:: Friday, October 11, 2002 ::

"Here's another speech you wish I'd swallow..." (Fiona Apple)

Turn up the volume... pumping Blur through the earphones in hopes of stifling whatever gnawing discontent I've picked up... How is it possible for me to simultaneously feel like a sellout and like someone with nothing worth selling out? I need to feel beautiful... but who likes a girl whose wardrobe revolves around the little boys' section of Goodwill?
I feel so light, so airy and devoid of substance sometimes, even when my feet are exploring the textures of grass, earth, still-warm pavement. Maybe I am not real. Being me is living in a rich fragrance, sipping life drop by drop and always wondering at the multitude of tastes. I don't understand how other people can exist without marvelling at leaves and minds and air and smiles. Life is enchantment... and maybe I'm the only one who notices.
Next summer. *Sigh*
I miss Africa. It has settled into a deep, dormant place, waiting silently but with growing energy. Just after the month in Kwa-Zulu Natal (July 2001), I doubted the strength of the things awaking in me. However, this last year has only cemented my heartbeat for missions. I miss waking up to the sunrise over the Drakensburg Mountains. I miss the smell of fields burning. I miss the rolling, dusty hills. I miss the food. I miss the rondavels. I miss the angelic harmonies. But most of all, I miss the precious Zulu faces. They helped me learn why God was willing to sacrifice His son. They helped me learn what love is.
I would desperately love to devote my summer to a war-torn orphanage somewhere in the wild yonder. But. I am not getting a clear "yes." Right now, my priorities have to have to have to be focused on finishing school. I really need to take summer classes and continue saving money. So what do I do? Should I stay here at LU, take as many hours as possible, and try to find a good job in town? Should I try for another summer at TSG? Should I go for an apartment somewhere completely different (Dallas, anyone?) and deplete my savings for the sake of independence? I don't know where to start, and the weeks pass too quickly not to wonder.
I hate not knowing where I am. I hate feeling like my identity is at the mercy of each passing breeze. I hate lostness and insecurity and not being able to hear God as the booming, unmistakable voice from Bible cartoons.
Life is enchantment. Life is adventure. Life is damn scary.

Labels: Yore

:: Bethany Bassett - 12:55 AM :: + ::