Run Away

London taught me how to run away.

It was so easy to flee from my problems

...in a city where entertainment rules.

Whenever I was frustrated with people or feeling lonely, I could simply walk out the door and have an adventure on my own.

I'd go to a museum, or a show...

Let the tube take me to a new part of town and explore for awhile.

Homework? It didn't really exist.

Experiencing the world WAS my work.

If I were there now...right now...I'd dash out the door and walk down to Westminster Bridge and walk off how I feel...watch people and stare at the changing lights of the London Eye and the Aquarium. Maybe sit and wait for Big Ben to strike Midnight and the lights of Parliament to go out.
Or go to the National Gallery in Trafalgar Square, listen to street performers, and stare at famous paintings...how artists put emotion onto canvas.
I wouldn't just sit in my room and stare at a computer.

Don't get me wrong...I am definitely a small-town country girl at heart and this is where I feel most comfortable.

But right now I really wish the transportation system in small Pella...nay, America, but especially rural areas...didn't suck (and so expensive!). I want an underground train that will take me somewhere for a cheap fare.

To be able to fly away...sweet freedom.

horses?....aha.

rather than stare at a computer screen...to step out my door here means I'm going to be intentional with people. And that's a lot harder than letting a city sweep you away...isn't it.

I miss London. Miss the tastes and smells. Such pride I had in knowing the streets and being able to travel from one end of the city to the other like a local. The sights...the people. I even miss the craziness and crowds right now!! And that's saying something! lol. In my dreams lately I've been walking the streets...that's all...just walking and showing people around. sigh...

Ache

Some days I long to be consumed by creative frenzies....to pour out lyrics and paint giant canvases with loose strokes of a vibrant hues....to be swept up in a tornado of color!

But all I can do is be still and let the wind tug at my hair and stare into space.

Boards of Black

Chalkboards.

They've always held a certain appeal to me.

Especially when the board is clean...crisp pure black.

It begs me to break the silence

...break the uniform boring

...break the expanse of sameness.

I love contrast. 

I love clarity.

Black and White.

I hate blackboards that have a mess of erased chalk smeared in every direction.

...the feel of a stick of chalk in my fingers

...and a "blank slate."

Dangerous.

Exciting.

Tempting.

...because to put that chalk to the board and make a mark

is to create some sort of change.

Power

great responsibility.

What I write could change someone's life.

Words must be chosen with caution.

Their wisdom reflects back to me.

...the fear of starting and failing

...but the fear of never starting at all...much worse.

To never try. Tragedy.

...and how I do long to create change.

The "blank slate"....means so many different things.

Doesn't it?

I walked through Vermeer today on my way through campus and, like many days, my attention was caught by the blackboard in the lobby. Sometimes students use it to draw or write silly things and poems. Today was a simple dark and mysterious three-line poem. Today, more than most, I longed to pick up the chalk and do something with it. But, not knowing what to write...wanting to write a powerful quote of some sort and not having any come to mind...I kept walking. It got me thinking though. Why did the chalkboard appeal to me so?

My education classes lately have me terrified that I'm going to be an awful teacher...if I even find a job in the first place! Doubt. I have been so totally overwhelmed! We've been getting into deeper and deeper stuff. Next fall I'll be student teaching! I'm scared of failing, with so much responsibility in my hands. These precious children and their futures. But I'm stubborn and the thought of not even trying keeps me grounded. I hate the thought of giving up.

God could use a simple chalkboard to remind me what it's all about.

Why I'm pursuing this career.

I want to create.

I want to inspire.

and I want to change the world.

as cliche as that sounds...that's what a teacher essentially does.

Of course...there's far more to it than that.

However,

Thank you Jesus for reminding me of this one simple truth.

and that, when I feel overwhelmed, it's probably because I haven't been resting in You...trusting that You have a plan far bigger than I can imagine right now.

Bundle of Boy

I was rushing down a grocery aisle in WalMart...on a mission to "get it and go"...like usual.
I passed a woman pushing a cart and behind her, taking his time, was who I assumed to be her husband.

He smiled slightly at me as I passed before quickly looking back down in proud admiration at the bundle of boy he held in his arms.

He hugged his sleeping 2-year-old son close to his chest.

Bleach blonde, rosy cheeked, absolutely adorable

...and completely zonked out

...arms hanging limp

Utterly oblivious to the bar code world his parents walked among and too exhausted to walk, he slept on and trusted his father to protect him and carry him wherever.

It is clear that his daddy didn't mind the burden...such love shone in his eyes.

Jesus, I pray I can learn to see examples of your love like this everyday.

Thank you for carrying me through parts of my journey that I cannot walk on my own.

And for walking with me when I can.

For rescuing me and begging for intimacy.

For your love

and your protection

and your grace.

Always

~Merely Mortal