June 21: From my Journal

Life has not been kind to me. 

But as I look to him it can bubble up inside of me anyway. Love for life, and love for the people in it, around me. The snatches are powerful. 

Yesterday...

I love being a college student. I love history in my bright class room, I love the thrum in me as I see the past painting a story before my eyes, I love my Canadian instructor teaching American history, his smile, and occasionally frown, all combined. 

I love my entire class, even those who want to play High School and make silly cliques, and the snippy girl who is really lonely inside. I love my thought-provoking English class and the girls that I sit with, and the boy who ignores me and stares at my friend with dreamy eyes the size of saucers. 

I find the love causing me to leap to show it. I help my English instructor (who has no hands, only the beginnings of them) to erase the board, staying after class to do so. I sneak up behind a friend of mine and bound onto her in a hug, and go to lunch with her. I speak to a fellow from History that I normally wouldn't. I see burden in a girl's eyes, and gently prod her to speak. I listen to her sad story of loss and anxiety. I get her e-mail to help her in class, and give her a fervent hug, for which I get a raw and heartfelt, "Thank You."

I help another girl with her project. She has a smart mouth, and edge, but I love her too. 

"Perhaps I can use the movie Pocahontas as a primary source," one says. 

"I am certain you can convince the professor that Disney was there."

We giggle lightly. I love to giggle. 

The only book we can find in the entire library upon our tribe of topic is in the kid's section. And on the book's cover is a little white boy, donning some absurd kind of headdress. "Just put a funny hat on him," Caitlin remarks, "And he's an Indian all right."

I love our backwards society. I love the library. I love the kids section, full of light and laughter. I love life.I go to bed early, to keep myself on this roll of feeling good. 

And then today... 

I woke up. Took a shower. Numbly ate half a breakfast. And crawled right back into bed. 

The very thought of waking up and forcing myself to function was too monstrously insurmountable. 

I need healing. And healing takes time. 

But I'm going to stop beating myself up for the bad days, and trust that He'll take me through them. I'm going to stop beating myself up over the occasional B or C, because A's do not make me. Grades do not make me. Love does. 

I'm going to put my sword away, and keep raising that white flag like a banner of victory. Because when He is writing the story, I can be in today, and breathe today. And stop dying inside. 

Life has not been kind to me. But He always has been. And He always will be.

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