone at the fair can order 4H concessions in good conscious, knowing that the place was cleaned through and through.

One particularly grumpy lady made a comment about how we sure seemed to be in a good mood. "Of course!" We replied, "our parents taught us never to work with a bad attitude." She complained a lot less after that.

We really do have a good time. Everything we did was the best, funniest thing ever. And every complaint we took in was apologized for profusely with a lot of, "oopsie poopsie! How could we have missed that?? Thank you so much for pointing that out!"

Surprisingly enough, not too many grumpy parents stuck around to see if we did the job they wanted done. What shocked me the most, though, we just how rude the parents were. Rolling their eyes, complaining loudly about having to clean, treating people they didn't know with disrespect. I get that they assumed I was in high school, but either way...you shouldn't disrespect people just because you have a bad attitude. I hope I never teach my kids it's okay to be grumpy at strangers who didn't do anything to you to deserve it.

Me and Eva got the chance to practice our attitudes again on Sunday when we had volunteered to work a concession station. I had exhausted myself over the weekend and Eva had fair projects to finish. But, if there's anything we've been taught, is that, no matter what attitude you have, if you said you were gonna do something, you better do it. Be all there and be committed.

So we showed up and got out on filling drinks. "No worries," they told us, "it's been slow all day".
Now, I worked concession at Iowa Hawkeye football games, I'm a fast pace, high intensity, pressure kinda performer. I don't do slow. So! I moved myself off drinks and got on a register and started announcing all we had to offer at every human walking by. Next I knew, Eva was at my side doing the same thing. We pulled in a few customers and decided that method was working. Then we figured  out that between her cute face and my loud voice, we had something going for us. We made it our whole goal to catch any and every potential customer out there. We decided it was like fishing.

We complimented their shoes, we told them they did a great job biking so far and we expressed our care and concern over their hydration and hunger. "Have you drank enough water today?? You should drink more water!" "Sir, you look very hungry. Would you like a turkey filet sandwich? We can feed you!" Did we do that? Did we shamelessly bat our eyes and smile our best smiles? Yes. We did that. All our proceeds went to cornerstone for life, a pro-life ministry dedicated to saving babies. Amen, amen.

Needless to say, we had a great time, our attitudes were well adjusted, and we stayed two hours past our shift and were stilling pulling in hungry customers at 10pm, making well over $100 in tip money alone.

Good attitudes make for a great time.

So that is where I am now. Working on my attitude while I wait on the Lord's provision.

July

Has it really been a full year since I moved out of Iowa City? Yes. Yes it has. I just can't believe it. It's been the fastest and slowest year of my life. 

I'm still not managing to stay in one place very long. I keep telling my friends that when the day comes that I'm in the same place for two weekends in a row I will have to celebrate. Who knows when that will be, though? For me, a 2.5 hour drive is as natural as going to the grocery store. In fact, I probably do more of those 2 hour stints than I do buy groceries. 

I'm still hunting a job. You'd think I'd become less picky as time drags on and desperation builds up. But when I think about it, there are a couple potential ideas that I've simply ruled-out for the time being. 

Also, the more I wait on a job, the more I dream about grad school and finishing out my goals and dreams. However, waiting on a job means that my funds for existence are slowly dwindling down and grad school seems less and less realistic. But! someday! 

In the meantime, amidst job applications and cover letters, I've been on the move. Popping back and forth between my apartment and the farm. Honestly, I can't really say if I truly live in Des Moines yet. I'm getting better at the street names and one-ways and traffic, but I haven't found any thing that makes me embrace it altogether. 

We'll see though! I've only been here two months. And not even that because I haven't fully stayed here all that long.  All of my decisions lately have been on whether I should stick around here and grow some roots or keep living in the moment and run from reality. 

I usually choose to run from reality. I spend enough time with reality as it is. 

So that takes me to now. It's Friday! And I'm in Des Moines, believe it or not. I'll be on the road again soon enough, but for today and tomorrow, I'll hopefully be in one place. 

I've thought a lot about The Lord in all of this. I've sort of asked for prayer in finding a job. I've sort of placed my trust in the Lord's hand and direction as I wait for an interview or a call or some indication that I have a chance at employment at some point in the near future. 

Sort of. 

The funny thing about being a believer is you never fully learn all of the lessons on trusting the Lord the first time or even the second or third. Or maybe it's just me? I don't believe it's just me. 

I think, deep down, I'm trusting the Lord. Deep down I know the Lord will provide the perfect job and put in the perfect place.  I know that, which is why I don't worry so much, I guess.

