God told Elijah to get some rest when he wasn’t feeling well. And after some rest, I read through the last few chapters in Hebrews, and also read James, Jude, and 1 Samuel 1 with my prayer journal given to me by a kindred spirit. It sit in my Bible. I read about God’s kindness and mercy and wrote down prayers and thoughts. What to do to not be discouraged, and basically warnings against bitterness, anger, resentment, etc. And how to love other people better. So with all that in mind, Lord please help me to have a wonderful, uplifted spirit as I listen to Plantasia and write stories about little boys and trees. In Christ’s name, a-men.

Today I am sitting on my bed. Too tired to work. Ashamed to have been too tired to do work before today. Ashamed to have done work on Sunday. Ashamed to be checking my friends’ social medias to see if they’ve posted anything. Ashamed to have over-indulged on lovely Filipino food that the family bequeathed me with. And yet, I know that in YOU, Jesus, I will find rest.

Why is life a lonely life with so many highs and lows? Sometimes, I just want to crawl in Mama’s arms. Sometimes I don’t.

Right now, my roommate is taking at least twenty pictures of herself trying to get the perfect selfie in some plush jacket.

“It’s for the pitch,” she says.

Part of me longs for Alabama, working on a film, soaking in the sun, being with friends. Parts of me dreads it. But I know that if I am not happy here, I will not be happy.

My family gets mad at me when I do not agree with them, or when I question their political views because I don’t want to believe something simply for the sake of believing it.

Why is it that such little things can create such big walls? Do none of us care about Jesus? Do we find what saves us politics? Why do we care so much about so little?

Scholarship applications are due soon. I am so, so tired.

The most open-minded people are the most close-minded.

No one is who you want them to be.

Except Jesus. Sometimes I think I want Jesus to be a really mean person so that I can complain about Him like I complain about everyone else.

But it’s okay. He doesn’t have to be.

He’s so kind, and gentle. He’s like a sheep to the slaughter. He loves. He was burnt out. But He prayed on Christ.

Anyway. All in all today was a good day.

A family took me to a mall and shared their culture. So, so kind. So thankful.

I’ve got a girl who

.LOOKS AT HORSES ACROSS HER WINDOW
.Knows elvish

.Sews

.MADE me two sweaters that SHE DESIGNED

.Has the wisdom of at least two women, probably more.

LOVES WITH ALL HER HEART.

Even from miles away.

BLESS HER LORD. She’s a good friend.

SHE IS A GIFT.

And I feel weird saying that because it implies she’s mine.

BUT SHE’S YOURS.

Thanks for sharing her, LORD.

Nightengales are rare treasures. Only one exists methinks.

Thank YOU, LORD,

for putting me in Sunny LA, CA. For giving me kind roommates and a blue daisy romper with shoulder pads. And for putting musicians in this world like Velvet Underground. Forgive me for gossiping, complaining, and just in general being a very selfish person. Be with those who love YOU and save those who don’t. LORD, YOU are sunshine. Forgive me for being lazy and putting off my school. Thank you for being a glorious God.

In Christ’s name,

A-men.

Sometimes, it would be nice to:

.Think something that another person didn’t think was random

.Have a tan to hide clogged, pudgy skin

.Have a cat who would never leave me

.Not be told that I’m weird

.Or too southern

.Or too something.

.Accept an arm around me that didn’t make me feel anxious

.Feel close to Jesus every day

.Name a baby Judith

.Forgive

.Forget

.Truly do something for someone else that makes them happy

.Be safe.

.Be accepted.

.Be loved.

.Be free.

.In Jesus.

I miss sitting on the lake with Mrs. Maureen. Her dock pointed out onto the water. If I could choose a new grandmother, I thought, one who was alive, she’d be it. She and Mrs. Sue.

There were globs of sunshine floating on the surface of the water in front of her house. And though no one here in California would probably know how comforting it is to drive a car with windows down listening to classic rock, and getting sunburnt on the dock and swatting away mosquitoes, hearing everyone talk about Jesus, that doesn’t mean I don’t sometimes just long for it.

The beauty and the problem, perhaps, with the particular southern state from which I’ve come is that there is so much history in that land that there’s longing in the trees. Sometimes I’d walk around our house and think about the civil war or people around who died ages before that, probably, on my property. That if not for the grace of God, people could rush around killing people all the time, every day. Even by the old swingset and chicken coop they could kill people. Again, if not for the grace of God.

There isn’t memory, loss, heartbreak, love here. Unless it’s loss of virginity, innocence, originality. It isn’t a noble place, Los Angeles.

Even at home I’m sad sometimes. Just wanting things fixed. People together. People happy. Wanting things that I can’t have. Missing people who I want to miss. Maybe the problem with homeschool life and a small church was that I’m used to friends being people I’ve known for years, and don’t have a lot of people to choose from.

