Annal 96: Tale from the Depths of an Apple Cider

I really should be studying the role of Raymond Dart in taphonomy and the development of domestication, but why would I want to do that when I could be writing?  My nose, fingers, and feet are in a somewhat frozen state, which means I have a warm blanket over me and a steaming cup of tea at my side.  And I'm watching A Christmas Story by the light of my Christmas tree.  It's the one with the boy who just wants a Red Rider BeeBee Gun for Christmas.  Really, how could those things not mix for the perfect inspiration?

Not that I have anything particularly brilliant to share.  Rather, I have some un-brilliant but very "me" moments to share.  Like yesterday afternoon.  It was snowing all day, resulting in the perfect snow for snowballs and snowmen.  So what did I do?

I built a snowman with Flat Stanley.  Because that is what all cool people spend their snowy, Tuesday afternoons doing.

After this I went to my last Victorian Literature class of the semester.  I bought myself a delicious-looking, hot apple cider during the break, made it back to class, sat down, and before I could even take one sip, I dumped the entire cup on my leg and the floor.  Nothing too serious, just a slightly tender leg and dirty pair of jeans.  Oh, and the loss of whatever remnants of pride I had.  Because nothing humbles you quicker than spilling a hot drink on yourself in front of a room full of people.

But all that is behind me, for a friend is coming over tonight and we shall watch Bridget Jones' Diary... because nothing solves hurt pride like a good Christmas movie... particularly one with Colin Firth...

...in a smashing Christmas sweater!

Such is the life of a Christian single.

Annal 95: Tale from the Welshman

One of my bus drivers is Welsh.  At the start of the semester he seemed to be somewhat cantankerous, but as time has progressed he has quickly become my favourite driver.

During a particularly large dump of snow, he and I discussed road plowing and how that would pertain the following day's municipal elections.  I can tell you he probably did not vote for those who had been running the city, given the fact that there was not a single snow plow in sight.

Today he pretty much made my day.

We are in the midst of another dumping of snow, for which I am incredibly thankful.  We had a warm spell last week and I felt like Rosemary Clooney, Bing Crosby, and the rest of the gang from White Christmas when they get off the train in Vermont only to discover there is no snow.

So I pulled the string to request my stop and got all of my things together.  You know what my favourite Welshman did?  Rather than stopping at my stop, he drove a little further up along the road, smiled into the mirror at me, and we wished each other a good day. 

It might not mean much to others, but it saved me from getting just a little more soaked from the wet rain.  It saved me a little more time that would have been spent outside with my make-up running (because I obviously run into prospective man on my street every day and so feel the need to be constantly made up).

Most of all, it was just nice to know that he wanted to something nice for me.  This is the second time he has done that at my stop during a heavy snowfall.  And it means a lot.

No, this isn't the Frodo bus driver or some young thing I am trying to put the moves on (wow... I think I just made myself sound a lot older there than I really am).  And that is okay by me.  He is an older gentleman, head full of white hair, but someone who tries to have fun and interact with the people on his bus

But it was nice to have someone take the time and notice me.  Every so often, we all need to feel like we're special.  And today my bus driver ensured that I did.

So here's to my favourite Welshman!

Such is the life of a Christian single.

Annal 94: Tale from the Hotbed of Excitement

There is a guy staying at my house.

And it isn't even by dad or one of my brothers.

Pretty exciting, isn't it?

And let me tell you, this guy is pretty fantastic.  He doesn't complain when I want to watch a Christmas movie or work on my Christmas cards.  He drinks coffee with me in the morning and is in absolutely no rush to hurry through it.  He even helped my sister and I decorate our Christmas tree. 

Pretty fantastic, right?

His name is Flat Stanley.

It used to just be Stanley, but then a bulletin board fell on him, completely flattening him.  At first he thought this sucked until he realized he could fit in envelopes and be mailed to other places for adventures.  Or so the story goes.

Apparently my sister and I live in a regular hotbed of thrilling adventure, because when my oldest nephew was given his Flat Stanley to send somewhere, my mother decided it should be to us.

