Time Flies?

Anna's been out of the U.S. for the entire semester with the Guatemala crosscultural. I feel like I haven't seen her in a long time, and I can't wait for her to return home. Yet, when I hear about the Middle East Cross Cultural, and that they are coming back in a week--the same thing, I barely think they have been gone at all. This may or may not have anything to do with the fact that I'm not emotionally close to anyone on that Cross Cultural, whereas I am close to Anna, Stacy, and somewhat to several others that are on the trip. So I guess that the time flies for those you don't think about.

Same thought, different people. There are several YES teams--Albania and Venezuela, I think--that are finishing up at the end of April. In fact, they will be debriefing with me when I enter training. Their time has flown. All of a sudden, the end of the semester is a week and a half away, and there is so much to show for it, but there is so much that is still shifting--still insecure--and I am shifting and insecure as well.
I think what I'm referring to are the different things going on this summer, and where I'm going to be with all of these, and if they are going to work out. One thought--I'm going to New York, and I'm over halfway funded. I know when I'm going into training, and I know when I'm arriving in New York, but I only have a little of an idea of what I will be doing. Also, I'm signed up to earn service learning credit hours for the three months I will be there.

The issue there is that I've been in communication with the woman in charge for almost the entire semester, and I feel like everything has been moving at snail speed, and I wish it was all clarified, and I knew which professor would be my mentor, and what type of reading I should be pursuing to satisfy that portion of the contract.
I've finally made a decision about my major, which makes life take a completely different path. I'm excited about this because suddenly there is a defined path with a street named "Grace --->" and I know which way to turn. I know that there is passion in this area. I know this because I could do these things for no money and be satisfied--I'm doing it now, paying for it.  This is like music for me. People are my other music, they challenge me to do different things, to try harder keys and progressions, and write different words. This is why I want to train in the field of Social Work. And I know this time is going to fly as well. Soon all of these classes are going to be satisfied, and I'm going to be shipped back to Washington D.C. for my senior practicum, and then onward, to another city, to do what God has glistened my life with. Love others.

We watched "The Count of Monte Cristo" after we got home from the game. I remember reading through the book--same title-- by Alexander Dumas, in eighth grade, and showing Casey the name of the author for his own entertainment. I remember reading it and loving it, though the Count chooses revenge--even over love and those begging for forgiveness. But while watching the movie, I also recalled how long it had been since I'd read the book. Five long years. Years of change, growth, Maturity. It's time to read "the Count" again.
It's interesting to me how we can become so enveloped into things we are interested in. They take our minds--imaginations-- and run with them, skipping through ideas, and dreams. The shiny facade of movies do that exactly. They stimulate our brains--but only to what we can follow within the story.
I'm a commenter. I think of things in the storyline that I find interesting, or funny, or relevant to something that it reminds me of, and I make it known. And I'm more likely to do it with someone that I know well. I've been reminded of this by Zach, and before, I actually wasn't aware that I was a commenter. It's something Dad does too--whenever he and Mom attend a church service that they are not involved in, he sits next to her, and during the sermon, he whispers his comments into her ear. It drives my mom crazy. So it's completely insane that I didn't know that I did this--unless it doesn't annoy Zach. Which I probably will end up asking him.. But I became aware of this tonight, while we were watching the movie, because Jess was sitting next to me, and she said, "Grace, if you whisper in my ear one more time.." Oops. Didn't mean to annoy you.  In relevance to what I've been talking about, this movie flew by, and before we knew it, it was ten to one, and I was still wide awake (probably due to the slight amount of mystery coffee that I added to my hot soy cocoa before I joined the movie clan).
Something to think about. I don't like wasting things, and of all of these, I hate wasting time. That being said, I hate the idea of missing out on things that are happening. For example, this summer, I'm not going to be able to work at Camp Luz. I'm not going to meet the new campers, whether Mini or Youth, or work with the new staff, and become a better facilitator. I'm going to miss it a lot, and miss the trusting deep friendships that occur only in that type of situation. But I also know that my time is not going to be wasted, and before I know it, I'm going to be leaving a new set of friends behind in NYC to come back to EMU, and stability and love. All of these things that I will also be leaving behind in NYC, and in D.C., and in Wauseon, and in Streetsboro. And eventually, EMU will be left behind. This too shall pass.
This time. And I don't want to waste it. Which brings me to my next point.
I see how some people are in need of a fix-a drug to make them open, or happy, or easy-to make their life worth living. But I don't--I can't stand the idea of being so wasted that you can't remember what happened. I can't stand the idea of spending so much money on drinks that you can't pay for the taxi home. I can't imagine being so drunk that you can't stand up straight or see where you are going. I've experienced fun with people--insane laughter, slap happy moments, and sleepless nights. And I remember them. Because I wanted to. And if these things are meant to happen, they will, and for me, I will try to make them remembered, because I don't want to have to worry that I'll ever do something I will regret.
I feel as if when I reach the age of twenty one, I will drink alcohol. But I will only do so if it is something I can enjoy. I hope that it will not become something social and something that I do to show how adventurous I am (this could be a weakness). I hope that I drink because I like the taste, and not for a buzz and a feeling. I hope that money I spend will be in moderation, as will the amount I consume.
I want to remember all that I've done and all that I've experienced. Time not remembered is time wasted, no matter what anyone tries to say.

