Remembering

I finished reading through my Senegal blog, and when I got to the part where I drove to Dakar for the last time with Kim and Liz, I was reminded of this November, when we left Fatick to go to Sali.  I was really moody and silent, and Wendy asked what was wrong with me.  I kind of burst out in an obnoxious teenager way, "I hate leaving!"  And no one said anything, because they were all thrilled to move on to the retreat part.

And then at the end, in Dakar, as we left the government official's house and drove through the dark streets to the airport, I was moody again, staring out the window.  Because Wendy is my mentor/friend, she once again asked if I was okay.  Sally jumped in and joked, "She's a zombie!  She needs sleep."

Not so.  I was trying to hide the fact that I was crying.  Because it sucked.  It was such a tease to go back to Senegal for only a week and a half.  I didn't really give that trip its due on here, because it was over so quickly, and then life started up crazy fast here in Peoria.

But I miss Senegal.  Life seems clearer there.  And more adventurous.  I love living overseas, and even though there are a lot of awesome things about living in Peoria, there are a lot of not awesome things too.

I want life to be easy.

Do I really have to go to work again? I'm done with this adult thing.

I feel like I'm on the edge of a spiritual and emotional cliff.  Last night I was really missing old-school Jackson (my Craig 3 sisters), and then this morning I found out that Whitney is getting married this week.  Of course I wasn't invited, and I don't think it's a big wedding, but I doubt I would have been invited anyway. 

So that sucks.  And I haven't really been enjoying my time with God lately.  I just read and pray the bare minimum to let my conscious feel clear.  Though of course that doesn't work, because I think God would rather I not spend time with him than spend fake time with him.

But I read from Revelation today (oh my word I love that book more and more every time I read it), and I felt like God spoke to me through the letter to Ephesus.  Because I'm good at the righteous anger and indignation.  I have a very clear picture of what holiness and church life should look like, and when it's not that way, I get pissed.  But sometimes, often, I let that anger get in the way of loving my spiritual family.  I'm like a fairy--I only feel one emotion at a time.

How to both hate hypocrisy and love Christians, when of course all Christians will be hypocrites at some time, because we are still fallen people struggling toward sanctification?  I don't know.  Something else God needs to change in my heart.  At least now I'm more aware of it and will look for him working.

College at Woodland

When I got back from Senegal, Nick Maclin told me he and the Wineingers wanted to have a college Bible study, and would I lead it?  I immediately said yes, because while I was in college, I mostly hated going to Woodland.  There was no college Sunday School and no college Sunday night activity.  Sure, everyone welcomed me to join groups to which I didn't belong, but it was always awkward and I always dreaded it.

And I don't understand this gaping hole, because no matter the number, college kids are awesome.  They have this desire, and the belief, that they can change the world.  At Woodland, the college group was very much aware of the fact that we were given a lot through the youth group, and we were taught and equipped to take that knowledge and pass it on.  So when our group started planning the Fellowship Weekend, I was so incredibly thrilled to be a part of a group that was learning about God and then putting that knowledge into practice, allowing the youth group to serve Him and have fun together at the same time.

But we caught a lot of flak.  I got all worked up about it this morning, and it really does blow my mind that people are not supporting us, are still pushing us outside certain lines, when we are struggling to survive.  This is the first college group that I can ever remember.  Why are people not throwing themselves at us to help us?  Why are we being knocked down for being too involved or not involved enough?  It drives me nuts, and it genuinely gets me angry.

But.  Oh my word, I love this group of friends.  We decided not to participate in the youth group's Christmas gift exchange, because we didn't want to jump into that drama.  So we finished studying Hosea, and talked about how the undeserving love of God should pour out of us and make an impact on the world.

That led to us deciding to create a different service project every month.  It's going to be a college thing, but with any youth groupers more than welcome to join us.  I don't want people to think we're controlling or whatever, but no way am I going to deny middle and high schoolers the opportunity to serve God and live a Christian life just because some people don't like us intermixing.

And I'm just so glad to be lifted up.  This morning, I was so ready to give up.  I don't know if anyone else (besides two or three people I've talked to) feel the same amount of drama that I do, but man, it sucks.  I feel so much like we're being kicked while we're down, and maybe that is not the case, but it feels like it sometimes.  And my reaction to being kicked is to stay down, or maybe run away.  But not this college group!  I'm so happy that they just jumped into doing something else.

I love Woodland a lot, and when thing get stupid, I become irrationally disappointed.  I want Woodland to be totally awesome, and it hurts me when it's not.  So it was exactly what my heart needed to be encouraged by the awesomeness of the Wineingers, Nick, Emily, the Webers, and Troy.  They are totally awesome, and we've decided that if the face of Christianity will be changed, then our church needs to change, then our college group needs to change, then we as individuals need to change.

I love that.  I'm so thankful that God didn't allow me to sulk for very long.  I'm so thankful that He gave me another group of friends who will inspire and encourage and push me.  God is great.  He will give us opportunities to serve Him if we ask.  I can't wait to see what we learn about Him and His people through college GASS.

UM. THE AWESOMENESS CONTINUES

So after that whole blog thing on Monday, where Ryan read my review and tweeted about it, I emailed her like the fangirl I am.  I have been obsessively checking my work email, fighting this battle of "it probably went to her spam, stop getting your hopes up, YOU ALWAYS GET YOUR HOPES UP" vs "well, she is obviously internet savvy and consistently checks things, so maybe, I mean maybe, oh please oh please?"