So now the poor guy has to suffer through the excitement that is my life.  He will go to the university with me and the college with my sister, will go on walks with us, drink coffee with me, and possibly visit Candy Cane Lane with us. 

So whenever I start to feel like life is getting to be monotonous, I will just remind myself that I am definitely living on the edge, what with my male houseguest with whom I go on many daring adventures.

Be warned, this will not be the last time you hear of Flat Stanley!

Such is the life of a Christian single.

Annal 93: Tale from the Lost Letters

So if there is one thing you may have learned about me it is that I tend to be a somewhat imaginative creature.  I received further proof of this today.

I am putting up my Christmas tree tomorrow afternoon so I started going through boxes in storage today to get myself organized for the grand occasion.  While searching through these boxes I can across two shoe boxes.  Opening these up revealed a part of teen years that I had almost forgotten.

I discovered numerous pictures of Vince Carter (played for the Toronot Raptors).  One brother had told me that if I married Vince he would let me hang out with him.  The result was everyone I know giving me pictures of the basketball player.  I just shake my head when I remember this phase.

I discovered a picture of Colin Firth that my cousin had sent me.  How I managed to not put it up I don't know :)

I found pictures a friend had drawn for me in grade eleven.  We were taking Math 12 and HATED it (I wrote a short story for Creative Writing 12 about it... and a poem for the same class).  In the picture we were stick people burning our math notes while quoting lines from Lord of the Flies.

Cool, right?

But the best discovery I made?

I kept almost every letter my cousin sent me throughout high school.  So I found this collection of our correspondence that just made me smile.

You see, we were exceptionally cool.  I confessed to you all yesterday my desire to be transported to another world?  Well, I created my own counterpart who existed in another world and she had a similar counterpart.  We drew maps, pictures, and wrote letters from our alternate selves.  And we did this for years.

We also wrote under pen names.  Sometimes I would sent her a letter from Aragorn, and in return would get a letter from Faramir.  Other times it was Fanny Price writing to Elizabeth Bennett.  The majority of envelopes I found rarely had my cousin's name in the return address.

I would love to tell you that I cringe when I think of the silliness of it all.  But I don't.

I think it is fairly safe to say that I have embraced by imaginative side fully.   There's a reason why every time I watch Anne of Green Gables I find that I identify with Anne more and more.

Today I was walking home from the bus stop.  It was quite windy, but I found that if I closed by eyes the wind whipping at my hair and face transported me back to when my sister and I went to Ireland four years ago.  Suddenly I was staring out at the sea while on the Inishowen Peninsula.  Or else I was standing atop the ruins of an old fort.  Or sitting on a boulder overlooking the vast countryside.

So if ever you feel like perhaps you are a little too imaginative for your own good, ask yourself: did you ever write letters from an alternate you who lived in an alternate world?  Did you write letters while pretending to be Emma Woodhouse?  Do you look at pictures of Lurtz, head Uruk-hai and say: "Do you have a name to go along with all of those rippling pectorals?"

If you do, please let me know... I am in need of other Annes out there!

Such is the life of a Christian single.

Annal 92: Tale from my Date with an Orc

Before I go any further I should probably clarify that no date has taken place, nor is likely to take place :D  I am writing this in response to a conversation that took place on my Facebook wall, and seemed to so suit something that would happen to me, that I thought I would share!

First of all, I finished my last assignment today.  I am about two page over what it should be, but the rough copy is done and I am thoroughly enjoying the sweet taste of freedom (or mild freedom... this will be a weekend full of paper editing for me).  The result of this freedom, was a Facebook status that involved my stating a desire for an adventure.  I then pulled from what are probably the three most well-known fantasy series: The Chronicles of Narnia (I said I could handle travelling through a wardrobe), Harry Potter (stated I could also handle a magical train), and The Lord of the Rings (even wouldn't mind being carried off in the arms of orcs).

What resulted from this was several comments: one friend laughed and told me I was lowering my standards if I was okay with orcs, while another told me I really can't be picky.

