rejoicing ; the long ride home

my nails are long, shaped, and colored in a french manicure, reminding me of the jam-packed weekend i just experienced and am still processing.

this morning, i feel ultimately ill-prepared.

i did not muster up the motivation to prepare myself for bed, but instead crawled in fully clothed with the day's minimal make-up left on my face. my body wants only to recover from the wonderful emotional and physical overload that was this weekend. recover from the 3 hour journey there and back. my skin wants to rest from self-tanner and scented lotions. my hair wants to be left alone after a weekend of curling, teasing, pinning, spraying, and overall frying. i loved everything about it.

so, my body feels like it was just slammed into the ground by a sumo-wrestler, my eyes are all puffy, and my head aches something vicious. i was not prepared for today. i was not prepared to come into work, clock in, and receive my paycheck. i am not prepared for the last three days of class and the reading i have yet to delve into for the final exam on thursday. my mind is still back in the peidmont, remembering nancy's excitement and pure joy as she prepared to meet her husband at the alter. i am still thinking over those people that i love as my own family, seeing their faces. it is still buzzing over dresses and centerpieces and dance moves. for the first time, i really miss living in raleigh for the summer. the air is thicker there, especially at night. i miss the orchestra of crickets and the smell of honeysuckle. i miss being available for those people that i love.

last night, as i was reluctantly driving back to boone, i was talking to God. it's been a little while since i've just spilled about every little detail. i always feel stupid when i do that, because there is this battle between reverence and intimacy, you know? it rings with the battle between the wisdom of this world and faith like a child. i find it in the battle between seeing myself in a "home" life and seeing myself living a life so out of the ordinary. security vs. adventure. comfort vs. risk.

so i spilled and spilled and told God i felt stupid and that i didn't understand how it could be true that He cares about those tiniest little details of my life, and not just mine,

but every human, across cultures, across time, every single one according to their own human experience historically, culturally, geographically....

how can that be true? in the matter of one chapter, He is so big....

Isaiah 40:15
Surely the nations are like a drop in a bucket;
they are regarded as dust on the scales;
he weighs the islands as though they were fine dust.

and He is so small...

Isaiah 41:13
For I am the LORD, your God,
who takes hold of your right hand
and says to you, Do not fear;
I will help you.

In Isaiah 43, He says even, "I have called you by name, you are mine"






more on all of this later, for sure.
love, sam