I haven't stayed up this late, or this awake in a long time. I can finally say that I'm done with whatever illness ailed me, and that I am rather blessed to be filled with energy to do things with people. That time where I couldn't do anything because I was so tired was rather deteriorating to my mental state, and now I feel beautiful and happy, and I am really content. And now, I am going to church tomorrow. Thus I should sleep for a part of that, es verdad?

God truly opens your eyes, ears, and thoughts.

I was praying tonight. It's something that I do every night, as I know that tomorrow is indecisive as it is, and I don't know what circumstances could change in the night. I know that one day could go by and everything change. So I give it to God. Every single night. Tonight I was discerning about my future. It's such a touchy subject, because everything can change with the flip of a card, the ring of a phone, or a ring. But it's not that I worry about that, it's that I really have no idea what on earth I am going to do this summer. I thought I knew. I thought that was the one thing that I had figured out. Then I realized that the one thing I had figured out was the fact that I'm going to DC on Sunday. That's it. I realized that I am starting to plan things for myself again, even though I had no intentions to. I was planning on working at Camp. It's my default. For a little while I went off on a whim and thought about working at a sign shop in Lancaster with some people that are related to some other people that I used to go to the same church with (Mennonite connections). But it was just a whim, and with some convincing from a good friend, I was back on the Camp track. And it was then when it came back up, today actually, that I realized that I needed to rethink the entire idea of doing Camp. What if that was what I wanted, and not what God wanted? What if I was just going with the flow--the routine of my life this far?
I'm a rather rebellious person, though I don't like to talk about it, and often rationalize these things as to being normal. Because it is normal to be a Mennonite pastor's kid and get your tongue pierced. And it's normal to be an Honors student at a high school, but give up being around your high school friends to go to a local university and be a junior in college before you graduate high school.  And it really is normal to go to college with one major in mind, but change your mind a week in. But it isn't normal to finish the semester with those classes, despite the fact that you are not planning to use them in any way, shape, or form. Despite what others say, you have already filled your general education slip for that spot, and though you don't like to think about it, it was kind of a waste of money. (the good part is that you learned from it, you know a little bit more about science than you did, and discovered Chemistry wasn't that bad. And of course, the experience of knowing that it isn't something that you want to do.) It is normal to be completely in love with someone--you have a long distance relationship--but for them to be in Africa, and not heard your voice in nearly a month.  And lastly, it's normal to go on a cross cultural your first year. But the people who know you also know that you were thinking about quitting college and going to do work in the mission field, but this option seemed like a good transition point, considering you didn't know what you wanted to major in, and finishing school as quick as possible was the original plan (didn't get those 60 credits for nothing), but now you have nothing to work from.
This might be a phase that I'm going through. Maybe I just want to be different from people. Maybe it's a psychological uniqueness, where I have to be different from people. I have to make my music, and hope they listen to the words so that they truly hear what's going on in my head. I have to dance around the point I want to say, because it's hard for me to be completely assertive with people who intimidate me. But either way, maybe my rebellion is making me distance people from me.
