I missed blogging this past week. It’s good to see the empty posting screen again, and tap out words that wrap around my thoughts again. But my thoughts are so scattered I feel they might scare you away. It’s hard to describe how these last two weeks have been “the best of times…[and]…the worst of times.” With God, with people. Overall. Hard doesn’t always mean bad, and good doesn’t always mean happy, though I’ve had my happy moments in undeservedly large amounts as well. Late nights, long laughs, and honest conversations. Being crazy busy means, at least, that I don’t feel I’ll die from lack of people.
Have I mentioned lately how much I love the people? But I’m coming up on what I know will be my last chance with many of them, and that scares me because they need God. But I’m so messed up and screwed up there’s now way they’ll see Him in me apart from His grace. Coming unglued has it’s benefits- all glory to God and none to me. And have these last three years made a difference? Has He been able to use me at all? Looking at a sharpied note from three years ago from the girl who now smokes in the school parking lot I’m tempted to doubt. But then, it’s not about me anyways. But, but…I still care. I want her to find God and His love, the only one that’s truly fulfilling.
It’s been a good summer filled with fun. I don’t know if I’m ready for it to end. Scratch that, I know I’m not. But underneath the fun has been wrestling, and long struggles in the dark. It’s good to feel again, but that doesn’t mean the hard times are over. All the answers never come. So I keep fighting even though it’s not easy, and even when it feels like the hard things will never end. But these past two weeks maybe I’ve felt less like I’m alone; less separated from God and people. And that, at least, is good.