Staring at the Golden Gate Bridge

Can be a life consuming activity, especially when you wake up in a room with two sides of the perimeter made of glass and one of the sides with a mirror showing the bridge outside. I thought I had woken up in heaven, when the ceiling was bright blue and before sleeping, had shown me in the moon. There are boats passing by, sailboats, ferry boats. It rises majestically as the fog horn blows its whistle. The ocean waves crash up against it. The mountains peek through the fog adjacent to the bridge. The fog passes over the house, because of its proximity to the ocean.
I'm not dreaming, I'm on a spiritual retreat. One that involved me listening to God's voice this week instead of fulfilling my list of shoulds and responsibilities. It was hard to hear middle schoolers disappointed with my decision not to go skiing, but I knew that I needed a weekend alone, to recover, to reset, refocus, spend time with God. Shut the door and not be able to hear the people talking on the other side. I'm about to go experience God in a new way, one that involves the City by the Bay, but not in the way that I've known it to be so far- chaotic, full of hustle and bustle, sounds and smells. This will be the day that I stay by the ocean and think in awe about God and who He is to me and those around me.

Dreamweaver

I'm not great at designing websites... napping on Saturday afternoons... not using dots in text messages... or feeling relaxed.
Why I'm ticking things off of my to-do list today when I feel like I should be resting in the calm of the storm, before the semester really begins. It will be back to having something on my shoulders all the time, something to worry about, running from place to place on my bike or the MUNI. It's worth it, I know- to have my own classroom someday, start a school, use the gifts that I've been given to contribute to the world at large. Sometimes in the time before waking up at 8 AM for a Saturday class, of mid-week exhaustion, and of frustration with school administration, it seems otherwise and I can find myself doubting my decision.

I have a dream...

That I'll be continually growing in grace.

It's been one of those weekends where I've been continually stretched beyond what I thought possible. I've had to depend on people and ask for help. I've had to realize that they still love me despite the fact that I'm a broken mess, who can't hold true to everything I say I will or act a certain way all of the time. I've been withholding parts of my life from God and He's in turn, seemingly withholding to me. I've let feelings take over: they make good slaves but not good masters (thanks to Debby for that one).
But, I've also powerfully experienced the civil rights movement through the movie Soundtrack of a Revolution, such that I think I'll be better equipped next year to teach my kids about MLK day. This year, they made clouds saying I have a dream... that they hung around their necks and some responded by saying I have a dream... that I will get a cat while others said I have a dream... that everyone who's homeless will have something to eat. Some of them understood, others did not.
Or, I got to understand that I'm loved by my friends even when I'm not at my best. That I really have this inner creativity that needs to be met, by painting, by going to a museum, by designing bulletin boards at school. That Sunday nights filled with Little Star and laughter start the week off right.

Quirky, quirkier, quirkiest

So I looked this word up in the dictionary, since I wasn't sure if I should place a negative or positive connotation around it. It might not be completely and purely positive, but it can be- you are full of unique surprises if you are quirky (thanks to EK's definition). It may be the opposite of status quo or not normal per say, according to RW and RA.

Regardless, I'm trying to be okay with this. I want to live the purpose that I'm feeling called to live out, and maybe that's through being silly, being myself, bringing life to situations, and making people feel welcome. I might be the single girl in the room full of couples, maybe that's what makes me even more one-of-a-kind. I will walk home from church by myself on a Sunday, play bananagrams all afternoon, unable to pump up my own bike tires, drive around for a half hour looking for parking and not knowing how to change lanes. All of this doesn't mean that I'm unloveable, but rather that I'm quirky.