Hearing God

Part of growing up is letting go of some of the ideas you held as a child. For instance, you learn that parents aren't perfect and neither is any relationship you will ever have. My current situation is not at all one that I ever saw myself being in. I am pursuing a relationship that puts me at odds with my best friend. I have two reasons to justify my actions. The lesser one is that I would never have done this if she had feelings for this guy. The most important reason is that God is leading me in this direction. I have always struggled with allowing God to direct me before I moved. This time I have done my best to do just that. I've done nothing but pray since there was even a shadow of impending confusion on the horizon. And I feel that God is leading me to pursue this relationship whatever it may turn into. My relationship with my best friend is hugely important to me, but I like to think that relationship is not based on others' opinion of my ability to hear and follow God. I am not perfect, but neither is anyone else. We are incapable of being perfect because we are human. The first two humans screwed that up for the rest of us and the result was conflict. Sometimes I feel bad because I don't feel bad. I regret that I have hurt a friend, but I don't doubt my hearing God. Therefore I can rest assured that if this is God everything will work out and fall into place. So while I'm not enjoying my best friend and I's troubled relationship I still believe I am doing what God would have me to do.

I Still Live at Home

I'm quite comfortable with the above phrase. Of course, when I moved to college I liked calling Nashville home. It wasn't the house I was born in, the only one I've ever lived in. My mail still went there and collected on my mom's desk. Beginning Friday, I don't live at home anymore. I'll still be in Dirty Mo most of the time until my nanny duties are complete. But come August 14th I am free to live in my blessed little retro apartment. When I first signed the lease for it I was more relieved at having a place to live than excited about living there. Boone is a college town. The University is the town basically. That means a lot to do and a lot of people to meet. And now that I think about it a free bus service all over town. Consequently, apartments are small and very scarce. At the eleventh hour, however, God shone a light on this little two story complex. Overly dramatic? I think not. I called tons of management companies and complex offices only to be told there was no "room in the inn". Now here I am. My belongings are mostly packed minus clothing and sitting in cardboard boxes all around my *mom's house*. Understandably this is hard for her. This makes two people that have been thrust out of her home in the last year. Given, I will return. This weekend some of the wonderful, giving men from our church are going to drive a U-Haul up and load and unload all my crap. Lord, Bless them. If not for them my move would be incredibly slow and rather painful for the Mini. I'm excited to have a new start. Beginning college is a new start. It takes you away from home and for most people out of your comfort zone. I grew a lot as a person and as an individual in my time at Belmont. I truly believe that I probably wouldn't be prepared to set out on my own if I hadn't gone to school 7 hours from home the first time around. I have the kind of parents that if you asked enough, at the right time, in the right voice (either all together or any individual circumstance) whatever you needed or wanted would be taken care of. When in Nashville, I made the car repair appointments. I decided when and what to buy. When I came home it was easy to fall back into the child role. The dependent. I'm sure there will be many times in the next year or so that I try to crawl back into that safe box. But life won't let me now and that is a good thing. So look at me go. I'm on my own. I even have my own home phone number. (It's the little things.)

The Game of Life

I am going in so many directions right now that I actually recorded a voice memo of what I wanted to say in this blog. The moment the need to blog hit me I was driving through town and I knew 500 more things would fly through my brain before I made it to my computer.
In dealing with Daddy's death I have discovered that there are many stages to grief. They don't go in any particular order or come the same way for any two people. Right now I'm at a stage where I don't cry much, but I miss him. There are places and activities that hold a lot of memories with him. It feels like an empty spot in my chest at those times. In 30 seconds, I go from a happy memory, to missing him, to the realization that he is dead (as there is no nice way to say it), and finally back to stability. When the moment has passed I feel relieved and proud of myself that I can have a period of grief and move on. I know that this is not a permanent stage. I will, no doubt, regress into intense weeping, but I will also once again rise to a stage of happy memories and thankfulness for the time I had. In ten days I will be handed the keys to my very own apartment. The bills are in my name. The lease is in my name. I selected the cable and internet bundle and set up the installation. It is my responsibility to pay the bills, the rent, and most horrifically to clean. I wish Daddy could see it. I know he does. I know he would be proud. I know that after "existing on your own" comes the so-called "love story that leads to marriage". I'm excited for all of these things. The days ahead will be filled with both happy and sad tears. Bittersweet growing pains. I have to learn to let go of my mom as much as she has to learn to let go of me. (Just don't tell her I said that.) So here I go Daddy...on my own. I can't call you to fix the toilet, change my oil, or buy my groceries. But it's ok. You and mom raised me well. I can do this.
On to Alexx. The story of our friendship is a soap opera. I heard of his existence and immediately decided I didn't like him. He met me and decided he liked me. Boy meets girl. Girl falls for boy. You know how it goes. We've had a few extra twists and turns in there. For instance, we ended up cousins. Cool trick, huh? Months ago we ended anything beyond friendship and the hope there of. There are infinite reasons why we would never work, although that could be said for any relationship. In a matter of days he will be in Iraq. I would go as far as to say that I would rather relive the lies than see him go to war. War is out of my control. Out of his control. He can't come running when something happens. In a lot of ways he has taken up some of the "dad" jobs. He fixes my lame drawer every time it breaks. He buys me things I don't deserve. More importantly he has been here through it all. As cheesy as it sounds, he was the only one that could make me smile when I first withdrew from school for depression. He was the first to mention withdrawing as a possibility. It turned out to be the right decision. The morning Daddy died he was the first one here. He took care of things. I don't even know what all he did. I don't remember many of those details. But I know he was here. And I know that if another crisis were to strike he'd be here again. I don't want him to have the chance to prove it though! Now here I am with another emotional hole to crawl out of and where is he, but the sandbox. I am thankful for the sacrifices our soldiers make. This is the closest I've ever been to someone in the military. I'm proud of him and all he has accomplished. My dad would have loved to see all that he has become and is going to be. Daddy wanted so badly to be a father figure to Alexx when he needed one. Just to hang out and do "boy" things. They went fishing and horseback riding and hiking and all that when we went to Gatlinburg. Daddy really enjoyed the company. Alexx may never know how much of an impact him saluting my Daddy at the graveside means to me. To see him cry and honor my father will forever endear him to me no matter what the future brings. Selfishly, I am thankful that we are only friends. I can't imagine having your partner, boyfriend, fiancee what have you, gone into danger. At the same time it doesn't change how much I care. I guess just the way I care. It's hard to ignore his absence when I spend 40 hours a week at his house, surrounded by his face. There are many times that Reagan acts just like him, minus the ability to walk and talk of course. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I don't like it. I'd rather him be here and safe and hate his guts every now and then, than him be in Iraq. God is good and mighty. My God is mighty to save. And save and protect His child he will. Lord please give him strength, wisdom, and of course protection.