Rest . . .

It was sunny and I wore pink. God gave me happiness and it was restful. Yeah, some things happened today that were discouraging (like running all over town for a non-existent rally), but mostly it was a day full of little joys.

I ate dinner with Bert and we talked Tom Clancy while Mike and his cohorts tried to sell me . . . let's just say we have an ongoing "street pharmacist" joke. Holly proclaimed her love to me for the 100th time and I listened to Sixpence who I haven’t heard since driving Priya home from WJI (owe, I miss her). Then I went to the YMCA and thoroughly wore myself out! There’s nothing to make you more aware of every natural function of your body than a good workout. It draws me back to the fundamental beauty of life. Then I took Kelly on a date.

I'm really glad I took her out. I love the girl, but it's hard to know what's really happening in her mind and life. I’m afraid we’re not the types to naturally connect. It is in times like these I find the journalist in me coming to my aid. I ask her very strategic questions until I am satisfied that I know enough about her life. Then I feel guilty for not offering information about my life! But, you know, some people just want to be dug into and drawn out. It was nice to really understand where her soul is right now. Why do I always foster emotion before really knowing what a person feels? Why can't I always go strait to the source? I know how to pray for her now.

I did feel like contributing something to the conversation, so I ran through the story of my life in the last 10-15 minutes of our time. Yes, it was that short! Still, it helped me see where I was getting many of the lies I am believing right now. I should sign up for a mentor.

I got a hankering to read Chris’s old, old blog posts tonight. Some of them make me sentimental about the old times. But old times are a blessing from God. In Lewis’ “Out of the Silent Planet,” Ransom had made a good friend of a native of Malacondra (the planet known as “Mars” to us Earthlings). I wish I could remember his name . . . I know I almost cried when he died in the book . . . ok, so maybe I bawled, I don’t remember. All I really remember is that he told Ransom that no experience is complete without a memory of it when it is gone. To try to relive an experience, or make it last forever, ruins and loses the sweetest part of that experience—that part which seals its beauty in our minds and sears its meaning on our hearts forever. So even if the old blog makes me wistful for old times, the sacredness of such times would be shamefully tainted if ever I tried to conjure them up or relive them. God, let me glory in the beautiful thing called memory which “allows us to have roses in winter!” (someone’s quote)

I hope that these next two years hold memories in them that will send a smile to my face and a pang to my heart for the rest of my life.

PS. My mom complimented my news article the other day. Should that have made such a huge difference? Do I still rely on people's praise too much? Man, it was good to hear her say that I "have a way with words." They haven't said that in a long time. I never really believed them because they're my parents, but this time it was just so special to hear.

It's funny how the more you do for the paper, the less you are recognized. I like not being recognized but it's hard to know if your work is really making any difference. Will, Chris, Vieve--you guys have props from me!