Home is a long way from here

I look at a day off in a completely different light now. Today I woke up late, made coffee, read a few chapters in Matthew, then embarked on a creative endeavor. This starts with popping in the Heima DVD from Sigur Ros, which will literally change your life once you watch it. Or at least make you want to go to Iceland in a bad way. Then it continues with pulling out the pile of clothes Buffalo didn't want to buy from me, and chopping them up into pieces.

I spent the first part of my afternoon making a skirt and a dress out of two shirts that I have, because I've been encouraged to make some new things recently. I've been having such a hard time making the time and space to actually do it the past few weeks, but I've also realized I don't feel complete unless I'm doing something creative. It's a part of who I am, and who God has made me to be. There's something empty about not using the gifts God gave me.

In other news, San Diego Airport is going to start having a non-stop flight to London soon. Why does this matter? Because my apartment, as well as hundreds of other houses and buildings are in the flight path of the airport. We already deal with constant interruption of the planes during the day, and the new jets are supposed to be much louder. Therefore, as a stipulation to having international flights from San Diego, the airport has to provide soundproof doors and windows to everyone in the flight path.

What? Do they know how man doors and windows that is? This part of the city looks like a nicer version of a Tijuana slum hill. It's a hodge-podge of random apartment buildings, alleyways, and houses from every era, all extremely close together.

I only mention this because they started installing new windows in a few of the apartments in my complex. I watched them from my window this morning.

tonight...

I love the conversations that happen in my life.

We talk about racial issues. How religion and sex interact with one another. Eggs.

And also, why do people from other countries sing with an american accent? Lisztomania by Phoenix, case in point. When they talk... strong French accent. When they sing... none? Why is this? Lily Allen and Kate Nash have accents when they sing. I don't get it....

Just some thoughts.

Cabaret? Is that like the wine?

Roommates.

It's one of the things that shapes you the most during college and the single years afterwards.

I have two right now.

We live in a one bedroom apartment a mile from Ocean Beach.

Stef is the cynical realist with a super sweet heart beneath it all.

She's going to law school soon.

Megan is the sports fanatic with blonde hair who's secretly black beneath it all.

She's getting her masters to be a P.E. teacher.

Together the three of us are very different, but this has been my favorite place to call home since moving out. I laugh all the time, I love coming home, and I appreciate them for being good sisters in Christ.

We sleep on the floor in our lovely bedroom. It's like a sleepover every night. And if we happen to all go to bed at the same time, we don't fall asleep for hours because of how much we giggle. I feel sorry for the man that lives next door.

Our little home is full of warm candles, hilarious quotes from Megan, Yoga Booty Ballet and Workout with Bob, movies, back alley finds, and love.

I know I'll always look back on this as one of the most fun times of life, and it reminds me that God has a purpose for everything. This season of life has turned out far different than I expected, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. I'm not sure quite yet where God wants me in the long run, but for right now, I'll enjoy hearing the ocean outside my window.

Zandra isn't drinking water today, She believes going to the bathroom is a waste of time.

Adjustments are the worst part of life. Something changes; sometimes drastic, sometimes small, and then the whole world seems altered. Changes are blessings that wear the disguise of discomfort and awkwardness. It's also interesting to me how we can't wait for things to change at times, then realize afterwards how good we had it before.

God's timing is significant. It is always right, always good, and often very different from ours.

I love that about God.

Life just seems to have a new feel to it that is hard to explain. I went home for Christmas break incredibly worn out and ready for an emotional respite. My home in Vegas is a place of love, craziness, good food, amazing friends, and memories I will remember forever. The fullness of being with friends you cherish and family you adore are more is more than words can express.

I miss it terribly.

At home, God started to work on my heart. He began to chip away all the pain and worry and stress that had built up since the fall. He began to show me my heart is worthwhile, and that life can be completely unexpected. He began to show me that healing can come to even the worst of pains.

And then I got a job. And someone started to make me feel alive again. And then before I knew if I was driving through a blizzard after the most amazing New Years of my life, listening to Regina Spektor with Meg, and knowing it was clear that everything was about to change.

I de-enrolled from Point Loma Nazarene University. I shed a tear or two then went to my favorite local coffee shop. I worked my first paid 40 hour week. I opened myself up to God moving me wherever He sees fit. And I felt cared for, not used or abandoned.

God is good even when I am not. Even when I am tired. And even when I can't see where He's leading me.

I just trust Him.