How many women out there have friends telling them that they really shouldn't be picky about the orcs the go out with?

Yeah, somehow I didn't think there were very many!

So if you happen to see someone who is tall, dark, well-muscled, has bad teeth, is greasy, and has a large white handprint on his forehead, let me know...  apparently I'm up for anything ;)

All jesting aside I do feel like I want an adventure.  School is winding down now, and with most of my assignments out of the way I find myself feeling listless. 

I want to journey through a wardrobe.

I want to hop on a magical train that transports me to a castle.

I want an adventure involving orcs.

Sometimes the desire to experience the things I have only ever read about is overwhelming.  I have tried to convince God that he didn't put me in the wrong time period, but rather the wrong world.  Sometimes the sense that something more is there, just barely beyond my touch, is so real.

I wish my closet led to another world.  But I know it doesn't.

I also know that I am remembering something I have never known, and now, more than ever, is a time when I cling to that.  For now, this life I live will be my adventure, and I shall live it to the fullest that I can.

Such is the life of a Christian single.

Annal 91: Tale from the Fashion Statement

I have engaged in that age-old battle which has plagued those of us in the northern parts of the world since the dawn of time.  It is that war against frost bite.  At this moment in time, judging by the warmth on one of my ears, I am thinking I am only barely winning the fight.  Which means the time has come to get serious.

The time has come where comfort beats out fashion.

I rent a basement suite, and while it has been updated, it is still in a somewhat older home.  I also have no control over the heat in my suite.  The result of this, what with the recent temperature drop, is that I have been very cold.  In truth, I haven't been able to feel my toes since about Friday morning. 

This isn't just the fault of my suite.  The university is also very cold, and I like to sit by the floor to ceiling windows in the cafeteria.  Gorgeous view, nasty drafts.

So I currently have on some very thick Christmas socks that some girls I coached last year gave me, while wearing my moccasin-style slippers, and my feet are propped up on another kitchen chair so a space heater can fit under my legs.  And  I have an afghan around my shoulders.

But that's not that bad an outfit.  You want stunning?  You should see my night apparel.

First of all, I wear fuzzy Christmas socks to bed.  Then you have the long johns and sweat pants, followed by a t-shirt and hoodie, and finished off with a touque.  Although last night it warmed up enough that I could put the touque away and remove the socks... this was kind of exciting for me!

My sister looked at me one night and remarked, "Well, I'm glad you feel complete in God."

Have I gone to the extreme of wearing my touque and long johns outside my front door?  No, and I'm pretty sure everyone in this city is thanking me for it :)

The upside of this cold weather?  Sometimes the bus driver will be one who happens to like you.  If that does occur, he will drive ahead a nice distance from the bus drop, shortening your walk home my about 10-20 metres.  And I get to make potato soup that will surely warm up my insides.  And drink lots of cocoa.  And I get to wear by awesome winter coat the whole time I am at school... and never take it off.

And so the fight against cold is waging.

The battle for my ear has ended.  The war for the rest of my extremities is just beginning.

Such is the life of a Christian single.

Annal 90: Tale from the Remembrall

Poor Neville.

My heart would break for the poor guy throughout the entire Harry Potter series.  And then you have the seen where his grandmother sends him a remembrall because it lets you know if you are forgetting something.  The problem for poor Neville is that he cannot remember what he is supposed to remember!

This was one of the many items to make it into our discussion at Bible study tonight.  We are working our way through the book of Amos, each week focusing on a different chapter and looking at literary patterns, symbolism, repetition, that sort of thing.

Today we looked at chapter 4.  If you ever want to see God being sarcastic, read this chapter.

God is focusing in on the fact that Israel has forgotton Him.  He has done so much for them, He rescued them, provided for them, and gave them an identity, and their failure lies in the fact that they have forgotten.  And so God has to remind them that He is the Sovereign Lord, the Lord God Almighty, the One who formed the mountains.

We then spent the last part of the study asking ourselves "so what?" 

This is where Neville and his remembrall came into play.

