(no subject)
. . . .
How does one break a five month livejournal hiatus?
It's weird to be updating again. I don't know why I stopped, exactly.
. . . .
I guess it's because most other people stopped? It became stagnant? Maybe.
Maybe I'm updating again because I deleted my facebook and flickr accounts. I did so because I want to be doing, rather than sitting and stewing. I would rather be taking photos than uploading them. I would rather write people letters than write on their walls. But mostly, I need to dedicate my time to different things, especially in regards to the pursuit of building a relationship with the Lord.
I want to do that.
So what has been happening? What has been new? I unpacked all the boxes from this summer and set up my room once again at Devon Way. It was weird. I don't know necessarily if I want to stay here...I don't know if all those things will just sit for a few months and then be packed up again...it is always so uncertain. But that's just how it is, I guess. I shouldn't be complaining.
Break has been better than I thought it would be, actually. My favorite memories so far have always occurred late at night, when my mom and I sit by the fire and prop our feet up and pull out the puffy fluffy blankets and just talk for hours or watch a movie. Sugar Plum, our dog since I was in kindergarten, is present once again, due to the passing of one of our family members, my dear Granddad. The first parting among us, in a way.
I found myself looking at old yearbooks. And remembering a lot of things. Unpacking and repacking one's room is always...not an unpleasant task, but a uncomfortable one. You always stumble upon memorabilia that you would care to forget, which dredge up a flood of seemingly forgotten memories. My basketball trophies. The corduroy purse I wore all the time freshman year. A purple boa that was for spirit days and football games at Mountain View (I don't think I ever used it, but I still can't believe I even have one). A grey heathered Hurley hoodie that reminds me of braces and being in 8th grade. A red leather purse my cousin Craig gave me for Christmas last year that still has the tags on it. Clay art projects from middle school that I don't really want but hold on to anyway. I realize, looking back, how in bondage I was, to everything-- to being cool, being accepted, being liked-- I was miserable for most of middle school and part of high school. I am so glad that I am free from those things, and at SPU, and not in high school anymore. I just didn't really fit in. But that's okay. And I'm glad.
It's neat, to look back and see God's presence in absolutely everything. From the reconciliation between my Grandma and my mom to seeing old pictures of myself and Meliss and the cloudy veil that was steadily creeping over our faces and our hearts. We were going downhill, I think, and the Lord brought us out of that. He did indeed.
Things are good my friends. I don't even know what I mean by that, but there you are.
How does one break a five month livejournal hiatus?
It's weird to be updating again. I don't know why I stopped, exactly.
. . . .
I guess it's because most other people stopped? It became stagnant? Maybe.
Maybe I'm updating again because I deleted my facebook and flickr accounts. I did so because I want to be doing, rather than sitting and stewing. I would rather be taking photos than uploading them. I would rather write people letters than write on their walls. But mostly, I need to dedicate my time to different things, especially in regards to the pursuit of building a relationship with the Lord.
I want to do that.
So what has been happening? What has been new? I unpacked all the boxes from this summer and set up my room once again at Devon Way. It was weird. I don't know necessarily if I want to stay here...I don't know if all those things will just sit for a few months and then be packed up again...it is always so uncertain. But that's just how it is, I guess. I shouldn't be complaining.
Break has been better than I thought it would be, actually. My favorite memories so far have always occurred late at night, when my mom and I sit by the fire and prop our feet up and pull out the puffy fluffy blankets and just talk for hours or watch a movie. Sugar Plum, our dog since I was in kindergarten, is present once again, due to the passing of one of our family members, my dear Granddad. The first parting among us, in a way.
I found myself looking at old yearbooks. And remembering a lot of things. Unpacking and repacking one's room is always...not an unpleasant task, but a uncomfortable one. You always stumble upon memorabilia that you would care to forget, which dredge up a flood of seemingly forgotten memories. My basketball trophies. The corduroy purse I wore all the time freshman year. A purple boa that was for spirit days and football games at Mountain View (I don't think I ever used it, but I still can't believe I even have one). A grey heathered Hurley hoodie that reminds me of braces and being in 8th grade. A red leather purse my cousin Craig gave me for Christmas last year that still has the tags on it. Clay art projects from middle school that I don't really want but hold on to anyway. I realize, looking back, how in bondage I was, to everything-- to being cool, being accepted, being liked-- I was miserable for most of middle school and part of high school. I am so glad that I am free from those things, and at SPU, and not in high school anymore. I just didn't really fit in. But that's okay. And I'm glad.
It's neat, to look back and see God's presence in absolutely everything. From the reconciliation between my Grandma and my mom to seeing old pictures of myself and Meliss and the cloudy veil that was steadily creeping over our faces and our hearts. We were going downhill, I think, and the Lord brought us out of that. He did indeed.
Things are good my friends. I don't even know what I mean by that, but there you are.