On Jordan's stormy banks I stand

Is how I should be approaching Advent, knowing that "Chilling winds nor pois'nous breath... sickness, sorrow, pain and death are felt and feared no more," because I'm bound for Promised Land. Promised Land that is after holiday craziness, final projects and papers in classes, finishing up three more weeks of school.
I used to love, love this time of year- more for the magic of it, believing in Santa (until I was 12!), and feeling the warmth of Jesus. Now, I'm withdrawn from the materialism and hype of it all, trying to get back into the daily reflection of Advent.
I want to be like Mary and say, "God, do what you want with me," surrender everything. I don't know what He wants me to do. My cousins asked me, "Meg, are you going to stay here for a while, in California? What does your family think?" My answer didn't really do it justice, but yes, I feel like I'm here for a reason, even though there's lack of quiet and space, sometimes sunshine, and cool nights without central heating.
It may be because there's a mom sitting next to me whose kids I have in my class at church. Or because I can feel known by my community. Or because being with my best friend or eleven year olds makes my stomach hurt from laughing.

I'm blogging

Watching the Hills, en route to Los Angeles in the air, so much for minimizing the multitasking. I could even use my iPhone. I made it through the first semester of getting my teaching credential, almost. I had an observation today, I don't know how it went, but I'm thankful to have five days out of the city. And to have turned in projects for my classes, with one in each to go. The overwhelming feeling is starting to recede.
I came home at 3:30 from work. I made the bus to the airport, I navigated BART even though I didn't have change for my fare (the man behind the counter changed my twenty for four fives and told me it never happened).

Today was epic

Because I was able to take constructive criticism for what it was and not crumble to pieces.
Because I could not turn in an assignment that wasn't necessarily due and take my time with it.
Because I am going to try and go to bed early.
Because I rode my bike home on Turk in the rain.
Because I reasoned through situations, thinking that they might have to do more with other people than they do me.
Because I decided that I may not need to please people as much as I think I need to.
Because I feel God's presence in my life now more than I have in a really long time.
Because I could work at school and not feel pulled in ten million directions.
Because I found out that I'm loved by first graders from their parents.
Because I got an encouraging email from a friend.

Detoured

I just saw this documentary about Rogue Wave's drummer who needs a kidney transplant. I love Death Cab for Cutie and all things associated with them- Great Heights, Zoe, both bands at the Greek Theater with my hip uncle and auntie.
It wasn't until just now that I realized my precious lease on life. I've been spending a lot of time lately back in my old patterns of self-pity- so and so doesn't like me, I get made fun of and laughed at, I'm always messing up, I have an overwhelming amount of schoolwork and work work. I'm trying to be myself, but I just end up wanting to please everyone around me. It's like the sixth grader today who told me that all of those things that I try to fill my life up that aren't God is like chewing gum and tricking your mind into you being full just because you are chewing. I thought that was profound. I wish I could have said that thirteen years ago. They also told me no boyfriend, no problems. So right.
I went to Land's End today by myself to check out the rocks and the waves crashing over them, trying to feel that God was going to sustain me through the waves breaking and at times, drowning the rocks. That wasn't a middle schooler who told me that, but one of their parents.
My feelings keep detouring me away from the reality of the situation- that God loves me, that He's excited about me, that He's doing a new thing in me. It might mean singing Beatles songs to Laguna Honda patients on a Saturday afternoon or sharing my life with kids. I want to trust that it's going to be better than the detoured path I've set myself up to take.

City lights

I'm sitting on a Sunday night, looking at the city of San Francisco. Anticipating a David Gray concert. Smelling a new vanilla bourbon Voluspa candle. The fatigue of the last few weeks caught up to me this week, manifesting itself in my contacts glued to my eyes, groggy mornings, and afternoon naps. I laid in the park yesterday, today I laid on the couch.
I'm realizing that living here, things become more stressful sometimes than they would somewhere else. That I need some space every once and a while to be by myself, write papers, read a book, connect with God. I don't have to be doing something every minute or think about what other people are doing while I'm resting, what I'm missing out on.
Babysitting last night, I thought about how it would be hard to be home all of the time when you have kids. My lifestyle is so opposed to being home and still, it never happens. Spontaneity actually refreshes me, planning seems to zap the energy from me. I feel more expectation when there is build-up.