Throughout the early part of the Old Testament, any time God did something for His people they would often set up a marker so that generations down the line would remember what He did.

So how can I apply that now?

Like I said in my last post, the last few weeks have been amazing.  I have seen a side of God that I never knew existed and have been left in awe of Him.  I don't want to forget this.

Because I know there will be times when I will despair.  There will be times when I am lonely.  Some times I will feel ugly, unlovable, and undesirable.

And sometimes I will forget.

I will forget that there is One who completes me; that there is One who stirs my soul and reminds me that there is so much more than what I see and know.

And there will be times when life seems to be going so smoothly. 

And I will again forget--this is what happened to the Israelites.

So my question is: how do I remember?  What will be my remembrall?  How can I ensure that I do not forget what God has done for me?  How do I remember, in the times where life seems so low or so high, the One in whom my identity rests?

Such is the life of a Christian single.

Annal 89: Tale from... Hmmm... Good Question...

It's Friday night and I'm not going to lie... I'm a little homesick right now.  Especially because it's the Christmas Tree Light-Up back home and I have to miss it... for about the third year in a row!  It's that small town treat, where almost everyone bundles up, braves the cold, and come out to sing carols and watch as the tree in the centre of town gets its lights turned on.  The downtown stores stay open late, and there is always free hot chocolate or cider, and lots of goodies.  Maybe it sounds dorky, but I love it! 

I also am in a state of full-blown Christmas spirit.  And I just heard from my mom that they put up their tree today.  I am looking forward to going home to a house that is all decorated up for the holidays!

We also got a massive dumping of snow here, so the world is completely white.  I walked to the bus stop this morning and had a breathtaking view of snow covered trees and a dusty pink sky as the sun slowly began to make its grand appearance. 

This last week has been amazing.  I feel as if I have been learning so much and have been amazed at how God has been connected the dots, so to say, for me.  I feel as if I have just been learning so much about Him, and in a different way than I thought possible.  Take yesterday for example.  In the morning I was doing my devotions and finally just said, "God, what does it look like for You to complete me?"  Then I was listening to a podcast last night and Keller mentioned how the more we learn about God, the more we get to know Him, the more like Him we become.  There was my answer.

I used to dread it when people would talk about 'hearing from God' because I never really felt like I could relate to that.  Sure, sometimes I could read my Bible and it seemed as if what I was reading was what I needed to hear, but I just never felt like I had that kind of a relationship with Him.  This semester I have been learning just how much I put God in a box.  He has spoken to me in so many different ways, nature, the Bible, books, podcasts, even BBC movies, and I never imagined that He could do that.  But I'm loving it.  Because I feel as if I am truly getting to know this God that I serve.

So the point of that was to show that this week has been really awesome.  I just felt a little out of it today.  I think part of it has to do with the fact that my mom, youngest sister, and two friends were supposed to come up and visit this weekend but because of the massive amounts of snow were unable to make it.  And I'm okay with that.

It just feels like Christmas.  And I associate Christmas with family.

Anyway, I recognize that this has been somewhat of a bizarre post with no really clear train of thought throughout it, but I needed somewhere to voice what I was feeling and to sort through my thoughts.  So you all get it.... mwa ha ha ha ha (insert maniacal video game laugh).

I suppose this is all just part of life.  We have good times, rough times, and sometimes we just get to wander along a plateau. 

Such is the life of a Christian single.

Annal 88: Tale from the Blustery Day

Yesterday afternoon I decided to get out for a walk.  It was a beautiful day, though not in a typical winter way.  The sky was grey and warmer weather in the  morning had caused some of the snow to melt.  It cooled in the afternoon, so it was icy, snowy, windy, and almost dull in colour.  But it was beautiful.  The whole time I was walking, I kept trying to describe to God how what I was seeing and smelling and feeling seemed to stir me.  All I wanted to do was write, and yet I had no idea of what I wanted to write.  I wanted to write a story, but there was no tale that seemed to be worthy of what my heart wanted to say but could not express.

