Dealing with people is a funny thing. In the last few months, I've had to tackle some of the most frustrating forms of humanity possible, and goodness knows I'm not exactly the most patient in situations such as these. The least of which being customers who come to the hotel; the men who think they're just so dashing and witty. No, I would not like to give you my number. No I would not like to come to your room for a drink. I'm not sure when exactly deer hunters got the idea that coming in at all hours of the night after hunting all day--dirty, smelly and invariably drunk--is attractive to women.
Not to mention those that I actually know who are giving me grief. You know how you think certain personalities are only contrived in Hollywood? Oh no, they exist. And how. I am almost at the point of giving up on this generation of men. No, maybe therein lies the problem. Guys have lost the ability to mature into men at the age for which it is proper. There are still so many boys out there in men's bodies, without the slightest motivation to live up to their potential. Obviously there are exceptions to this. End rant.

In thinking about all of the things that happened in 2008, I am encouraged to think about what could happen in 2009.
Not that anything particularly wonderful or exciting occurred in '08, but there was so much change. And right now, change is something I crave, almost constantly. I am not unhappy. I don't lock myself up in my room to bemoan all of my misfortunes, because there's nothing to bemoan.
2008 was a year of growing, in so many different ways. Not only did it bring my second semester at LU, and all of the situations I was required to deal with there, but also having to face the fact that I wouldn't be returning in the fall, that I would be moving back home, that I had to go back to a place and situation I'd never thought to be in again.
God has something in store for me, though I haven't the foggiest what it may be. 2009 could be another year of great change, and I'm sure that my learning experiences are in no way even close to being over.

I swear, the longer one goes without blogging, the harder it is to start up again.
I promise to try soon.

Well this puts a new spin on things....

Work, home, church. This is what my life in general is beginning to consist of.

With random trips with friends (from church of course) to go explore caves in the middle of nowhere. That was fun...we got filthy and met some bats.

I just don't know.

My job consists of sitting behind a desk for 8 hours at a time, performing menial tasks that involve checking people in, checking people out, doing laundry, sweeping and mopping, and fighting off the creepers whose eyes wander too much.
The other day, I had a mountain of laundry to do, so I decided to keep a tally of exactly how much it was. The washers and dryers there are monstrous, but of course there were still several load's worth.
Here is the final score:
King Size Sheets - 16
Double Sheets - 37
Hand Towels - 24
Washcloths - 24
Bathmats - 18
Pillowcases - 63
Bath towels- 41
Rags - 104
In 3 1/2 hours, I washed (and soaked the rags in bleach), dried, folded, and neatly put away 327 separate pieces of laundry.
You can't BUY skills like those. I should hire myself out.
I must say, there is some sort of satisfaction in going into the laundry room behind the front desk, seeing dirty stuff everywhere, piled in all of the carts, some on the floor....and then leaving 3 hours later with the shelves all full of neat stacks of clean sheets and towels.
Maybe most people don't find that satisfying, but I've always had an appreciation for organization...even if it doesn't show in the state of my room most of the time.

I found a small thing of pepper spray and a pocketknife in the drawer at the front desk. It gives me a small amount of comfort to know that it's there, even though honestly I have no idea how to use either. Pepper spray seems simple enough--point, spray. But I would probably be endangering myself even more to break the knife out, the assailant would most likely get it away from me in 2.5 seconds and use it to his advantage.
However, with all of the truckers and possible recently-escaped-inmates that seem to frequent the honorable establishment that I work at (and honestly, it's a nice hotel as far as Super 8's go...it's clean and respectable), I feel better knowing that there is a small stash of weaponry within my grasp.

If anyone ever tried to hold the place up though, I wouldn't put up a fight. Is that bad? I would walk to the cash register, empty it into their hands, and call the police after I was very sure my life wasn't in danger. I'm not the heroic, run-and-try-to-get-help kind of person, I guess. Of course, I've never been in that situation, so maybe adrenaline would take over and I'd go all ju-jitsu on his butt.

Besides all of that, my life has progressed into a pleasant sort of busy-ness...the kind I really need. I have time to spend with my family at home, time to get my school work done on the computer, time to go to church and hang with friends, but I also am getting a relatively substantial weekly paycheck. God is probably smiling at the fact that I am having to stop chafing over being here for an indefinite period and just commit to His timing.

