Late Nights and White Noise
I’m listening to my YWAM playlist right now. It was very much a “missing them” sort of day. I dreamed of a reunion, in which only JT, Charlie, and Naomi were unable to make it. I got my drivers license, six months after promising Maddie and Ashlin that I would before I saw them again. There were two birthdays in a row. Raem showed me a picture of renovations they did on the Chaiyaphum base. I’m finishing up my final few weeks of DTS journal, transferring from phone to paper. I got caught up in the outreach section of my camera roll. The DBS crew went camping together. Leaving is feeling real, and sooner than it actually is.
It’s interesting, how the missing of them ebbs and flows. Like actual grief. I haven’t missed it like this in quite some time. It is less painful now. But wow. The money I would pay to have one more team time in Chaiyaphum, one more guitar night with JT and the crew, anything. Even a quiet Saturday. I would give it all.
***
My life is moving in a weird sort of way. The first week after camp dragged by, slower than anything, it felt like. After I got back from the 4th at my grandparents, that’s when it picked up speed again. The month of July is over half over, and the first day of it feels like yesterday.
Time is weird.
***
I think I have writers block. I think I’ve had writers block for a while.
There’s a lot of potent feelings and thoughts in me right now, and normally, they would all be fighting for a place on the page, but right now, they seem keyboard shy.
It would probably help if I could pin down what exactly I’m feeling and thinking.
I fear I may have gotten in the bad habit of drowning myself out. (And God as a result). If I’m not reading, I’m listening to music, I’m watching a show, I’m talking to someone in person, or by text, or I’m writing letters, or any number of other things.
I wonder what I’m hiding from.
I don’t think it would be sadness over leaving camp. I had a normal amount of that, handled it like I always handle leaving camp (like a CHAMP. A clingy champ, but thats a minor point). Could it be leaving here? The fact that I don’t know where my life is going?
Oh, I got it.
I don’t think that I am where I should be. In a lot of ways. Part of that is knowing what my future plans are (after the next few months, I have nothing at all). Another part is emotionally. I’m not saying that I should be able to control my emotions, but they should absolutely NOT be controlling me. I am 19 years old. I am not a child. Socially is the big thing. I saw an old friend at the track today, and was too. Unsure. To even acknowledge him. I ask how people are doing, and when some inevitably say not well, I don’t have a response.
E never asks for advice, I have a feeling she doesn’t want it. But when she shares her struggles and I meet her with only silence, there is something not right. It’s not that I don’t want to say anything. It’s that I CAN’T. No words show up. I pride myself on being a huge word nerd, but when the words really count, nothing shows up.
J tells me he’s struggling to meet with the Lord. My response? “Mm yeah I get that. Do you have an accountability partner?” Shoving him off on someone else, because I know that the words won’t come.
A shares the fears that he’ll never amount to what he wants to be, and he doesn’t even know that that is. I relate, but instead of saying something that could genuinely help him, I talk in circles under the guise of sounding smart.
T confides about sadness, and I make it about me without even meaning to.
There has to be something wrong with me developmentally or something.
I didn’t realize that this was something in me that was missing until I saw E stand up in front of a crowd and spontaneously give an incredibly powerful sermon about God’s love and power in the midst of pain.
I joked about not being able to talk to people, but eventually those jokes caught up to me.
I saw her talking and it hit me. I bring nothing of value to most conversations. Devo groups that I was supposed to be leading were silent unless the campers chose to talk (and they rarely did).
Is the ability to actually communicate and bring something of value to the world something that I will grow in to?
Idk. At this point, I’ll stick to having been incredibly smart at 8 years old and never growing past that.
Sure I can read fast, and write well sometimes.
But can I help people with my words? Can I make an impact?
The answer right now is no.
Soundtrack: Please (Jeremy Zucker). Hard fought hallelujah (Brandon Lake). Here as in Heaven (elevation worship). Call your mom (Noah kahan). 4Runner (brenn)
Rainy Ramblings 