I have spent the last day trying to figure out what I was feeling.

It was as if I knew something was there, but it was something I recognized only in part.  As if I was only inches from pulling aside the veil and seeing what was on the other side, but was incapable of doing so at the same time.

What bothered me was my inability to describe it, and the fact that I wanted to write but didn't know what.

Tonight my sister and I went to the gym and I was listening to a podcast while working out.  It was a sermon by Timothy Keller, the pastor of Redeemer's Presbyterian Church in New York.  He is being hailed as the C.S. Lewis of our day, and I would definitely suggest that if you get a chance to read his books or listen to him, that you do.  The message I listened to was entitled "The Wounded Spirit," and within the last ten minutes he said something that I could not forget.  Here it is:

"In the Bible the Tree of Life is an image of immortal, eternal life, but also it's an image of irretrievable loss... a longing for something we remember, yet we've never had. In all of the music you go to kind of give yourself a high, you're actually looking for a song that you remember but you've never heard. What you're looking for in love is arms that you remember but you never really had. That's what the Bible's saying, that's what the Tree of Life is, and unless you understand that, that what you're looking for in everything you're looking for is the Tree of Life, you're never going to be wise."
Keller then followed it up with a quotation from Lewis' Mere Christianity.  In his chapter on Hope, Lewis says:

"Most people, if they had really learned to look into their own hearts, would know that they do want, and want acutely, something that cannot be had in this world.  There are all sorts of things in this world that offer to give it to you, but they never quite keep their promise.  The longings which arise in us when we first fall in love, or first think of some foreign country, or first take up some subject that excites us, are longings which no marriage, no travel, no learning, can really satisfy.  I am not now speaking of what would be ordinarily called unsuccessful marriages, or holidays, or learned careers.  I am speaking of the best possible ones.  There was something we grasped at, in that first moment of longing, which just fades away in the reality.  I think everyone knows what I mean.  The wife may be a good wife, and the hotels and scenery may have been excellent, and chemistry may be a very interesting job: but something has evaded us."

I am longing for something I vaguely remember, but never really knew.  And this is why, no matter how complete a moment may be when I am walking, no matter the symphony of the wind as it sings with the leaves, and no matter the ballet performed by countless snowflakes, I feel as if something is missing.  Those moments remind me of a completion that I have never really known.

And they press me toward the completion I desire and know I need.

Such is the life of a Christian single.

Annal 87: Tale from the Snowy Day

I think I have finally figured out how to encourage my more motivated side to appear.

You see, I awoke this morning, pulled up my blinds, looked out my window, and discovered that my entire world had been covered beneath an enchantment of snow.  So I got ready, pulled on my coat, gloves, and fuzzy Christmas socks, and took myself off for a morning stroll.  I must confess that before I had even stepped out of my door I was under the spell woven by so glorious a sight, and am afraid that I shall forever remain captive to such a bewitchment.

As I walked along streets covered in pure, undisturbed snow, I was adorned by flakes, transformed from a university student whose life consists of school and the odd evening out with friends where we watch movies (thrilling, isn't it), to a winter maiden caught up in Snow's dance whose gown seemed to glitter with the light of a thousand crystal flakes.

It was truly a spectacular morning.

And perhaps with that image you can understand why I was able to return home and start working on a paper.  I finished the part I had assigned to myself to complete today, and then began to create homemade Christmas cards while watching Christmas movies from the 1940s and 1950s.  And yet the excitement and creativity from this morning did not dwindle as the day continued on.  Before I knew I was again working on my essay and had all of a sudden finished it... two and a half weeks before it was due. 

All I want to do is smile.  My soul seems to cry out within me and as I watch the trees sway to the wind's song all I long to do is join with it.  I sometimes wonder if perhaps I was meant to be a nymph and then God accidentally made me a human instead :)

But the truth is  I feel so at peace, and it is a peace I have not felt in a very long time.  I have never been more thankful for an imagination that I was today.  Everything about today seemed to carry with it a sense of otherworldliness, or as I would have called it as a teen, a 'sense of the Narnian.'  I was slaying dragons, dancing with trees, and being clothed by snowflakes.