But actually, I've been a little anxious. Well, really anxious. Mostly because of my pride being all squashed and tromped on. Humans my age are expected to be established and independent and having their life altogether. I don't. I don't have my life together and I'm not 100% independent and I'm certainly not established. 

But, I'm learning to accept such humble circumstances and not worry after it too much. 

Waiting, you know? Still waiting. 

The Hippie Life

In case you were wondering how Fern is doing since she moved, I've decided to volunteer the details of my life, of late. 

I like Des Moines. That might be hard to believe, considering I spend more time in my car than I do in my apartment, but I do. 

But I travel. Ever since I moved I've been back and forth between Storm Lake and Des Moines, Iowa City and Des Moines and Minnesota and Des Moines. It's a good central location to everywhere I go in my life. 

I got back to Des Moines today after 4 days away, and I shall be traveling to MN this weekend. Gracious. How is my life? Busy. It's busy and full and I'm ready to settle down. But, there will be no settling any time soon. Bless. 

I won't complain. I like to be on the move. I shall feel a little spread out. 

Actually, since moving, I've quite come to wonder who I am any more. I think I lost my full grip on my  identity months ago. I don't know me any more. When you move somewhere new you have the chance to re-write your identity, all brand new, however you want. And I don't know who I am any more, so settling down here has been a challenge. 

I became a "hick", I guess, while I was away. I began wearing boots and jeans with holes in them and hoodie sweatshirts and baseball caps. (I NEVER would have done that before). But it was what was practical for hauling fence, wrangling cows and chopping wood. 

During some of my down time working in the office I browsed Pinterest for ideas on how to have healthier hair. I mean.. my hair grows really slowly.. I bleached it blonde in December of 2012 and the ends of my hair are still bleached... that's how slowly my hair grows. 

So anyways.. .I decided I would become a hippie and see how all that life would be. The all natural, just eat some plants, don't wash your hair, brush your teeth with baking soda, sleep in the woods in a hammock even when you know it's going to rain and preach coconut oil like it was the end times. I felt more unaware of who I was when I was on that kick.. so I decided I'm not actually a hippie. I broke after two weeks and started washing my hair with shampoo again. (I still showered everyday.. just to clarify).  

I also stopped with the jeans and hoodies and boots. I'm not a hick either. Currently, I'm a water-bottle toting, tshirt wearing gym junkie. But not that junkie.. I don't go out of my way to hit the gym.. just as often as possible.. so everyday or every other day. But I don't know that I'm actually a gym rat either. 

Because my lifestyle doesn't really allow for that anyways. I'm on the road every couple days and I don't work out on vacation.. although I do seek out hiking trails and will hit multiples in a day if I can. 

But that's weird. When did I become weird? When I became lost I guess. But I don't know when that was. I think, though, I'm trying so hard to analyze myself into a box so I can then try to find where I belong, but I'm so many odd different things I need to plug myself in so I have an identity again. 

I need roots. 

I need to grow some connections and branches and fruits of the spirit is whats what. 

But, that is basically where I am for now. Not really anywhere. All over the place and hunting for a job. HOPING for a job. Wishing for a job.  That's about it. 

God says, "Know"

Sometimes I forget that I ever started writing a book. 29 pages is still like a child's short story.. but maybe someday I will actually finish it. It will be called, God says, "Grow".. I think. That's what I'm calling it for now. Mostly because all while going through high school and doing a lot of street witnessing with my youth group, I always thought about writing a book called, God says, "Go". And I had done lots of Bible research, finding all the places where God told someone to go. To act. To follow, to obey. He tells us to go. 

However, when I took a Perspectives class my Sophomore year of college and became SO discontent with my life as a college student as I spent HOURS a week learning of all the people who were going and doing and obeying God's call in their life and *I* was wasting my life in college, I realized that 'GO" isn't always the message. The Lord told me to go.. yes. But He told me to be all there. College. I was a sophomore.. it was not the time to drop everything and move to Africa. 

What really hit me in the face was when, as a senior in college, I sat down with a missionary in Nicaragua and began discussing what it would look like for me to FINALLY go and move my whole self over to Nicaragua and be everything I dreamed of being since highschool.. a missionary. Yes I want to be a wife and a mom.. but a missionary would be SO great too. 

Someone who had walked by and overheard my conversation and my potential plans to begin Spanish classes so I could move over there without too much trouble asked me, "Fern! Are you thinking of becoming a missionary?" 

And then I realized.. I already was. The moment I entered into the Kingdom of God and said, "Yes, Lord. I will follow you." That was the moment I became a missionary. My whole life purpose is to point people to Christ. And I am going and doing in a lot of different ways. Sometimes it looks like me having someone sit on my couch, sipping coffee, telling me about what they're going through and me speaking whatever words of Truth the Lord gives me. Sometimes it looks like me rocking babies in a church nursery. 

