Flash floods sweep Virginia as the rain pummels lush vegetation. I'm sitting, clean shaven, smooth, tattooed in a dark living room, silent aside from Boston and St.John's and the rain against the bay window. Normally I'd be waiting out the storm on the staff house watching drenched home sick summer campers slosh from the dining hall to their cabin. This week the smell of fresh painted middle school permeates my nostrils as I wander the halls with my photography and movie making students. For all intensive purposes I guess I'm back east for a long haul. I find myself however living more like Hollie Golightly than I may have anticipated... half unpacked boxes from Montana scattereding the house. Unnamed pets at the nature trailer. Current clothes haphazardly mixed with random Tshirts I wore in high school. I have a section in the basement of picture frames, paintings, and wine glasses wrapped in Missoulian headlines and lead photos, a pile of Mary Kay boxes in the living room, a backpack full of outdoor toys in the living room, and we won't discuss the tordado that my bedroom has become... Moving is hard and beautiful. Some mornings I wake up wanting to cry, longing for biking down the river trail, running at Blue Mountain, and breakfast at Food for Thought. Some weekends I desperately long to done that white lace slip, black and white saucy dress, heels, and go dancing. Always, I miss the J school buds, Jane, Dacia... I was right about some things though. Here in this saturated intoxicating Blue Ridge I feel gracefully alive. Around the 'tourt I see my friends, we go to lunch, we reveal our hearts to each other. Back in the bubble (camp) we're on fire for Christ, summer, and any unsuspected moment. It is wild, and healing. Every song I sing, I mean. Every prayer I pray is poignant. New friends hold me accountable with their suprisingly honest questions. Old friends keep me in awe of their strength, courage, and devotedness. You are all in my thoughts and prayers, I hope all yall's summer is shaping up to be just as eye-opening =D
..... yes I am starting to re-embrace southern lingo. And I think it's sooo niiiiiice ;)
Blessed be your name when the sun's shining down on mewhen the world's all as it should be, blessed be your nameblessed be your name on the road marked with sufferingthough there's pain in the offering... blessed be your name.every blessing you pour out I'll turn back to praise.