AND SHE RESPONDED.  Like, three minutes ago I saw her email, because I cannot keep my emotions to myself.

Let me just copy/paste it here, so that years from now, when I reread my blog, it will be here to cheer me up and renew my fangirl screams.

Hey Tricia,


Thanks for your email! I found your review through my google alerts and like I said, I rarely read reviews but I was so curious by the little excerpt that I had to click through (it was your take on love triangles that piqued my curiosity). I just really loved your review because it felt like you “got” what I was writing — that Mary is selfish and flawed but still strong, the themes, difficult choices, etc. I just can’t explain the thrill I feel when I see a reader connecting to my book like that and it reminded me again how wonderful it is to be a writer and to have readers like you! I also just flat out love it when someone who isn’t a fan of zombies still likes my book (I wasn’t a fan of zombies until a few years ago either).


Thanks so much for brightening my day! I was even more thrilled to find out you were a librarian — very awesome! I do free skype visits with book groups so if you’re ever interested in setting something like that up, please let me know!

Thanks for everything you do to help the next generations find a passion for reading!


Carrie

Yeah.  I so have incentive to build up my book groups now.  A SKYPE CONVERSATION.  I might never recover from this awesomeness.  I AM HAVING A CONVERSATION WITH AN AUTHOR.  This is like, the nerd version of talking to an athlete.  But what am I saying, almost everyone who reads this blog understands my nerdy ways (and probably shares them).

flail flail endless flail

Downs Usually Follow Ups

It is not so much that I am depressed today as it is that yesterday was SO MUCH AWESOME, what with the waking up in a friend's house and then having indirect contact with a famous author.  And then today, I dunno, it was mostly normal (okay, not really, because I got to visit my library friend under the pretext of investigation, and it was really nice) at work.  I was going to visit the Monahans after I got off, but I'm all very insecure, and I didn't know if they would want me dropping in, so I went shopping by myself to finish up some Christmas presents, and then I came home.

I've decided to clean up my Senegal blog, and as I was reading about my adventures almost a year ago, I just....freaked out.  Because I don't know when I'm going overseas again.  I am so freaking attached to Peoria.  It's my comfort.  I have a room, and my parents usually buy my food, and I have friends, and my life has a schedule.

What if I have already become a super big wuss?  Because the idea of going somewhere new with all new people?  Is terrifying.  Sure, it worked out great last time.  But my very dear friend also followed God to another country for a couple months, and it was so not a great experience for her.

I can't move overseas.  People talk to me about marriage, and even though that still feels so ridiculous, part of me thinks being a missionary means giving up boys, or at least giving up certain boys, or certain ideas of boys.  I don't want to find a new culture.  I don't want to learn a new language.  I was self-conscious about my language-acquisition skills before Senegal, and now?  UTTERLY DESTROYED.  People, through joking and serious concern, have made me feel awful and useless when it comes to language.  I can't do it again.  I hate feeling stupid.

What if I don't make friends?  What if I choose the wrong organization?  How am I supposed to go where God wants me to go?  I know He can use me anywhere, but what if one place is really better than another, and I don't choose it?

Ugh.  It's just so stressful trying to live as a missionary, and all I can picture are these couple people who invalidate me, and just, in my head they are waiting for me to fail.  And I'm so scared that I will fail, and they will be right, and everyone who has ever supported me will be disappointed, and probably they will still talk to me and hug me and tell me they love me, but it will be from pity.

Geez.  I am melodramatic.  I hate living alone.  Living with parents feels like living alone.  I want friends.

OMG I AM DYING I AM DYING OF HAPPINESSSSSS

So.  Oh my word.  I can't even collect my thoughts.  But I went to check on my library blog this morning, and noticed an oddly huge spike in views on Saturday, which is when I reviewed Carrie Ryan's book The Forest of Hands and Teeth.  Two people commented, and one person said they found it because Carrie Ryan tweeted that it made her happy.

Um, what?  I didn't really believe it, so I googled Ryan's twitter feed, and scrolled down to December 11th, and this is what I found:

Okay, I rarely read reviews but I clicked on this one for FHT and glad I did. Brightened my day! http://is.gd/iyNr7


OH MY WORD.  CARRIE RYAN READ MY REVIEW OF HER BOOK.  How?  How did she find it?  I don't know!  BUT SHE READ IT AND IT BRIGHTENED HER DAY!

I can't believe it.  I want to die of happiness.  I have, in a very round about way, had a conversation with a brilliant author.  I made a brilliant author happy!  I never in a million years thought that an actual author would read my library blog.  NEVER.  And she did and OH MY WORD.

My heart has not stopped racing for the last hour.  AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

I've Not Slept In Normal Places This Weekend

Gah!  It's just so much fun to live with friends.  I went to Lindsay and Nathan's last night for a party, and it was just so great to help Lindsay make loads of delicious food and talk about life.  Then we all watched American Ninja Warrior (omg the hilarity of its name alone) and ate.  The rest left, and Lindsay and Nathan and I played Coloretto until Nathan went to bed.  Then Lindsay and I stayed up past midnight talking.

My car wouldn't start (Bertha is persnickity about the cold), so I ended up putting my contacts in ketchup bowls, borrowing pajamas, and sleeping on their couch.  Around 6 am something pushed on my stomach, and I jerked up in fear.  It was Forrest, their cat.  She slept on me for the next three hours, and it was just so adorable I didn't care that I couldn't move.

Then Lindsay and I drank coffee and watched the Food Network.  My car started at 10, and thus ended the awesome.

It would be so fun to live with them 24/7.