This isn't even about my "rebellion". I'm not rebelling to make a point to someone, or anyone. I'm not doing it for any ideals, although my vigorous-high-staked-almost-perfectionism could have something to do with that. Within that case, I've always had high standards for myself, being grades in school, and being better, doing things on purpose.
I've discovered, that though I have this attitude at the beginning, it becomes genuine very quickly. It's like high standards are my front that wear, and me being a nut this makes me define myself by my standards. This is so unrealistic, even though people define me by my standards, it's actually just a front I wear. (Which finally gets me to my point)
I don't care about grades. I don't care about academics. I can't care if I'm better than a person, because everyone has relative standards anyway.
What a rabbit trail.
What I have been getting to:
I was praying. Praying that God would show me what path I should take. What I should do this summer. and then after that I'm not worried about. What I know is that God wants me to do something--I don't know what yet-- with people. Seems easy.
I started to be aware of this. That people, and relationships were more important than school work to me, so much to the point that I was disappointed that there was no one to hang out with and I had to go study. The relationships I built at EMU weren't all deep. For me, I'm happy with just talking to someone that I wonder about, or having a quick, but interesting and funny conversation for twenty feet (of walking, in case you didn't catch my drift). I flit from conversation to conversation. It's just how I am. I can stay in the cafeteria for hours, just because there are new people to talk to, be funny with and catch up. I just want to know what's going on in their lives. Anyone really. It tickles me pink to know what makes a person happier than anything, or excited, or to know something significant about their lives that makes them different in what they do and why they do it, than anyone else. I thrive in relationships. And where some people benefit from a few deep friendships, I benefit from being deep with everyone! As you can imagine, even with my truly (almost one hundred percent, it seems) extroverted self, this passion takes a wear on me. Towards the end of the semester, when I was getting amazing amounts of work done, but also when so many people were finally opening up to me and I to them, I was so exhausted, and so unmotivated. I could keep going and keep going, but I had to force myself to do things that my body needed. Like exercise and sleep (I didn't have a problem making it to the cafeteria--that's where all the people were). When I got home, I was tired three hours after waking up in the morning, and I was getting headaches (though I'm pretty sure that had to do with dehydration). Now break is closing, and I'm heading in the direction of DC. A place where the communication will never stop, and I have less work than I did this semester. Either way. I know that right now, God is calling me to a place of work with people. Obviously--he stuck me in a high school. I have no idea where this is getting me. As of right now, I know I'm too impatient to go anywhere for more than a year-year and a half more of classes.  So here I am trusting. As of now, the answer that I received may not even be for this summer, and maybe this summer will be another one of my weird mood swings (like WCSC was) and then I will have become obligated, but I will enjoy it nonetheless. Thus, whatever it is, I trust God.

That's what I have been doing all this time. But what? I still don't know yet. Sorry. It's an open-ended story as of now.
Nothing seems right yet. And I know if I wait too long, opportunities will close. But others will open. This I know, this I am calm with. God is my God, I trust Him. I know that the future is complicated. But this isn't my first rodeo, life is complicated.
As for my options right now, I'm still thinking about Camp Luz. But if something else kicks me in the rear I will not ignore it. I sort of feel like I have a calling to work in inner-city missions, and I feel like DC will either make or break that. But I have spent time in Harrisburg, and I am totally willing to assimilate to anything with people who are willing to listen.
This is where I am.
Sorry if you are confuzzled.