Finally, at the age of twenty-two, it’s getting to the point where I really, truly want a man.

But most of the time, men are people who exhaust rather than inspire. So far in my life, there have been only two, maybe three males who I actually want to be around. The others I really enjoy, but they come too close too quickly, and make me pull away. People shouldn’t flirt with you so fast, you know? It’s like they don’t see you, they just see whatever they project on you. You don’t have time to know and understand each other before they want to unzip.

And that feeling of aloneness is so rich and real and deep.

I’ve just become obsessed with a photo of young Bernie Sanders. His politics scare me sometimes, but his face. I look into that face and see something attractive. Someone familiar and perhaps even beautiful, in a way. A very sort of kind face, yet intellegent. One that I could sit down and talk about books with and he’d understand.

Lord, there are women under your wings who are longing for a man who is not only gentle, who not only cares and loves you, but has a fascinating brain on him.

Please give me such a man. And make me patient as I wait.

I’m homesick, but it’s not for home. It’s for a home.

I saw the sun today! You’d think I’d see it often, since it’s LA. But no. It’s been just slightly too chilly to strip down when it’s out, and most of the time it’s cloudy. It’s like being indoors outside. But I got up early enough to see the sunshine. It was great. And it’s 1.21.19. In the film library. Taking some time to write and catch up with people and sit down and think, too. But the sun is calling.

Just got a job. Hallelujah!!

Yesterday, went on a hike with a church group. Went to different churches on Sunday. Got counseling on Friday night, inadvertently, Christian-like. On Saturday got in another Bible study which was helpful, although it was a cult 1-1 thing. The Lord can use those, too.

Maybe today I’ll be able to play video games. Am working on Friday. Am hoping to glorify the Lord this semester. He’s been giving me so many opportunities, and a lot of encouragement. I feel much lighter than I did last week or the week before, crying to music above the clouds.

The LORD is good. So happy to write. Am in one of those writing moods, but can’t get my soul to focus on something. Or my fingers.

My friend loved the song I texted her. I miss her. She’s so connected with the trees and sunshine.

My family is also texting me. Which is always, always nice. I love them. They love me. God loves us.

There’s love in the air.

Today, I told my roommate, while making coffee, that we’d know when our identities and personalities were finished developing when we stopped worrying about them. After all, do our parents go around saying things like, “Oh my, do you REALLY think I’m an INTP?” or, “Oh, that’s so you! But see, I would never do that, I’m way too boomer!” Perhaps this self-awareness is something that comes with our culture and will never die. Perhaps it won’t. Anyway, I sit here worrying all the time that I’m doing something fake. Why is it that I smile a lot in front of some people and not others? Am I acting? I feel my personality morph to whomever I’ m with. Why? Why? Why? And why do I care? My identity is and should be Christ Jesus. And yet I’m wondering if I appear…eh…well, my perspective is off.

On the plane, on the way back to LA, I listened to “If” by Bread and cried. Right now, albeit confused, I feel pretty happy but not settled. Back at home, there is this feeling of unshakable burden, guilt, confusion. Immediately my brain fogs. I don’t know how to explain it. Home and brain fog are interrelated for me. And yet the emotion is so tangible. I could kiss so many people. Hold so many hands. Wipe so many tears. Cry so many tears. Lie on my bed and read for hours. But not write. Not well. Reading is easier, writing is not.

Coming back to the apartment in LA, I feel lighter. But also lonelier in some way. I can have semi-deep connections, but not the deepest. Listen to me whine! I’m living the dream. But only a few of you know who I am. Maybe some can relate. C. S. Lewis wrote things in first person, and he really did, I swear. Anywho, it’s like a lot more socializing, but also a lot less depth. There isn’t this feeling of emotions so deep you could cut them. It’s like always eating frosting but never cake.

Sometimes I just want to turn to someone who sees the world the same way as me here. There was a lot for of that at home. Sometimes 5 minutes away, sometimes 15.

But anyway, who cares?

Today, we went to the Last Bookstore, and I went to a film festival. It was so much fun. I might use the money I saved on the bike to go ahead and pay to submit to the film festival. But my eyes are blurry now. So happy to get back to reading and dreaming and writing.

So much wondering and wandering. Goodnight.

I didn’t write a prayer to you Lord this day last year. Which surprised me because I was writing more then than I am now. How dissapointed I’ll be when I look back for old prayers a year from now and see weeks and weeks of nothing. Please forgive me.

This time last year was one of the hardest months of my life. I remember sitting down on my bed by the end of January, my daddy in the hospital. Trying to write a research paper the night after they sawed open his chest and cut up his heart. It didn’t make sense, and everything felt white. I guess the heart stuff he went through came after my last grandparent, Grandma, died yesterday a whole year ago. I felt like nothing superficial surrounded me anymore.