Sometimes it looks like me putting money in the offering plate or driving to pick someone up for church. 

Life as a believer is life as a missionary. It doesn't take moving to Africa or India and raising thousands of dollars to live without electricity on straw mats in a mud hut. 

So the moment I realized that I was living my dream, and "going" every day, I shifted my focus to realize that, "yes, God says Go. And we go. But as we go, God says, grow." 

Grow! Grow where you are. Grow where He takes you. Grow at home, grow at church, grow at Bible study, grow on vacation, on retreats, in pain, in valleys, in darkness. Grow. Just grow. Grow your roots so that no matter what happens, you don't washout. 

I've thought about my book a few times lately and the progress I haven't made. It's coming, I promise! 

But you know what else I've encountered that's true of God? 

God says, "no."  Hahaha.. I chuckle. I laugh at myself because if there is ANYTHING I don't want to believe about God, is that he says 'no' to something that *I* think is a really great idea. 

I had a great idea for my life sometime last fall. And I *refused* to pray about it because I thought maybe God might say 'no.' I mean, I know the Lord, I'm kinda figuring out what He wants for me, and I had this little bitty hope but I figured if I didn't say anything, it could be as fleeting as all other hopes and my heart would be fine. 

I even told the Lord, "Alrighty Lord.. I'm gonna pray about this. But I don't want to because you're just going to say no." Maybe I thought I could reverse psychology God? My stupidity never ceases to amaze me, honestly. 

Sure enough, it was as I thought, God said no. But you know what, I'm really thankful. I'm thankful that my faithful God is steady and true. I could kind of sense that my good idea might not be the BEST idea.. but sometimes I like to play the, whatever-my-heart-has-been-damaged-before-what's-one-more-time card. Like.. I'm a live in the moment person. I occasionally ponder consequences.. but I don't actually really care if the present thing seems really great. You know?

But God won't let us have anything less than what's best. I appreciate that. I appreciate that my future is more valuable than my present desires. 

God is good. Even when He says, "no." Especially when He says, "no"... ESPECIALLY. 

Because you know what? "No" can be one of the most loving things anyone ever says to you. An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, right? 

How many times did I have to say "no" to my nanny kids out of my deepest wish for their well beings?  But really.. if God said yes to everything, I wouldn't be all that convinced that He cared. 

Maybe when God says, "No" its sung on the same wave length as "Grow" and we can't actually distinguish what He said. "Grow, Fern. Grow."

When you're looking for a "Yes," or a "no" Maybe you should always prepare your ears to hear, "Grow." Because if He says, "Wait" He actually just said, "Grow." If He said, "Yes" He said, "Grow." 

And if He straight up says, "No. No way. No." He said "grow." 

Grow in your faith, grow in your truth, grow in love and truth and grace. Grow in obedience and compassion and selflessness. Just grow. 

And above alll else, prepare your ears to hear, "I love you." Because that's what He said louder than His other answers. He withholds no GOOD thing from those He loves. He knows the plans He has for you! Plans to prosper you and not to harm you! Plans to give you a hope and a future! 

Plans. Plans that require some "no." Plans that require you to be still and know. Know that He is God. 

Waiting

Step by step by step by step. 

I named this blog One Step at a Time because sometimes, that's all I can do. One step. One fractional, inch of a step. 

Some days trusting The Lord comes naturally, and sometimes, I focus on the winds and the rains and waters and I begin sinking. When Peter sank, the Bible says that "Immediately Jesus stretched out his hand and caught him." Immediately. 

Some days I feel like I'm sinking two days in a row. Or three. Or... a whole week..or month. I don't know.. somethings just feel... off. Where is the joy that is supposed to be so abundant and overflowing? Where is the peace? Where is the man walking on water who is coming to say, "Peace be Still." 
I find myself with the faith of the disciples some times. When I look out on the water I see a ghost. Jesus, my Lord and savior who I'd give my life to all over again.. just a vague silhouette on the horizon of  a great storm or windy, wavy, rough, unpredictable waters. 

When He seems like a ghost, it's really easy to look the other way. At the waves. At the rains. At the depth of the sea or the great odds that the boat is going to sink. 

I'm not one easily given to anxiety, but that isn't to say I'm not one given to anxiety. I am. Which mostly erupts in some sudden realization of how stressed or worried I am and then I just cry. I'll break down, cry a good hour or two..compose myself, sleep it off. And be calm for... who knows how long. It varies. 