Today I took on the huge task of revamping my wall. After coming back from a year away, I decided that the wall on my side of the room wasn't really in my taste anymore. So I took down what seemed like hundreds of magazine pages, pictures, etc. (which doesn't seem too bad until you account for having to try and get particles of stick tack off of the wall...four per picture. My hand isn't working so well.) Now, I have a few framed pictures, and 3 little cork boards with ribbons across them (that I made, and they look darn good if I might add) for the random pictures and such.
I also switched out my bright summer bedset for a yellow fluffy one...probably in wishful thinking that there is going to be cool weather soon. Unfortunately, I don't have pillowcases for my pillows that match the new comforter, so I'm still going with the crazy colors on those.
It looks better...more mature and subdued. The whole "entire wall covered in cool stuff" wasn't working for me anymore.

Bekah

The more I seek You
The more I find You
The more I find You
The more I love You

I want to sit at Your feet
Drink from the cup in Your hand
Lay back against You and breath
Feel Your heart beat

This love is so deep
It's more than I can stand
I melt in Your peace
It's overwhelming

This is a song we sang at LW in 2007, and I really don't know who sings it in "real life". I suppose I could look it up, but I'm currently too lazy to do such, so I'll just leave it as is.
What I love about this song is that it paints such a beautiful picture of finding the Lord, of just resting in His presence and peace, and of having such a kinship with Him that you can just rest against Him and drink from the same cup.
'Tis a welcome thought.

I just finished watching Anne of Avonlea...that and Anne of Green Gables were some of my favorite movies growing up, and watching it this time, I remember why.
I think I want to move to Prince Edward Island...of course things are never quite as they are in the movies, and I'm sure it's a little more populated and modernized these days.
However, I'll just continue to think of it in it's Anne-esque state.

I have been on a domestic kick lately...I'm pretty sure it's mostly in the throes of attempting to keep myself occupied that I start to get handy in the kitchen. Well, not even just in the kitchen. I've been vaccuuming, washing dishes, and cleaning without prior nagging from the motherly unit, and knitting. I never knit unless I'm extremely bored, so there's a clue-in. But I've been keeping the family stocked in tortillas, new batches of Ranch dressing, and even full meals now and then. I wonder if you can grow an herb garden in the fall. I've never looked into it.

After noticing an alarming pattern (starting at about age 5, and never having grown out of it) of making an incredible mess on myself while cooking, I was ambitious enough last year to make myself a pink striped apron...I even bought a pattern for it.

Well, today my domesticity kicked in again, and I decided that I need a new one to switch the other one out with when I'm tired of it, and so broke out the sewing machine and found some blue striped material and made another. This one isn't bib-style, it's just one that ties around the upper waist, which is what needs to be covered, because the counter and stove hit me around the mid stomach, hence where I end up splashed with all manner of foods.
I have also had a long and brutal battle with cocoa. Since I started cooking at a young age, I have not been able to keep cocoa off of myself. I swear, it jumps. Especially when I'm wearing something that I reeealllly don't want to get dirty. The cocoa says to itself, "Hey, look at that nice, pastel colored shirt. Let's ruin it forever."
So, again, the necessity of aprons presented itself.

I applied for a job out at the Super 8 Hotel (or is it a MOtel?) today...not exactly my dream job right now, but if I get it, it will be something to keep me a little more busy than I have been. Basically trying to avoid all-out insanity, I'll work at the front desk all decked out in business-casual glory.

Celine Dion and "My Heart Will Go On" just started playing on my iTunes. Why do I even own this song??

"Whenever anything begins to disintegrate your life with Jesus Christ, turn to Him at once and ask Him to establish rest. Never allow anything to remain which is making the dis-peace. Take every element of disintegration as something to wrestle against, and not to suffer. Say--Lord, prove Thy consciousnes in me, and self-consciousness will go and He will be all in all Beward of allowing self-consciousness to continue because by slow degrees it will awaken self-pity, and self-pity is Satanic."
--Oswald Chambers

I guess I never thought of self-pity as anything particularly sinful. The other day, as I was letting a tear or two of pure self-pity run down my face, I opened My Utmost for His Highest, and the August 20 devotion contained the quote above. Obviously it was something I reallllly need to hear.
"But God, I don't know what to do next!"
Trust Me.
"But God, it's so hard to talk to my friends at school and still be here!"
Trust ME.
"But God, I've been trusting You for so long...I'm tired."
Trust. Me.

Yeah, you'd think I would get it through my thick skull. Any day now.