It was truly a day of utter joy, and I hope that by reading this, some of that joy may be imparted to you as well!

Such is the life of a Christian single.

Annal 86: Tale from the Mending

I have been trying to think of how to start this post, and I just don't know how.  There is no creative way to begin, no joke to crack, no humorous story to share.  So I guess all I can do is jump right in.
I have never been surrounded by swarms of men.  Heck, I have never really even been surrounded by a man.  In junior high I had the odd guy who would develop a crush on me, but typically if I was interested in a guy, he was interested in one of my friends.  I just was never one to catch male attention.

My last relationship was almost three years ago.  It was someone I met on eHarmony and we seemed to click right off the bat.  It was long distance, but we were willing to try.  So we began dating and I honestly thought that was it.  I was convinced he was the one.  He seemed to be too.

Then he came up to surprise me one weekend.  After spending that time together, something changed.  By our next visit I knew something was wrong.  Sure enough, he broke up with me.

This weekend I spent some time talking with one of my girlfriends.  We started discussing ways past encounters with guys have shaped our views of future encounters with guys.  And I had a realization.

I am convinced that no man, once he gets to know me and spend time with me, will ever really want to be with me.  He will discover that I am not what he thought I was, or that he is no longer attracted to me, and he will move on.  And I will be left wondering what I did wrong and how I should have been different.

I joke about my quirks because I hope that by honestly getting them out there no guy will ever be surprised when he gets to know me.  Because I am terrified of again not making the cut.

This last week my brother suggested a podcast for me to listen to.  The first few minutes on it are a monologue that he thought sounded like one of my blog entries, so he figured I would get a kick out of.  And I did--it perfectly described single life in the church!  But I listened to the rest of the podcast, and it was all about singleness.  About how getting married doesn't complete you, but how you need to be striving toward completion in Christ.  You don't want two incomplete people getting married in hopes of finding their completion because that is not healthy.

I just got back from my Sunday night where I have an amazing group of women to talk with.  Our prayer times always go long, but tonight it went especially long as each of us put aside masks and became vulnerable with each other.  I wasn't going to mention what I was dealing with, but right toward the end one leader looked at me and said, "Chronicler, what about you?  Do you have any prayer requests?"

So I admitted my fear.  I admitted my hurt.  And in response I found a community of women willing to surround me with their love and their prayers.  I also found a group of women who love me for who I am, oddities and all.

This weekend I got the opportunity to join the girls volleyball team I co-coached last year as they were at a tournament two hours away.  Their new co-coach couldn't make it, so I was able to step in and be with these girls I grew to love so dearly last year.  It was an incredible experience and my voice is still raspy from all of the cheering and shouting.  When I left, I felt like I was leaving behind a tiny piece of my heart.  These girls signed a card thanking me for coming, and one even said, "Ms. Chronicler, thank-you for cheering for us.  We couldn't have done as well as we did without you."  I realized that there was a group of girls who loved and appreciated me for me; who think my personality is great and enjoy being around me.

You have been following my journey as a Christian single, and lately that journey has focused a great deal on who I am in Christ, and on how He has created me the way that I am and that He loves me... for me... 

I think, slowly but surely, that God is bringing me along the road toward completeness in Him.  I can't base my value on what a man thinks of me--I have done this in the past and the result is a lot of hurt and even more fear for the future.  But I think God is showing me that He loves me, and that there are others out there (and not just family and close friends) who love and appreciate me as I am.

I know the fear is still there, and I think some aspect of uncertainty may always remain, or at least take awhile to disappear, but I also know I serve a God who is patient and who, as I strive to know and glorify and love Him, will mend me and bring me to completeness in Him.

Such is the life of a Christian single.

Annal 85: Tale from Emma-ian Contemplations.

Yes, I just created the word Emma-ian.

