My days have never been packed so full, but also have I never felt so full of contentment as well.
Lately it feels like all my days are nonstop and my house is merely a place for storing food and crashing for a few hours between days. Typically, as unorganized as I usually am, my schedule falls apart and there's not enough time for enough things; however, necessity has taught me a little discipline and when I'm busy now I just feel like I'm using all the time God gave me.
Yesterday was one of those days. Out the door before 9 for the bus ride to school, I got to my first class early and studied. Then the hour between classes I rehearsed for a skit in theater with a guy whose partner had gone out of town, my rumbling stomach only pacified with a few pretzels. Then, during the mid-class smokers' break in my theater class (what is it about actors and cigarettes, anyways?) this girl in class starts talking to me. Really talking to me.
My housewarming party a few weekends ago entertained many guests, including several people from my theater class who either came messed up or came with their own stuff to get messed up with. One threw up all over the stairs outside of my bedroom. One came piss-drunk with a beer in one hand and enthusiastic hugs for everyone. But when I saw them in class the following Tuesday the girl who threw up gave me a candle and note in apology, and the rest apparently thought the party was a smashing success. Not that they remembered much, but at least what they remembered was good. It left room for me to become friends with them; I have wanted so badly to get to know these talented screwed-up firey theater people, full of wit and glamorous lies. I want to love them and, when they're ready, try and help them get somewhere better with their lives. I want to share this feeling of fullness I have with them instead of this passionate thrashing they live; I see their gifts, their energy, and want something better for them.
Then here I am in class, moments before the smoke break ends, and the girl who threw up on my stairs, this crazy girl with big dreams, starts talking to me. Out of nowhere she talks about this book she's reading, that she feels something is missing, that she's going to start going to church again. I almost choked on my pretzel, feeling the blast of the opportunity, and started trying to gauge where she was spiritually and how God could use me to help her. Of course, the instructor picked up class again and I wanted to scream as attention shifted from this incredible openness.
I asked her to give me a ride home and brought the subject up again - and we talked all the way to my house. And then I invited her inside and we kept talking. I had to resist pinching myself every five minutes just because I couldn't believe what was coming out of her mouth, what was happening. God had been gently loving her and pursuing her since Catholic school, and here this girl is in my house telling me how she believes that God put me in her life to help her change and pursue him back. I had prayed for opportunities to talk to these people but never envisioned anything like this happening on my futon. She left shortly after, with a hug and an expressed desire to talk and hang out more, and I laughed and laughed at the beauty of the drizzly day.
An hour later I had done laundry, washed dishes, and walked to work. After work, I went and played pool with my friends. One of the guys there, when he overheard me screeching "It's like CHRISTMAS!" to one of the girls, came over with a knowing smile and asked "I heard Christmas - does that mean you had a good talk with someone?" I rode home with an ex-roommate and scheduled a time to hangout with her, filling up another jam-packed day for later in the week. I got home and tried to get some of a reading assignment done but gave up shortly before one.
As I pulled off my slush-ridden boots and deadbolted the front door, I felt happy. Curling up under my covers, I felt sleep come over me like a warm blanket. Some nights I have trouble resting, but last night I was treated to a full night's sound sleep after a fulfilling day. When I woke this morning, I was refreshed and ready for the next thing.
This is the kind of sleep I want my classmates to be able to have.
Lately it feels like all my days are nonstop and my house is merely a place for storing food and crashing for a few hours between days. Typically, as unorganized as I usually am, my schedule falls apart and there's not enough time for enough things; however, necessity has taught me a little discipline and when I'm busy now I just feel like I'm using all the time God gave me.
Yesterday was one of those days. Out the door before 9 for the bus ride to school, I got to my first class early and studied. Then the hour between classes I rehearsed for a skit in theater with a guy whose partner had gone out of town, my rumbling stomach only pacified with a few pretzels. Then, during the mid-class smokers' break in my theater class (what is it about actors and cigarettes, anyways?) this girl in class starts talking to me. Really talking to me.
My housewarming party a few weekends ago entertained many guests, including several people from my theater class who either came messed up or came with their own stuff to get messed up with. One threw up all over the stairs outside of my bedroom. One came piss-drunk with a beer in one hand and enthusiastic hugs for everyone. But when I saw them in class the following Tuesday the girl who threw up gave me a candle and note in apology, and the rest apparently thought the party was a smashing success. Not that they remembered much, but at least what they remembered was good. It left room for me to become friends with them; I have wanted so badly to get to know these talented screwed-up firey theater people, full of wit and glamorous lies. I want to love them and, when they're ready, try and help them get somewhere better with their lives. I want to share this feeling of fullness I have with them instead of this passionate thrashing they live; I see their gifts, their energy, and want something better for them.
Then here I am in class, moments before the smoke break ends, and the girl who threw up on my stairs, this crazy girl with big dreams, starts talking to me. Out of nowhere she talks about this book she's reading, that she feels something is missing, that she's going to start going to church again. I almost choked on my pretzel, feeling the blast of the opportunity, and started trying to gauge where she was spiritually and how God could use me to help her. Of course, the instructor picked up class again and I wanted to scream as attention shifted from this incredible openness.
I asked her to give me a ride home and brought the subject up again - and we talked all the way to my house. And then I invited her inside and we kept talking. I had to resist pinching myself every five minutes just because I couldn't believe what was coming out of her mouth, what was happening. God had been gently loving her and pursuing her since Catholic school, and here this girl is in my house telling me how she believes that God put me in her life to help her change and pursue him back. I had prayed for opportunities to talk to these people but never envisioned anything like this happening on my futon. She left shortly after, with a hug and an expressed desire to talk and hang out more, and I laughed and laughed at the beauty of the drizzly day.
An hour later I had done laundry, washed dishes, and walked to work. After work, I went and played pool with my friends. One of the guys there, when he overheard me screeching "It's like CHRISTMAS!" to one of the girls, came over with a knowing smile and asked "I heard Christmas - does that mean you had a good talk with someone?" I rode home with an ex-roommate and scheduled a time to hangout with her, filling up another jam-packed day for later in the week. I got home and tried to get some of a reading assignment done but gave up shortly before one.
As I pulled off my slush-ridden boots and deadbolted the front door, I felt happy. Curling up under my covers, I felt sleep come over me like a warm blanket. Some nights I have trouble resting, but last night I was treated to a full night's sound sleep after a fulfilling day. When I woke this morning, I was refreshed and ready for the next thing.
This is the kind of sleep I want my classmates to be able to have.
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