Musings

It’s funny how shame suddenly appears when we least expect it.

It’s strange to come home when you divide your time between places. 

Yesterday, I returned home from the city. Falling in love with Chicago, I feel a strange compartmentalization in my heart that I’m trying to work through and process. You see, I’m in love with the Northwoods, too, which is a completely different everything: isolation, quiet, crickets, birds, bears, trees, the stars, my church, lakes, family. Contrast that with: friends, the noise, campus, vibrancy, concrete, mazes of streets and buses and trains. I refuse to use to term “my other life,” because it is all, by God’ grace, part of mine.

Somehow, I fit in well in both places. Somehow, the complexity of my personality has adapted to both. Somehow, I can love both. I am still myself; yet, I do feel an odd sense of division. Can

Tonight is the last night before my closest friends and I begin to separate for the summer. The first, Kyle, leaves tomorrow morning.

I feel this odd sense of bittersweetness. I have never experienced a community like this where one can grow to love people so deeply after knowing them for such a short time. God is alive in the people here, and he has challenged me, tested me, and taught me so much. My chest hurts with how much I care for my brothers and sisters here on campus, and I can’t imagine being separated from them.

As I watch the seniors walk on Saturday, I know I will think about this fall when their empty seats will be filled by the next crowd, faces unknown to me. As people disappear from my life, I will no

It’s funny how one thing can suddenly change your entire attitude, and you don’t even know why.

Yesterday was wicked sweet–party in the campus plaza, comedy show with friends, pranking, being able to say I can longboard now, and late-night junk-food-filled conversations with brothers in the plaza until past curfew.

Today was honestly good. Church was great. Studying a little for finals was great. Calling my mom was great. Hanging out with friends and getting soaked to the skin while attempting to walk to BOGO at Chipotle was great. I loved it.

Then I got back. 

I don’t know, it was weird. All of sudden, I was delivering a burrito bowl to a friend at work and she goes, “Are you okay? Something’s up.” I was spacey, not

I completed the last day of class today. Besides two finals next week, it’s done. Whoa.

I’m experiencing the oddest mix of emotions–happy for the summer, excitement that I’m moving on to another year of school, bittersweet about brothers and sisters who aren’t coming back to campus, frustration at the rate time is passing. I’ve been pretty open about this, and most others I talk to are feeling the same way. I want so badly to treasure these last days, and today was no exception.

So, I lived it up.

I went out with friends to get homemade sodas from a hole-in-the-wall to celebrate turning in our last paper, took fun photos around campus, learned to longboard from a friend this afternoon and subsequently went out late tonight to hit the streets with

What comes out of my mouth freaks me out. A lot.

“When Peace like a river attendeth my way…”

Everyone has a mask. You know what I’m talking about.

The plastered smile we stick on when we’ve having the worst day but we don’t want to say anything. The bright face we glue on haphazardly when we’re deeply struggling with sin and worry and fear, but we want to remain “good Christians” in the eyes of our peers. The persona we slip into subconsciously in order to avoid dealing with our pain, shame, and problems.

When we want to be someone else. When we manufacture someone else and zip ourselves into them. When we cycle through endless “someone elses” because we are avoiding our deepest regrets and

Uncomfortable. Nobody wants to feel that.