Sunday, July 20, 2008

On a distant shore

 It's strange - when I was in high school, during what I thought was my angst period, I sought out solitude by the hour-load. I could lie for hours on the grass reading and journaling, or hole up in my room and just think. Now, going through some real angst-y stuff, I find that I seek out people. I'd rather sit in the companionable comfort of the kitchen while my parents watch Fox news than sit alone typing in the study. So here I am. 

Especially because today has been frustrating (steel yourself for word pictures. I think and feel and live in word pictures). The kind of day when I feel like a little girl learning to tie her shoes, who keeps tangling the knot tighter and tighter and sobs in angry frustration at her parents. The kind of day when I feel like I'm buried in a muddy corner of the Slough of Despond, and all I can do is pray for someone to come and pull me out.

Today, that person was my mom. And she gave me e-zackly what I needed, too, a sort of stand-up-and-look-at-the-sun-shining-above-you kind of talk. 

I also found this quote in a Katherine Paterson book (thanks, Mrs. Morgan!) and it is so perfect I can't say much more about it. 
         
 " . . . I am always carrying about within myself faith and unfaith, obedience and rebellion, trust and fear. When I write with the eyes of hope, it is not my own ability to believe that I am writing about but the biblical affirmation that God is faithful" - A Sense of Wonder

So mercies deserve to be catalogued no matter what the mood-of-the-day. And that, no matter what my feelings tell me, is not hypocritical. 

* The beach was seaweed-y but otherwise very nice. We stayed at the place we've been going since I was little; the first night, my mom and I were walking to the pool and we passed a line of fountains. I commented that I'd always yearned to play in them when I was small. A day or so later, I was returning from said pool, lost in my own thoughts, when I looked up and saw a little boy (4?) and his tiny sister (2?) splashing around in a fountain. I smiled out of delight before I could help myself, and the little boy looked up and grinned really wide and waved (arrow to my heart). I talked to them a few moments ("Our mama's gonna video us!") and watched them from the porch to make sure they didn't drown before their mom got back. I've smiled to myself several times since then, thinking about that pure, joyous, open grin. And vowed that I will let my children play in fountains. 

* Shout-out to my Community people! I *wasted* way too much time reading all your blogs, and enjoyed myself immensely. Yay for blogging connections!

* I get to stay with Lindsay! while her husband is away doing RUF intern stuff. She promises scrapbooking and cooking and that I can sit in their cool round nest chair. I'm super-excited. :)

Song of the Day: "Chicago" - Sufjan Stevens
Yes. Because I make a lot of mistakes in my mind, in my mind. 

You came to take us
To recreate us
We had our mindset
You had to find it

4 comments:

Kim said...

I'm sorry about the angst. I do lack that you put "e-zactly". I remember Anne saying that to Gilbert in Anne's House of Dreams, which I nearly have memorized.

Yes, I do pretend I'm Anne.

Kait said...

Firstlies - You're tutoring now? Wonderful! I have full confidence in your abilities to educate the somewhat dim!

Secondlies - I miss you already from your visit! It brought the calming salve of friendship. I'm facing this fall with much trepidation, and once I cast aside the minor worries and truly understand why, I'll let you know.

Thirdlies - How about that book cart boy this week???? ^.^

Rachel said...

you are beautiful. i don't think i've ever told you that, but every time i see you or i read you i think, "she might be one of the most beautiful people i know."

Rachel said...

and also, i love 'chicago' just because of the line you quoted. its just so poigniant, don't you think?