My heart ached for the lost dreams of December. Hoping something good would come out of the new year, the new winter. Not expecting it. Watching my dad, dirty because he had back problems and couldn’t really bath, have to roll across the room in his chair. Watching my mom weep a lot, but also show braveness and strength and patience and loved that moved me and deeply surprised me. Watching my brother sit on the floor and strum anxiously on his guitar in-between hospital calls. Hoping my sister wouldn’t absorb the worry. Driving her back and forth to the hospital. Running till I almost threw up because it made me feel in control. Always waiting for my crush to text, knowing he wouldn’t soon. Wondering if he would die overseas with much childish drama behind the wonder. In these eyes, my fears were as legit as a war bride’s, minus the war and the bride part. Remembering how my older brother came home that holiday–was it after his bad breakup–and looking at us all and saying, “You’ve changed. You’re older.” And me feeling like a woman, finally, but also a sad woman. I would look in the mirror and feel pretty with clear skin (finally, and it didn’t last! Alas, it cleared up in California and flared up here) and large golden hoop earrings. But I was scared and angry inside, and that ugliness can’t be hidden by good skin or costume jewelry.

My younger brother and I were taking an E-term (Jan term), and that was the highlight. But how awful I felt when I walked up the cold, icy stairs to Birmingham-Southern, my brother and I parting ways–his first undergraduate E-term, my last. I shook in that class, so anxious, so sad and depressed. Eyes darting back and forth, looking for a friend. Sitting next to my closest friend at the time whom I knew would only be close for a semester. There are those friends who you know will only be close until they’re not. And the “not” is always impending. Most friendships are that way. Especially with boys, and also sometimes girls with a lot of makeup.

Well, this was interrupted with my brother came and sat by me. He used to not admit his emotions, but he’s been whining for a long time how much he will miss me. Now I’m the one who isn’t forthcoming. Didn’t say it as much as him. It’s hard and weird. We are definitely some of best friends. I pray he makes other close friends soon. He sees me as both abandoning him and escaping. One day we will get together and get movies. He said, “I wonder if there will be a time in our life when we won’t click anymore. When we feel uncomfortable or don’t know how to act around each other. Like when we’re forty.” He said this sitting on the floor on the girl’s room, my room, with his bass guitar and speakers and laptop, neither of us wanting to go to bed and say the last goodbye because we won’t see each other again until May, if the Lord wills.

How nice it is to have people to miss and places to miss and animals to miss and to be missed. The times that I selfishly did not feel any of those things were true, I felt so alone. So do most people in the world, probably. But despite the muck that comes with having a family and friendships and places and pets, there’s a pearl in the fodder of it all.

Again, another magical day with my friend. She is one of the few people I know is my friend. Like a real one that’s going to sti k. I have another whom I can’t text a lot too. Every friend in my life has been so different, so unique. I told my mom the other day when she asked if one of my friends might get along with another, that I have a feeling my closest friends would get along if they never met. Because I am often closest to the people who aren’t close to a lot. But I think they’d all get along if that makes sense at all.

I need to tithe. I haven’t done it in so long.

Last year, I remember being at my friend’s house, this same dear wonderful friend who I’m still writing a romance for, and putting a Kool Aid streak in my hair. Huge deal then, the small streak of raspberry hue. I was so afraid of getting in trouble for it at home. It did get comments, but not as bad. To think I’d even worry about that now. The night we got back from my grandma’s funeral, I dyed my hair bright red all over. It looked good but also cartoonish. And I wore my biker jeans and leather coat and political tee, hair down, not realizing how red it was. And that was the class I was angry and nearly broke down to my teacher in the hall telling him no, things weren’t all right. He listened patiently. When I felt home, I felt like the stereotypical rebellious female who colors her hair to gain control of her crazy life.

I cried so much and felt so much. But mostly impending unknown and loss. So much has changed since last January. I’ve been thinking all year it’s been a worse change. But maybe not. Because then I had faith only because I was drowning. But now it’s still here, and the Lord, despite my flaws, has given me the tools and a friend and hope and prayer to feel more fearless than ever before. And so here I go into the world. About to sleep because the plane leaves at 7:30,and I must get to the airport at 5 in the morning. Am scared to start again after adjusting to life back home. Who knows what next year will hold but You. Thanks, Lord.

8.19.19

Today was a beautiful day. And though I still have a little dread about what might come tomorrow or the next day or the next, there’s still no denying that today was beautiful. In fact, the whole week has been beautiful. I don’t mind using the word over and over. Not everything is beautiful, but I haven’t found a better word yet that describes something inherently worth existing. Not sure if that makes sense. Doesn’t matter.