And currently I'm trying to juggle 4 different conversation on Facebook chat. I hate Facebook chat, but I forget that I'm signed on, and people talk to me. I'm helping 2 of my guy friends out with their girl problems. As if I'm a love guru. I find that guys come to me with their problems...and I'm not so good with the advice. Seriously, I stink at advice. I'm better with sarcasm and such. I should just tell them to become monks and leave it at that.

Trying to be productive is a million times more difficult than being constantly busy.

It's rare that I post within a couple days of the last post, but I really wanted to today.
I think my burst of sudden inspiration may spring from the fact that my bedroom floor is covered in the contents of several boxes that have been lurking in my closet for a while. Inspiration hit to go through and clean out my closet, I successfully demolished the towers of belongings, and now the rubble has yet to be cleared.
This always happens to me...I get on an organizational kick, and then my steam runs out right when everything looks the worst.
It's probably a good thing that I'm not an airplane mechanic or a brain surgeon. God help the world if I was.

I've been compulsively searching for things to fill my time these past several days. After being at Liberty then almost straight to camp, I have grown so accustomed to being always occupied and over-tired that now I really don't know what to do with myself. Hence the empty closet.
My sleeping pattern has also been a little disrupted. I've stayed up until 1-2 AM these past few days, and yet can't seem to sleep in after 8. I force myself to stay in bed because I can, but I might as well get up because there's no sleep involved in that while.
I should start getting up at 6 or something...there's so much more day, so much more peace and quiet to devote to the Lord. Of course, as things are, I don't know what I would do with more hours to the day.
I think this is the problem--having time is a novelty.
Maybe tomorrow I'll join the gym.

This time is different from previous summers...I feel like I left my heart in Maine, even though it's not like I fell in love over the summer or anything. There's just this pervasive thought of "What am I doing here?" that keeps on bugging me. I told my parents that it's not that I mind being home. I love home. I just didn't want to leave Maine.
But, the reality is, no one can be in two places at once.
I don't mind not going back to school. I've dealt with disappointment before, and I can deal with it this time.
The sad thing is what I am most afraid of are the questions.
"Where are you going to school now?"
"Why don't you take out student loans?"
"When are you going to get a job?"
"You're living at home?"
It's absolutely inconceivable that a young woman in the 21st Century might possibly not have a clue what she's doing. It's mind boggling that maybe I'm not interested in climbing the corporate ladder and making millions. It's irrational that I refuse to put myself in tens of thousands of dollars of debt in order to get an education.

What happened to the days when girls stayed at home and learned to embroider, churn butter, and clean between the floorboards until some snazzy gentleman or not-so-snazzy farm boy showed up on their doorstep and said, "Why hello, I like your face. We shall be married tomorrow." And that was that. Simple.

And the world spins madly on.

I suppose it was somewhat naive to think that I would post over the summer. Every year that I go to Living Waters, I overestimate the time that I will have to do the things that I want, and underestimate the complete lack of free time that I will have.
Especially after getting my lifeguard certification, there isn't a spare moment for me during the day, hence the reason I get up at 5:30 AM every day just to get in my time with the Lord. Sometimes even that is lacking though, because after falling into bed exhausted at night, getting up is one of the hardest things I have to do.
And yet, I keep going back. Every day at camp I eat food that is mediocre and unsatisfying, swim in a lake that is too cold, sail in a boat that is leaky, care for children that need more than a little discipline, lay in a bed that is too hard, and take a shower that is too short. Not necessarily in that order.
I think it's the feeling of total acceptance, that I am completely comfortable with everything and everyone there. I'm a wicked dork...I know this about myself, and everyone who knows me really well definitely knows it. I have accepted that I'm never going to be the suave, always composed woman that others are, and that's really ok with me, and I love being at LW where, a) everyone doesn't care how awkward I can be, and b) a lot of the people are the exact same way.
I was never that comfortable at school, so it's a relief to be there again.

Honestly, it's hard to try and start on all of the things that I have learned over the last several weeks. Well, if I'm really being honest, the learning part is still coming.
To spare all the little details, I decided over the summer that I will not be returning to Liberty. Financial reasons mainly, God didn't see fit to provide for my next year on campus. I am still struggling with frustration, with being upset that I was forced to make this decision, and with the confusion as to what I'm supposed to "do with my life" now.

God has a plan. God has a plan. God always has a plan.

Home tomorrow.

God is so good to me.

