1. I’m beginning to understand that I hold on to old wounds so I can feel more righteous than the people who inflicted them. And no matter how wrong they are, and how right I am, I’m the one who ends up bleeding, not them. “Let all bitterness be put away from you,” writes Paul, and so I’m trying to put salve and pressure on the sore spot so it doesn’t turn infected, but it’s hard to be patient and let the thing heal instead of picking at it.
2. Y’all, if you haven’t read Leif Enger’s fine novel Peace Like a River, please do. There is a passage near the end of it that makes my heart ache with longing for heaven, and also to see the book filmed just so I can have a visual for that part. (Also, for some reason I have cast Viggo Mortensen as one of the characters in my imaginary movie. It could work.) I just won a copy of Mr. Enger’s other novel So Brave, Young, and Handsome from The Rabbit Room, and am now looking forward to digging into that one.
3. My friends Michael and Emily just moved back to Indiana and I am kind of bummed about this, although not as bummed as I guess I could be. They’re coming back next month when our mutual friends get married, so I’ll see them soon, but that goodbye is going to be worse, I think. This is a reason to go to Indiana, I guess.
4. On the other hand, a crop of my friends from Austin are coming down here soon, so I guess that’s something good.
5. In two weeks, I’ll have been on Twitter for five years. Also, that may be when the posting frequency on here might have dropped somewhat, so I guess we have my multiple forms of social media to blame. I think, though, that I might celebrate my Twitterversary by finally deleting my Facebook account for good…
6. Also, did y’all know if you go to your settings on the actual Twitter webpage, you can download your personal tweet archive? It’s mildly horrifying, but fascinating at the same time.
7. For example, now-hilarious tweet from New Year’s Eve 2010: “I’ve been back in Houston all of a week, and I’ve already realized: This is not where I am meant to stay, at least for now.” Two and a half years later, here I am. And here I love.
8. The part of my brain occupied by a thirteen-year-old boy is kind of stoked about seeing Pacific Rim.
9. Also, when I used that metaphor the other night, someone brought up the fact that maybe I should make that a ten-year-old boy–thirteen is kind of a strange and confusing age. But so is twenty-eight. So is ten. Of course, I’m having none of the odd nascent thoughts re: identity and sexuality and such that a thirteen-year-old boy would be having, so maybe ten is right after all…
10. I mean, I have thoughts re: identity and sexuality, but those of a twenty-eight-year-old woman, obviously.
11. Also, my voice isn’t changing, except when I get bronchitis, but that’s another story.
12. I tried watching The Walking Dead and realized that that is a show I do not want to watch while alone. Or at least while alone at night.
13. The soundtrack to Tron: Legacy makes me want to get in my car and drive really fast down a freeway, or run through the woods or something equally epic.
14. Sometimes I wish I could move somewhere where no one knows me and adopt an Irish accent and carry on. And then I realize that would get old after about five minutes.
15. This season of So You Think You Can Dance has some especially good dancers, y’all.
16. I have something like four job applications just up in the air, so pray for me, friends.
17. I’ve also decided to wait a little on seminary, mostly because I don’t have any money and I don’t want to go into any more debt than I’m already in. And also because I don’t really want to leave Houston yet…
18. I think I might take some psychology classes, though, and get involved with writing more, and actually doing some ministry kinds of things soon. So we’ll see.
19. I mentioned this on Twitter, but I’ll say it again here: One of the cool things about being in the band at church is all the stuff that happens that no one else notices or gets to hear–tapping feet on the stage to keep time, the knowledge that someone’s worked hard on a technically difficult part and nailed it on Sunday, the people who don’t have a microphone but are singing anyway, the setting up beforehand, the rehearsals, the inner procedural workings and how much we all want to get things right so we’re not a distraction, we just want to lead God’s people in the singing part of worship.
20. I’ve become slightly weirded out by calling what we do “leading worship”, too. Whoever does the liturgy leads worship. Whoever reads the sermon text leads worship. Whoever preaches leads worship. Heck, at our church, whoever serves communion leads worship. It’s all worship; we just lead the musical part.
21. My friends’ wedding is in a month and I’m trying to figure out what the heck to wear to it. It’s at night in a kind of formal venue, but they’re also pretty laid-back people, as are most of our friends. I have some ideas, but I’m not sure if they’ll be too casual. It’s times like this I wish I had a personal stylist.
22. Weird question: What did you wear to your senior prom, assuming that you had one and you went? (I still have my prom dress–strapless, tea-length, fluffy skirt, black with white pin dots. Everyone else wore pastels or jewel colors, I think, and I, true to my emo kid form, wore a rockabilly dress.) (Also, if I could go back and tell my teenage self anything, it would be “Do not go to prom; it’s not worth it.”)
23. Y’all. My community group is the best. If you don’t have folks you can get together with and pray for one another and talk about Jesus together, get you some. It is totally worth it.
24. Sometimes, when God shuts a door, it’s because He just wants you to stay put where you are.
25. This is weird: For some reason, I’m allergic to one brand of almond milk, but not another kind. Huh.