My family helped me move to the new land. I remember the plane ride. Get a pat down in the airport (only one in my family–also the only one had to be screened) because the bobby pins on my waistband set off the alarm. The girl had to pat down my lower body and the men made fun of her as she did it. Oh well. It was funny to me. And the magic of it all! I almost cried waving my cats goodbye and leaving the house. I had cleaned the room in the morning. And my friend and I had the most magical day shopping and getting ready together a day or two before. We got sexy underwear from Walmart to celebrate the change in life! She took me to the doctor to get my blood tested for chicken pox (the guy who drew my blood was really nice! He had to do it twice, though, because we got to talking and were distracted!). We’re writing each other about it, my girl and I. Still have to write a romance for her, too.

In the airport, waiting, my dear friend texted. He doesn’t text much, so it was good to hear from him. We said more meaningful things than we often do. He actually texted back quickly, which is rare. It took him a few days to answer the last one, actually.My brother rolled his eyes when we saw we were messaging. He (friend) said he learned how to play a Kanye song on the piano. He asked if I’d heard it. I downloaded it for the plane. The words, man, are pretty foul, but the song is interesting and now stuck in my head. Am pretty sure there are only seven notes on the piano that were played. Why do I still care to hear from this person when he makes it hard to…I got distracted and am not sure what am writing. So will stop now. Leave it there.

My family overwhelmed me with their love and kindness. They took me all around LA. Griffith, the beaches (Pacific Highway), Santa Monica (even treated my friend!), In and Out Burger…They took me shopping and helped me set up my new apartment. They did so much more than was asked, and rarely if at all did they fuss once the whole week. It was beautiful, the last week with them. They cried a lot. I cried in church today, but have done okay with holding it in. Yesterday was hard. I was by myself all day. But it might get better. The LORD blessed me with a wonderful day today. Tried the metro. Went to a church service. Three, actually. Met a bunch of new people. It really helps. He answered prayers. I hope He continues to bless me like He did today. And that He watches over my dear precious family at home. My heart hurts for the ungratefulness I’ve had. It doesn’t matter–we’re all sinners–but Christ has given us a thick love for each other. And love covers a multitude of sin. Lord, preserve them while I’m away.

I met a man named Maximilian today. His skin was dark and his eyes was yellow and his back was bent. He says he feeds the homeless, went to a tech/community college (hope I didn’t offend him bc I didn’t know where it was!), and his wife died of cancer, he said. He said he has five sisters and because of all the women in his life he was kind of a feminist. He helped me find the bus. “Remember, Maximilian,” he told me as I got on the bus again. I felt bad for being nervous about chatting with this stranger (not too bad, but a tad bad!). Can’t be too friendly, though. But he waited with me til the bus came. That was very nice of him. Lord, bless Maximilian for his kindness. And give him a church home if he doesn’t have one–he says he visits all the churches around. He seemed to love you, too.

I met a man today who is studying for his bar exam and does stand-up comedy on the side. He’s Canadian. I thought he was in high school, but he must be four years older than I!

Met a woman who isn’t anything like her sister although both are Canadian. She went to the same college as much of the congregation and has three kids. Her sister shares my name, but wore a short skirt and seemed a little more standoffish. She warmed up a bit, though.

I saw a girl who looked like someone at BSC.

And another who was tall but beautiful.

Two bus drivers–one who didn’t smile much but was super helpful, the first bus driver. The second who said not a word to me, but smiled warmly. So warmly. I guess it helps being a wide-eyed, confused minority here.

The people said the metro is fantastic, at the church I visited. A beautiful young girl from the Netherlands with a deep tan took me home, her brother in the back seat. She is going to a community college.

A girl from AL picked me up to go to another church. The church looked Greek Orthodox but it was episcopal. She is my age. We split a cookie afterwards and had coffee. Yum.

My new roommate is literally a Godsend. Someone to talk to, finally! She seems very sweet. I pray we continue to get along. It would be horrible sharing an apartment with someone I didn’t get along with! Hoping we all get along.

Called a friend today with Facetime. Got an email from a loved one. Dear, dear, friend.

Called my family. My brother sent me the sneak peek of a song he wrote. I feel so, so loved Lord. Lord, please don’t let me feel lost anymore. Let this be an everlasting light! Please help every day to be this peaceful and exciting. Oh Lord, I need thee, I need thee, every hour I need thee.

But bless those I love. Bless those who love me. Bless those around me, even those who don’t love me. Bless my loved ones and their loved ones. Protect and be with my family–animals, too. Churches. Cause me to be a light here that glorifies you. And to work the very best and the very hardest to GLORIFY YOU. In Christ’s name, a-men.