A Day at the Beach

I visited Long Beach today. Sarah and I went to visit our LAUP sites today. Beautiful town. My heart beats faster and my fingers twitch with anticipation thinking about it. I think I might belong there. We went  to see the kids at Covenant Pres's after school program. A few of them remembered us. I carried little Kayla around the whole time. I didn't get tired of holding her. I wish she was my little girl. Or, that someday, I could have a daughter like that. I know I don't deserve that, but who really deserves a girl like Kayla. It was Pastor Adele's birthday today. All smiles, and nothing different for her. Up to our arms in kids, hugging, teaching, kissing bruises, and tying shoelaces. She said that us visiting was her birthday present. how wonderful for your existence to be somebody's birthday present. I'd never thought about that possibility. The kids kept talking about us being there two years ago. I told them that it was one year ago, but in a way, I felt like they were more correct. It had been longer than it had been. I missed this place. A lot. I can see all the kids from when we were here. They're the same, but different. They're older, in more ways than one. I saw lots of spiritual warfare while I was in Long Beach. I'm not normally the type to talk about these things, but I know what I saw. I guess I forgot about how in tuned with these things pastors Rob and Adele were. They were winning. These kids, the ones that stuck around, were being transformed. Victory is happening in Long Beach. It's  beautiful. Then we went to COA. We wanted to see old friends, and serve a meal to the homeless. The only old people that were there were Dixie, Cindy, and Scotty. No one else knew us. That's alright. Someone told Sarah and I that we couldn't sit at the table with the homeless people. He said that they didn't run this program just so that we could sit around and talk to homeless people, and that they needed to eat, not talk to us. What a silly thing for him to think! As if the only purpose of feeding the homeless was to give them food! I didn't have time to explain this to him, because Sarah and I had to go. You and I, Long Beach. We're not done here.I want to be here again someday...

ADeepBreath

I'm writing again. I'm going to put a poem up here soon, about this weird phase in my life. So keep me accountable, you loyal reader(s?), because I should have enough time to accomplish things here. That's all for now. 

P.S. I just went on an outing with the kids from the nursery @ my church. There's something about children that makes life bearable. I know it doesn't really make sense, that the fact that new life is constantly being added to the painful, dizzying chaos of the "real world," and I think that's a good thing. You'd think I wouldn't want to wish anyone else to come and experience the world as it is. But I do. I think that's another reason why I believe in God.

Mornings Have Disappeared

I woke up this morning at 11:00. I don't eat breakfast anymore. There was once a time when I would have had a million things to do by this time. Now I start at this point. I got an email today from the hotel I applied to. They said I'm not what they're looking for. They needed a dishwasher. I don't know a lot of things, but I think I know how to wash dishes. Why won't they let me wash dishes? I'd do a good job. I really would. I have no idea what to do from this point. I met a guy in Huntington Beach last night who is a CFO (management in film industry). I told him I have no idea where to go to find experience for an industry that is so connections based. He said I should look into porn. I'm not sure what my Mom would say about that. Or Jesus. Was it impossible? Maybe it was. So where do I go from here? I have no marketable skills, and not enough confidence to lie about what I know. I think that's the only way anyone gets anything. I don't know anything about the real world. I can't even type. I took some tests at a temp agency. I can type 22 words per minute. The world is getting faster, and I am slowing down. God, what do you want me to do? I've got nothing.

In Between Sunrises

I feel a strong need to write again. Like my fingers are on fire and the clickety-clack of of my keyboard is part of some elaborate stop-drop-and-roll technique that I never really perfected until it was needed. 

It's nice to be needed. I think. I've heard that, at least. It would be nice to know again that if I decided not to show up, or do my part, that something would be missing in the world. It would be nice to have to leave my apartment for some reason. It would be nice to get that urgent phone call at 2:oo in the morning. The one that says "I need you." 

I'm told that it's tiring to be needed all the time. Some people say that. Those people should try being completely useless. I just want to sleep all day. My life is like a shotgun fired into the air. A big distraction, with no purpose. Just a brilliant flash, and then everything scatters. I'm sitting alone in a meadow where everyone once was. I think I scared them away. Or maybe they got bored and left. I would leave too, but I've nowhere else to go, nowhere where I make sense. This is my meadow. And it's dark here. I can't see anything clearly. I might as well sit down and wait for morning to come. If it does, then I'll be able to see soon. I guess that's when I will know what to do. Until then, all I have is alone. All I have is dark. The morning has not come yet. 

God, I wish I could see you, and hear you. I wish you were somewhere nearby where I could run. I wish I could get up and find you. But it's dark, and I can't see. So I will wait. Wait until the morning sun warms my eyes, or until I feel your hand on my shoulder. If you tell me to run in the dark, I will trust you. But tell me something, and tell me soon, because I am tired of sitting. I am tired of dark. I am tired of waiting for morning to come.

Fire Shut up, I can't shut up.

O Lord, you deceived me, and I was deceived,

you overpowered me and you prevailed.

I am ridiculed all day long;

everyone mocks me.

Whenever I speak, I cry out

proclaiming violence and destruction.

So the word of the Lord has brought me

insult and reproach all day long.

But if I say "I will not mention him

or speak any more in his name," 

his word is in my heart like a fire,

A fire shut up in my bones.

I am weary of holding it in,

indeed, I cannot.

(Jerimiah 20:7-10)(NIV)

Screw feeling sorry for myself. I'm back.