I'm moved though. To a new city. New apartment. New streets, new neighborhood. Hopefully new friends. Hopefully new job. (A few things still in the coming.) 

Perhaps you'll remember that I have recently become obsessed with abandoned things. Houses and what-not. Cemeteries.. because those are abandoned bodies. I spend hours wondering after the lives that are no longer. Whatever they were, whatever they became. Whatever happened to make the soul leave the body. Whatever ever happened to the soul that left the body. I'm rather very curious. 

But I realized that part of the curiosity is stemmed from my own anxieties for myself. I'm easily given to believing false truths if I'm not careful to check it against God's word. So I'm easily given to slight notions of thinking *I* am abandoned. Or that I will be. 

I worry that I will abandon the life God had set for me and choose the wrong thing. And that the grand beautiful plans will sit desolate and alone.. much like the houses I find that are worn to the joists and covered in dust and aren't much more than an empty reminder that there once was life. Once upon a time. But the life has since left. 

When I walk through an abandoned house, picking out the living room or the kitchen or a bedroom, I wonder if the people who had lived there laughed. I wonder if they had been happy in that house. If happy things happened there. And I wonder myself if my life shall be happy. If it shall be marked by laughter and happy memories. Currently, yes. It has those things. Laughter and happiness. But if a house can have it and not, than probably my life, too, can have it and then not. 

As I wander in and among the countless gravestones of very young children and stillborn infants, I think about the life that never happened. God is in control of all things and I know there is no such thing as a child who shouldn't exist. But I wonder why they were here for so brief. And I worry that I shall never quite start my life. 

I feel like I haven't started my life. 

I'm like Repunzel in Tangled just, "Wondering and wondering and wondering and wondering 'when will my life begin?'" 

But the thing is. I'm not stuck. (I know that). I'm not held back. I'm nothing. I have all freedoms I could ever want or need. I'm just shy of a job. 

Perhaps its the lack of employment that makes me feel as though I have no current sense of purpose. 

I'm learning very quickly that it's not where I live that will make me happy, but what I live for. And how I live. And I'm bad at living. 

I'm bad at living with present purpose because I'm still hoping for a future fantasy. My little hopes treasured in jars of clay, waiting to be opened and lived. Sometimes I feel like I'm living. And sometimes I feel like I'm not. 

All in all, the Lord still whispers into my heart that He who began a good work in my will be faithful to complete it and carry it out until the day of Christ Jesus. But I'm rather an impatient person. 

I can just here my mother's words echoing in the background, "The goal is not the goal. It's the process to get there. Enjoy the process." 

Somedays I like the process, somedays I like the end point. 

I'm living in the future right now. I'm living for the day I get offered a job. I'm living for the day I will welcome my little brother home from the airport and be wrapped in one of his epic bear hugs. I'm living for this coming weekend with my older brother and a dear family friend. 

But I just wanna live. To be content. To be satisfied in the stillness. To be full in an empty house. 

That's all I want right now. My hands are open and my heart is hopeful. 

Learning and What Not

I feel like I start a good many of my blogs by saying, "I don't know where to start" but, it's true. Is there even a good place to pick up and and keep going? The reason things were dropped is because there was nothing to carry, so what is picking up?

By that I mean, this blog. It's been since what.. February? Really? Yes. So, do I give you an update or just blog like whatever, hardly explaining what or why there was no writing?

I ask myself these things. In truth, Life was the same old/ same old. I still am staying on my parents' farm. I'm working part time at the office with the official title of "Temp Office Assistant."

But those are just facts. I never intended to have  a blog about facts. This blog is for Jesus. It's supposed to be that, anyways. Roots, though. 

My great-grandfather, Chester Eggen, passed away at the age of 102years old a year ago, Valentines Day. He spoke at his own funeral. By a recorded video, with final words. 100 years of walking on the earth with Jesus and he imparted wisdom. 

Roots, he said. Grow your roots. If there is anything you do when you pursue the Lord, make sure you have good roots. Lilies of the valley, neither toil nor spin. They don't worry about anything but are so beautiful. That's from a passage Grandpa quoted. Roots.

I was uprooted and replanted here. And you know what I've avoided at all possible costs? Roots. Even now... especially now, the idea of putting down roots around here leaves a bitter sort of taste in my mouth. But don't get me wrong. I love my family, love my home, love my parents, love my siblings. Love my bed. 

But small town life is not me. My friend, Shawn, told me when I was first out here that I was here for a reason and I needed to let the Lord reveal the reason to me. 

