Where Does It Go?

Time. Inspiration. Priorities. Motivation.

I am looking at the date on my last entry here and really cannot recall what has happened in the last forty days that has kept me from writing here. Upon further inspection, the last time I wrote in my paper journal was the twenty-fourth day of September. So, I shift through pages to figure it all out, to give this exact moment I find myself in some context within the last month or so of my life.

Here's what I've gleaned so far...

September 12th

Friday morning. Mindless chatter from the television screen that does nothing but distract... with the final reluctant click of the power button, my world goes quiet. Save for the hum of our ancient refrigerator.

My well-planned week did not go according to plan and I am disappointed. I am disappointed that I spent two whole days waiting for the telephone serviceman to come and when he finally did, he couldn't even set up or line. Oh, the parallels in life.

I'm just waiting. For what? Who knows and it feels so very much like a who cares, at that. ...Not everything we wait for is foolproof. What if, after all this time, I am waiting for the right job and it bombs What if it seems to good to be true and then leaves me hanging in the imbalance of disappointment and devastation. I feel as though I am in the same place I was just four months ago.

When people ask me now what I have done with my time off, I feel as though I falter, trying to prove that I did not waste my life. And I haven't. I know that, but trying to submit evidence becomes rather difficult. Even now, I find I am lacking confidence and am struggling to believe there is any hope for change for me. In my physical health, in my emotional well-being, and in my sense of purpose. I feel helpless.

September 14

Yesterday was so productive and yet I couldn't hold on to any sense of success or happiness as a result. Nothing could really make me feel any better about the insecurities looming in my heart. No amount of yoga, Southern food, good conversation, friends, or even another classic stable - Mexican food, could comfort the frightened and doubting girl inside of me.

It's amazing that I am not who I was four months ago, and yet, because I struggle so much, I assume I am still just the same. Still questioning my worth. Still wondering if anything is left for me. Still wondering why I have been made to wait.

September 15

Another Monday morning and I am at home. But, I guess this is where I am supposed to be or I wouldn't be here. The air is full of refreshing energy - the effect of Ike's winds having blown over this weekend. This is the feeling I have been craving. The chill of fall whispering it's coming arrival in less than a week. It reminds me of so much, not the least of which is our trip out west from which we returned only two weeks ago. It feels so much further than that.

But sitting here, smelling this weak but delicious cup of coffee, drowning out the noise of life around me (the freeways, the jets, the businesses), I am at least able to take comfort in the beautiful memories. And then it doesn't feel that far.

I am thankful for that trip for a number of reasons. It inspired so much and asked so much of me that isn't often required. I like knowing that I am capable. I like believing in my ability to accomplish. And that the backdrop for all of that is a complete awareness of and recognition of God's power that is so graciously given to me.

September 24

I am sitting in my car, windows open, "Viva La Vida" softly playing on the stereo. It's been a day of spreadsheets and work. I have been at Belmont for three days now, working with Amy on debate stuff. It's amazing how focused my mind gets when I'm in office mode. Sure, I haven't written for nine days, only two of work's fault, but still.

I think my biggest struggle when I get busy like this is staying balanced and centered. And with all that's happening right now, it feels like a recipe for disaster. But it's not. Because I know God upholds me, even when I forget to ask Him to because I so desperately need it.

So the theme, I guess, is that I was in a darker place and wrote about it in private. And then, when I got busy, I didn't have time to think about it all. Partially, the fears and insecurities melted away as my responsibility and my experiences at Belmont in my temporary volunteer role increased. And out of that came a million good things. Meanwhile, I wasn't writing about any of it. But at least I can recall...

Out of that time at Belmont came a wife who was finally excited to talk about her day when her husband came home. A deeper friendship with a woman who is both a friend and mentor. More exposure on a campus that is my second home and very much the place I desire to be. Firsthand encounters with the most historical occasion Belmont has ever been a part of. And a short-term job, or what I'd like to call an "assignment."

And this is the stark reality for me. Is that with one new thing being added to the plate, it seems I tend to drop the plate all together as I reach for that one new thing. I let so much go to the back burner. It goes without saying, that I am tired of doing that. So this is the real test, maybe? My trial by a warm heat source and not a fire, just yet?

I am now a part-time student affairs professional, a wife, a friend, and a child/sister/aunt and add to that a hopeful writer and photographer. And I have, all at once, found myself busy doing everything but writing. And the challenge is in continuing to reflect, whether in private or in this arena. Because it's true, it is absolutely a piece of foundation in my life that when lacking, tends to set the whole thing slightly askew.