It’s been a while since I’ve written. The problem isn’t that I have nothing to say. The problem, actually, is that I have far too many things to say and no idea how to say them. I have cooked with my 90-year old grandfather, visited the youth ministry where I interned the summer after high school, laughed (way too loudly for the setting we were in) with my closest friends, had 3 friendship-defining conversations, and cried six times… and that was just this past weekend.
I intended to blog a lot over Christmas break, but I didn’t actually do anything I intended to do over Christmas break. I did not blog, or think, or journal, or work through anything. I didn’t go to Urbana. I didn’t Skype anyone. I didn’t do any Pinterest projects. I didn’t cry. Instead I made soup, watched Parenthood and Parks and Rec and The Office, rode to and from Saginaw more times than any sane human ever should, and became best friends with Angél the waiter at the local Mexican restaurant.
I didn’t do anything over break… and that was exactly what I needed. The fall semester left me exhausted in every way. The highs and lows were plentiful and extreme, and there didn’t seem to be any middle ground. There were days I walked with confidence, laughed from my gut, and smiled until I thought my face would break… and there were days I had to force myself to get out of bed, put my hair in a ponytail, and pretend to pay attention in class. I wrestled with friendships, faith, and the things I was learning. Break was a welcome calm in the midst of the existential storm that I’m fairly sure every 20-year-old Bible College student faces to some degree or another.
Then break ended. The tears came almost as soon as my tires hit the gravel at the end of the driveway. I had been back almost a day when I crawled under my blankets and stared at the wall in surrender.
The difference between this semester and last semester, though, is that I will not allow myself to wallow anymore. I am researching, questioning, and conversing. I am forcing myself to be both physically active and cheerful. Those hard conversations I used to ignore? I’ve had 3 in the last 3 days. Earlier today I sent an email to a former Moody student, asking her advice. The beginning of her response said,
“First let me tell you: EVERYTHING IS GOING TO BE OKAY.”
And you know what?