An update.

I feel terribly guilty for neglecting this small piece of heaven I call my blog. I don’t mean for you readers – Lord knows how you perceive it – but rather, for me. It’s an escape. A place where anything I write is both untouchable and yet, entirely vulnerable. That’s a wonderful place to be, as far as I’m concerned. I do have great intentions regarding the future of this blog but it seems it gets cast aside in favour of more pressing tasks; namely, midterms, presentations, clinical rotations, and sleep. The phrase “in favour” implies that I actually prefer doing those tasks and I assure you all, that’s simply not the case. Apart from sleep, of course. It’s a doubly awful because if the blog is being ignored, the writing is being ignored. That never feels nice now, does it? I thought I’d catch up anyone who cares on what life has been like for the past few months. If you don’t care, just stop reading now! It’s really just an excuse for me to piece together some sentences and paragraphs. Anything to fill this void. 

September was a lesson in balance. For once in my life, work wasn’t dominating the majority of my spare time. I’ve been working as an Employed Student Nurse and one of the perks is a hefty wage that enables me to work only one shift a week, if that. The practice is invaluable to my education and I’ve learned more on the floor at the hospital, without someone peering over my shoulder, than I’ve learned in two and a half years of clinical placements with supervisors and students galore. What’s the problem, then, you ask? The lot I’ve been dealt this semester is  simple on the surface but it’s been compounded by this new desire of mine to work harder at attaining personal wellness. I wanted to learn to balance school and social excursions with a tad more fitness. So far, so good. I’ve dabbled in the weight room, in pilates and yoga videos, and of course, the ever-faithful dog walks. The elliptical and recumbent bike are my new best friends. Another escape, if you will. My nutrition course has also challenged me to look at what I put into my body and how I meet its needs… If I even meet its needs at all. Which, no surprise, I wasn’t. In case you have never tried to be “healthy” before, I’ll let you in on a little secret: it’s the most time consuming endeavor that exists. When magazines or blogs try to tell you that exercising and eating right doesn’t have to slow you down, they’re full of rubbish. Going to the gym is a commitment and a half for women because you can’t just carry on with your day looking like you stepped out of a sauna. Videos are the remedy I’ve found for busy days and coincidentally, yoga videos are also an excellent remedy for poor concentration or sore neck and back muscles. Or both. Usually both. I am a student after all! As for food, it takes much longer to cut up raw veggies or make salads than it does to grab a piece of bread, slather it in peanut butter, and inhale it like it was the last thing you’d ever eat. Anyway, all of this to say, it takes a lot of time and effort to work off a summer beer belly (which I did, regrettably, manage to incur). It feels much better, though. Not as good as those same magazines and blogs try to tell us because, let’s be honest, pizza and beer feel ten times better… (Good enough to feel better than being healthy but don’t tell anyone I said that!). 

In other news, my 20th birthday has come and gone. I was so spoiled! We’re headed to the Dixie Chicks concert tomorrow night (birthday present from the folks) and then stateside on Sunday so Jesse can finally buy me my birthday Nikes. Mollie bought me four cookbooks plus an adorable vintage apron. By total coincidence, another dear friend bought me a fifth cookbook of *gasp* pies (!!!) and dainty little measuring cups and spoons. I have a baby shower to help put on in a couple weeks and these toys will no doubt come in handy. 

October has been slightly ridiculous but I think I’ll come out alive. The first onslaught of midterms has come and gone and round two will be upon us shortly. This weekend will be the “final hurrah” before sh!t hits the fan. There’s no other way to describe it, so I can’t apologize for the unladylike phrase. It is what it is. I hope to post again tomorrow but truth be told, if real life gets in the way, I’m not entirely too bothered. Family and friends and places and adventures should always come before a laptop. As much as I love this blog, I’ve realized that in the end, it’s really just me, sitting someplace quiet, typing away. Actually living my life is far more exciting than writing about my life. Even though I love writing. So forget what I said about feeling guilty. I don’t feel a morsel of guilt because if it means I’m living and adventuring and endeavoring, then not blogging is just fine with me. 🙂

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I know you know what I’m talking about.

A full sermon… I feel nothing. Long, heartfelt prayer from the pulpit… I feel nothing. Passionate worship – the lifeline I usually cling to… nothing. Just… nothing. A spiritually dry season is one which we all know and dread. When days pass into weeks and weeks pass into months and yet no measure of guilt from the filth around us can bring about change. It’s like a spark spreading like wildfire, consuming every piece of knowledge and understanding in its path. “For unto every one that hath shall be given, and he shall have abundance; but from him that hath not shall be taken away even that which he hath” (Mt. 25:29). A dry season feels endless because even that which you have is being taken. Wisdom and discernment, grace and mercy, love and vitality; they are far from you. What was once there is gone. Just… gone.

Now, sometimes it takes slow and deliberate dedication to break down those brick walls that separate you from God. Other times, it happens in a single flashing moment. A word from an unexpected source. A song on the radio. That still small voice during an early morning walk. Today, for me, it was insane hunger. It was scripture, true instructional scripture, staring me in the face and sinking starvation to go along with it. Who knew a little snippet from Romans could hit the proverbial nail on the head? I didn’t seek necessarily to understand and meditate on the content of what I read, but rather, to simply revel in the fact that He was speaking. To me. Why did I not feel this sooner? Perhaps it takes some time away to realize how the soul craves scripture. It takes times of what we perceive as silence to realize how deeply we rely on Jesus’ soothing words. Today, I didn’t realize how I’d craved to hear my Lord’s voice until He reminded me of what it felt like. Nothing specific, nothing life-changing, nothing prophetic – just His voice. I miss His voice.

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