I just finished introducing a friend to BBC's Emma.  I forgot how much I love that movie.  Watching the bantering that takes place between Emma and Knightley, the way they both hold each other accountable, their comfort and ease with one another, and their ultimate admittal of love causes my heart to jump just a little every time I watch it.  Mainly though I think it is Knightley's admittance of love that always gets me:

"I cannot make speeches.  If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.  But you know what I am."

To know someone so well that such few words should ever have to be spoken...

That being said, I am an incredibly wordy soul, and so should think my life would be quite dull without good conversation.  But it is the idea that I love.  The idea of being completely vulnerable before someone, of being able to admit your inability to describe what you are feeling, but to still say, "But you know what I am" and know that they will understand.

What would that be like?

This makes me think of the times I come before God and start to pour out my heart.  I then have to pause because I cannot seem to find the words to describe the cries bursting from within me, or the aches that set my soul to throbbing.  But I can lift tear-filled eyes to heaven and say "But you know what I am."

And He does.

He knows what I am.

He knows the intricacies of me.

And He loves them.

I find that God is continually amazing me with how He reveals Himself to me.  As I type this I am simply floored at the realization that He used Emma to remind me that He knows me and loves me.  Who else would know that a movie rendition of a classic novel would get my attention in such a way?  Who else knows that one of my deepest longings is to be known, and to be loved despite that knowing?  Since the first time I saw this movie over a year ago, this quotation has stuck with me.  Truth be told, part of it is on the wall across my room from my bed, so that when I wake up every morning I see it.  When I opened my computer tonight I had no intention of writing a post, but found myself doing it anyway.

And that is when it all seemed to come together.

It has been a year in the making, but I think God is finally getting my attention.  He is speaking to that secret signature of my soul.  Because He created that signature.

When talking with others I have no problem reminding them of God's love for them, and I fully believe it.

And yet it seems to take me forever to learn this lesson.

Or perhaps this is God's way of using words to reach me.  He knows that I respond to words, that language and literature and speech are stirrers of my soul.  And so He continually 'tells' me that I am loved.

I have never felt more humbled and more undeserving than I do in this moment.

Such is the life of a Christian single.

Annal 84: Tale from the Halloween Bash

As per usual, I proved my epic coolness last night.  It was Halloween, and my sister, her boyfriend, his cousin, and I all decided to dress up as the a World of Warcraft party (a party simply refers to a group of players who join forces to defeat dungeons or more difficult quests).  My sister was a rogue, her boyfriend a mage, his cousin a warrior, and I was a hunter.

Yes, that would be my sister's map of Middle Earth in the background.

Did we have fun?  Most definitely.  Was it dorky?  Typically things I find fun are!

Alas, today required me to return to the real world.  It is November, which means that within the next 4-5 weeks all of my major papers will be due, not to mention the need to study for finals (I have 6 this semester, when in the past I have only had to worry about 2... blast that taking of first year courses!).  I am also heading into my second set of midterms which begin Friday.  So for the next month I fear I will be dealing with that constant nagging feeling often associated stress.

Which means I may have random days of being a basket case.

Who needs PMS when you can have school instead?

See, some days I lament being single, while other days I think God is just trying to do some poor sucker out there a favour by not saddling him up to me just yet.

To be honest, I don't think I actually get all that bad, but my imagination has been running rampant this week, and my tendency to over-exaggerate is definitely making an appearance.  I find imagination is the key to surviving stress.  So when I feel like I can study factors contributing to mass wasting no longer, I stare at my sister's map and suddenly find myself transported to some other world, a world where I can be brave and beautiful, and where I can help others save the day.

Then I am brought back to reality by a sudden burst of chills accompanying a stuffed nose and sore throat, which remind me that I am stressed, which in turn reminds me that I really should get back to studying.

At which point I will try to imagine that I am not really studying, but am just meeting someone for coffee to discuss important aspects of natural hazards.  And if that someone wants to occupy my entire week by having coffee and discussing these hazards, then by all means, let them do so.

Do you see what I have become?  What dire straits I must go to?

What's a girl to do?

Such is the life of a Christian single.