Of course I was a touch bit bitter. I felt the Lord had me out here to make me realize the weight of what I lost. The Lord brought me out here to show me that he has the power to give and take away and good gracious, I better get it in my head that I'm just a small little human who has no control over my life because I gave it to the Lord. 

Which.. I learned that. With bitterness and less grace than ever a lessons was to be learned... but there was way more. IS way more. 

Okay.. bitterness.. it has roots too. Ugly, gnarly, nasty, strong roots. The little roots that you think should break, but you have to tug with all your might to remove them and even then, pray you don't wrench your shoulder out of your socket while you do it. 

I let that weed in my garden and that's been a problem. Even now, it bothers me the most. My heart was not made for bitterness and I'd sooner chop that part of my heart off and have a smaller heart than have any bitterness in it. 

But I am moving, hopefully soon, and I'm sure the Lord will do all the work on my heart that will need for repairs. 

But, about those lessons. I learned a lot about myself. I'm not a small town girl, after all. I'm so city/fast pace/ lots of humans girl. I'm city girl with the need for grass and stars. With the need for humans with grass to invite me to their grass in the evening after work or on a weekend. I'm a city girl with the need for hiking trails and hills and pastures and rivers and woods and nature. I need a mix of crazy and gentle. I'm extreme extroverted with the occasional need for absolute isolation with just the Lord. 

Coasting does not work for me. Days that start to blur together and look like the one before and the one after don't work for me. 

I really like NOT hearing sirens. My last neighborhood had arrests and fire trucks and what have you at least once a day. I like the quiet of the farm. I like the darkness of the farm. No street lights shining in my window. No worry about the fact that I took down my curtains last month. It's just dark. I like dark.

I learned that I like being busy. I like getting work done. I like looking forward to things. 

I'm picky about what kind of dirty I get. I don't mind being dirty, I don't mind being sweaty. But, I don't like having manure on my fingers or under my nails or on my clothes or in my hair. The smell bothers me. The idea of it bothers me. The sticky'ness of it bothers me. 

I really like being physically exhausted when I fall asleep. I could only get 5hrs of sleep, but if I physically wore myself out enough, I'll have the most wonderful sleep ever. 

I learned that walking down a dirt road is more delightful if you go 8miles than if you go 4, because by the time you get to the part where the neighbor dogs chase you, your legs are numb enough to go further than if you're only 3miles warmed up. 

I learned I REALLY love worshipping the Lord with humans who are worshipping the Lord. 

With that, I learned I really get annoyed when you can tell people are just singing. Just reading words to a tune. My heart feeds off of the energy of others. When the church body is coasting, I coast. I hate coasting. 

Hard work/ a well worked week, makes a sabbath sweet. I love that. I like extremes. I really do. 

Except for weather and human mood swings. I like those better and a comfortable, steady, predictable type.

I learned that The Lord REALLY blessed me with good friends. I have the sweetest, bravest friends. They fight for me, round the clock. There's nothing I could tell them that they wouldn't be ready with an encouraging word, Truth from the Lord, a good response, you name it. They are REAL gems. The kind that make you KNOW that you are ENOUGH no matter what and never TOO MUCH. The kind that make you feel "Just right." 

I also learned, my heart was MADE to serve. It is hard wired to the CORE of my being that I need to serve other humans. In any way. Every way. I *NEED* to be a blessing. My heart needs that. 

The Lord made me that way. The less of me there is, the more I feel myself. I *have* to be poured out so the Lord can show who He is. Not serving is like letting catching rainwater off the roof and not emptying the bucket to make room for more water. You never get to see how great the bucket is at catching water if its too full to catch  any in the first place. 

Coffee dates with humans. I loves those. I love humans telling me whats going on in their lives. Like, legitimately going on. "Hows it goin'?" greetings don't work for me either. 

The truth is, I've learned a TON about myself. I wouldn't trade my time here for anything. Well... I mean, I wouldn't trade the lessons I learned from my time here for anything. 

But sometimes I find myself wondering, "Okay Lord. Did I learn it yet?" "Am I done?" "I'm ready to return to the world now." 

I ask the Lord that a lot. Well.. not so much lately. I never heard him say, "yes" or "no".. but I'm still here so I assume he's still putting on the final details. 

Above all else, I've learned that there is no place I could go, no job I could do, no situation to be had that the Lord didn't intend for learning and growing and teaching and showing of Himself. Always, His fingerprints will be evident. 

I've wondered if my bitterness ruined my learning of the lesson the Lord sent me here to learn. But no. The Lord is in control of all things and it would be impossible for me to screw anything up because the Lord cannot be screwed up. I have so much peace in that. I'm quite thankful for it as well.