Literal Chicken Soup for the Ahndy Soul
I'm eating chicken soup because I need it. I'm pretty sick.
It's kinda weird; when I told Ernst that Anna gave me the clap, he
almost believed me. Ehhh... Today was Chelsea and my last
small group; this week we studied the name "The Lord Who Sanctifies
You." We asked a question towards the end of the study about what
sanctification for them, our group members, is going to look like this
summer. When it came time for me to answer, I didn't even think
about my answer, it all just came out. That exactly one year to
the day prior to that, a part of me had died and my life has been a
nightmare for that year. That I've fucked up time and time again,
hurt people that I loved constantly, gone back on things that I
believed, and had been all-around shithead Andy. And that being
sanctified for me looks like this:
This spring, I'm going to enjoy every moment that we have, keep my grades up, finish this damn paper, do well on exams, and play a shitload of video game baseball. This summer, I'm going to watch baseball, go to Chicago, go to the shore, go to Boston, pick vegetables, man a cash register, get a farmer's tan, become a different kind of misanthrope, go to shows, play soccer, and prepare for the school year. This fall, I'm going to get on a plane and go to the University of Nottingham in England, where I'll be with Kat Schaefer, Richard, and Laurence. I'll travel Europe, make my own memories, visit Shannon in Madrid, Kelly in Vienna, Kate in Copenhagen, Tom in Lancaster, and Fotis, Iain and Daragh in Edinburgh. I'll watch Nottingham Forest play football, I'll watch Notts County, the oldest club in England play football, I'll go to the Merseyside Derby and see Liverpool beat Everton, I'll play cricket and be one hell of an off-spinner, and I'll learn rugby union and rugby league inside and out. I'll enjoy my life.
One year on, that part of me is still dead but there's Hope. April 7th is like New Years Day. The year that's passed? Well, not so good. But there's always next year. So stand back, strike up the band, and play me some Auld Lang Syne because this is going to be one hell of a year.
This spring, I'm going to enjoy every moment that we have, keep my grades up, finish this damn paper, do well on exams, and play a shitload of video game baseball. This summer, I'm going to watch baseball, go to Chicago, go to the shore, go to Boston, pick vegetables, man a cash register, get a farmer's tan, become a different kind of misanthrope, go to shows, play soccer, and prepare for the school year. This fall, I'm going to get on a plane and go to the University of Nottingham in England, where I'll be with Kat Schaefer, Richard, and Laurence. I'll travel Europe, make my own memories, visit Shannon in Madrid, Kelly in Vienna, Kate in Copenhagen, Tom in Lancaster, and Fotis, Iain and Daragh in Edinburgh. I'll watch Nottingham Forest play football, I'll watch Notts County, the oldest club in England play football, I'll go to the Merseyside Derby and see Liverpool beat Everton, I'll play cricket and be one hell of an off-spinner, and I'll learn rugby union and rugby league inside and out. I'll enjoy my life.
One year on, that part of me is still dead but there's Hope. April 7th is like New Years Day. The year that's passed? Well, not so good. But there's always next year. So stand back, strike up the band, and play me some Auld Lang Syne because this is going to be one hell of a year.