Tonight we had a meeting of all of the future student leadership for next year. There were probably about a thousand people in the Vines Center, we had a worship session and a lot of prayer for each other. While parts of it were cheesy, like symbolically "passing the torch" and crossing over the floor to your new hall for next year, I was hugely encouraged by it all. Just seeing that many students so committed to leading each other, to praying for each other, and for seeking the Lord's will for their lives was just so great. There's really nothing like being in a room with a thousand other people who have one common goal, and that is to bring glory to God.

The other girls that are going to be Prayer Leaders on my hall next year are very nice, and I look forward to being friends with them and getting closer to them. We all went out for snow cones on Thursday, and it was very fun, we all just kind of told about ourselves and chatted. It's a group of fun girls, and I absolutely love Sarah, my RA this year, who wanted me to be on her hall next year as well. She's the kind of girl that I would love to be friends with, even though she'll be a senior, and I'll just be a sophomore.

I only have to make it through 4 more days here! While I'm incredibly excited for this year to be over, and while I am so ready to get home and then go to camp, I'm sad that it's ending. There's always a twinge of sadness when I see a chapter of my life closing. I know I'll be back, but things next year will be drastically different, and that's ok. Early this year I had a very difficult time dealing with Katy; our personalities clashed at least on my part. However, this semester has been 100% better, and I do regard her to be one of my close friends, however aggravated we can probably get at each other. I'll miss not seeing her as much next year, but it will probably be good for our friendship to not be together 24/7.
But I've started packing, and that always saddens me just a little bit. It always has, and probably always will. Even if I'm glad to be leaving wherever I am, packing just puts me in a somewhat somber mood, and the worst is seeing a room or house so full of memories completely empty.

However, with all of that, God is opening a new chapter of my life! Even though I'm not going to be doing anything drastically new in the next few months, God always has plans that I don't realize. And I'm excited to see what those plans are!

There is that time in every semester that a person realizes they're done. Not done with school, per say, but in their head, they're just...done.

I hit that today.

I want to go home.

1 Thessalonians 2:8
Having so fond an affection for you, we were well pleased to impart to you not only the gospel of God but also our own lives, because you had become very dear to us.

Well, I submitted my application for being a Prayer Leader a few days ago. I'm not on the "approved" list yet, so I wasn't expecting to conduct any interviews until I am. Last night after campus church, Katy had an interview, so as I was walking out of the building and leaving her with her group, my RA, Sarah, from this semester asked me if I was interviewing. I told her that I wasn't approved yet, and she said, "Oh that's ok, you'll get in, just come interview with me right now!" So, in a split-second decision, which I'm really not very good at making, I said that I would. I went and sat down with a group of girls I'd never met before, who were all trying out to be Prayer Leaders on Sarah's hall next year.
Now, I had seen Katy preparing for her interview for several days now. She got an email from the RA of the hall that she wanted to be on, and the RA had told her all of the questions they'd be asking, etc.
But I went into the process cold, like I had no idea what to expect. Which, in retrospect, I think was actually a really good thing. They asked questions like, "Why do you want to be a Prayer Leader?", "What is something that you feel you messed up on this year, and how has God shown himself to be powerful through it?" and "Explain the Gospel, and what it means to you."
Yeah, some pretty loaded questions.
But I think had I been given 2 or 3 days to think about it, my answers would have been so thought out that they could have come off rehearsed. As it was, jumping right into it, my answers could only come from my heart, because I hadn't taken time to polish up my speeches and use creative wording. It was good and simple, and I really do think that I did well.
I'll find out if I made it tomorrow, so I'm a little nervous about that. They have interviewed a lot of girls, and they only need 10 Prayer Leaders for their hall.
But I'm aware that if I don't get this, it is most definitely not the end of the world. In this case, I know that there's nothing I could have done better, and if they don't choose me, it's a pretty strong word from God that He has something else in store for me next year.

It's funny, I've never been asked to explain the Gospel, in the context of what it means to me, in my life. I've led plenty of 7-12 year olds to the Lord, but they've already been given the material from the speakers at camp. I can quote the Romans Road like nobody's business, but what does it mean to me?
Last night, I think my answer went somewhere along these lines:
The gospel, the good news, means to me that when I am at my lowest point, whether it has already happened in my life, or whether it is still to come--when I am at that point, God already knows about it. Christ knew me at the worst time of my life, and He still died for me...this miserable, unfaithful me. So what that gives me is a reason to get up in the morning, a hope for my future, the power to persevere. Because no matter how far I stray, I will always be able to come back to His love, because it never leaves me. And I can't imagine an eternity without that all-encompassing love.

Bekah