Thanksgiving [not turkey day]

Thanksgiving was fun!! Maybe amazing even, considering I was in a new place with no family but new relationships to substitute. I'm always in for meeting new people and having purposeful friendships but it's a hard thing to accomplish, especially the former part while being a nanny. Anyway, I went out of town, north of Spokane to the mountains and woods and lakes and it was my piece of peace. I spent the day with a family and some international students. We did some mild hiking which was more about getting out of the house than getting a good view. Honestly it was damp, the trees were bare, and the fog frozen across the horizon. I did manage to cross my first frozen lake, but it looked more like a pond.

The snow came after Thanksgiving day. Going walking alone out there was probably just short of heaven. I've hardly been in snowy places, particularly apart from cities and suburban sprawls. The snow really does silence everything, and things are more serene. Somehow that quiet feeling of solitude didn't leave me feeling lost or fearful, but perfectly placed. Okay, so now I'm rambling, still inarticulately arguing my point. I wish I had the most amazing camera to express where words cannot, but I left my camera at home. As of late, part of the reason I gallivant without my camera is because I believe in the beauty of nature as it exists, not as my amateur digital camera presents it. Somehow it ruins the whole memory for me.

"For his unfailing love towards those who fear him is as great as the height of the heavens above the earth." Psalm 103:11

That is something I read today that I particularly enjoyed in my current state of mind and emotion. It's nice all of a sudden have a burst of joy, love, comfort, basically a bunch of mushiness, just come up and out towards you when you hardly expect it.


Back up plans in life:
move to Canada
teach ESL in Asia

my next step is into ... .. ..... ..

I'm already walking out onto the water for my future now. I just hope I don't sink. I'm applying to graduate schools for Fall '09 in Speech-Language Pathology.

I reference a biblical story I love like Peter Pan loves Neverland. And coincidentally (or not) the disciple who climbs out of the boat to walk to Jesus across the water is also named Peter. Whether you believe this story literally, figuratively, or even as a folk tale, the message of doing something you can't believe you can do is pertinent to all opinions. It wouldn't matter to me if I were on that boat and everyone else knew that I could walk on water. What would matter, and this is the only thing, is that I believed, even in the slightest, that I could do it. Faith is allowing yourself to have the tiniest speck of hope that what you can't see, understand, or imagine, could be real, could happen.

This yacht illustrates the size of my faith that my purpose in life will work out, and with my efforts I will steer in the direction of my skills and desires. However, my faith in knowing exactly where I should gravitate, each time I need to reposition myself, is not visible in this photo by the naked eye. My faith would actually be the size of an oxygen molecule in the air. And that's on a good day. Most days my faith is like the needle in the haystack, except I'm confident that there is no needle after all.

Those are the thoughts that surface now. I can hardly shake the pictures of rejection letters pouring in next Spring after admissions departments review scores of application packets.
I cannot say that I don't mean to sound pessimistic for I am purposely sitting here sharing my fears in just simply applying to graduate school. Let's save all the worries of relocation, loans, work, etc. for beyond the horizon, somewhere over the rainbow. But even with the fears I'm going to go for it anyway. I'm going to apply for the things I want the most. Cue inspirational symphony music with bold kettle drums pounding and staccato trumpets forging the way.

So if you must take pity on me and want to encourage me, please pray for me. I've talked about these things with professors, family, friends, and nothing has dashed the intrusive, looming doubts. I've had to defend my jobs and education choices as though I was incapable of plotting a course for my life. All of those conversations have in some way benefited me and I appreciate them, but all I need now is God's reassurance that I will not be left with nothing. That there will be a purpose connecting all the dots of my studies and jobs together. That failure or success does not define me, they are only things that happen and pass.