Oh What A Day

After not writing a single post in nearly a month, I wrote "One Day" this morning. Just hours later, I am sitting down to write again. This is a story that simply must be documented. Perhaps it will be a once in a lifetime experience.

Because I had a fever last night, Hope and I decided it would be best if I didn't go to work today and infect Emi. My fever turned out to be a blessing in disguise since otherwise I might still be sitting on the side of the road somewhere in Pennsylvania.

I was supposed to work at Hair Cuttery in the afternoon, but since I was feeling better, I decided to run a few errands before heading to work. On my way to Towson, a little yellow light popped up on my dashboard. I looked it up: "Transaxle/cooling system." I ran my errand, and then headed to a gas/service station to get help pouring some sort of liquid into my car to fix it up. I never made it; another light popped on too, and I drifted to a stop on the beltway, I looked up at the clouds and thanked God that at least it wasn't raining. A couple of phone calls and texts later, and Carrie was on her way to pick me up. It is definitely a weird feeling, sitting in the grass on the side of the road, completely helpless, while cars fly by at 75 miles an hour.

A man stopped to see if I needed help, but when he heard my problem he wished me luck and went on his way while a police flew right on down the highway without a second glance in my direction. A towe truck arrived on the scene soon after Carrie, and he took my car to a shop. Thanks to Carrie, I am now home, and will be borrowing a car for the next few weeks.

Oh, what a day!

One Day

I found this entry in my journal. I had been living in Lancaster for two weeks.

From Sunday, September 12, 2010

Father,

I don't even know if I'm suppose to feed the parking meters. How far will I really get when three quarters only gives me thirty-six minutes in a cafe?

. . . Can I always run to a little city cafe to make my problems fade away under the smells of coffee beans and cookies?

I want church. Home. . . .
I want a job.
I want to live in the ghetto.
I want friends.
I want to ride a horse.

Do You hear me, God?
Do these desires just bounce off the ceiling, and get shut in my journal?
I know the answers to these questions. I know You're here, God. But my heart asks them anyway.

I believe. Help my unbelief.
I love You. Help me love You more fully.

Exactly thirty-three weeks later:

Sunday, May 1, 2011

Sundays are sad days for me. I miss church. I miss home. I use to look forward to small group and Sunday morning church at NewSong. Now, I don't look forward to anything. And I miss touch. I miss a hug, a shoulder squeeze, or even a familiar hand shake. The tears came as I realized this today. So thankful for tears. So thankful that I've been through this before, and God is faithful.

After I wrote this last night, I sat on my couch. The only light was a candle burning on the end table. I prayed. I remembered. I cried. I remembered the frustration and the loneliness of not having people or church when I first moved to Lancaster. I remembered getting lost on all the one way streets in the city, and searching for a job for months. God brought them all. I found home. I had a church. Friends. I knew my way around. Horses. Jobs. Blessings. Because God was faithful then, I remembered that He promises to be faithful now too. One day, I will again have something to look forward to each week. I will hug and be hugged. I will sit on the couch with a new friend. I will not get lost four times in one morning. I am blessed.

And maybe one day, I will live in the ghetto.