Eighth.

I drank my first full cup of actual, not mocha or latte, coffee about 2 hours ago. It was semi-enjoyable. I pansied it up first with creamer and sugar.


Now I'm wide awake, but I can feel the fakeness of it. And the crash is looming ahead of me.

Sometimes I think that my bunk bed is kinda like those Blob things they have at some camps. You know the things that you put one person on the far end, just sitting there. Then someone else (preferably a large someone else) jumps on the opposite end catapulting the other. My bed is like that. That 'someone else' is my alarm. I'm sleeping comfortably...then all of a sudden I'm thrown into a panic by a loud BEEHHHHH sound that scares me half to death every time. And daggum that water's cold. 

Listen to how God blessed me this weekend/for the rest of the year: I'm not volunteering at the girls' home like I did last year because there was only one of the seven-ish girls there that I bonded with. I didn't feel like God was calling me back there, so I now work at this outdoor, horse farm, ministry place. It's really cool. I get to be outside, be with animals and kids all at once. And guess who also volunteers there every other Saturday with her mom? Yeah, sure as anything, it's that one girl, Payton is her name. I was blown away. 

I love how powerful and just great my God is. 

Seventh.

I like when the things I learn in class apply to real life.
Psychological Principle: Visual recognition depends on stored knowledge.

Yesterday as I was leaving Demoss (an academic building/home of the library at LU) I passed a guy who was really frightened of something. I asked him if he was okay...his response was to point at the ground and say, "Is that a grasshopper?" 
It was NOT a grasshopper. It was indeed...a praying mantis. It was about 5 inches long and walking. 
I almost laughed at him. He asked if they jump, fly, or bite. I answered his questions. He asked what a grasshopper was, if that wasn't one. I explained as best I could. (how do you explain a grasshopper?)

I could not imagine someone not knowing what a grasshopper was. Really? You mistake a praying mantis for a grasshopper? I guess he hadn't seen either one of those before. That's sad. 

But what was encouraging is the fact that he was presented with the choice of destroying the unknown scary creature or gaining knowledge about it, and he chose to let it live and explore it. 

Good for you, brother. I'm proud of you. 

Sixth.

Well, hello. 

This situation reminds me of those phone calls you get and give to friends you used to talk to all the time, got separated, then decided you should probably check and catch up with. It's awkward. It's not that you don't have anything to say. It's quite the opposite. You have so much to say, and so much has happened that you just don't know where to start. My problem is deciding what's important to tell. I know what mattered to me, but what does this person have time to hear and interest in hearing? It's unfortunate, this thing called time. 

So, now that we've established the awkward factor, we can move on. I'll tell you as much as my computer's battery allows me to. (There's something flying in my dorm room. I have no idea what it is. It might be my hope. No, it's a gnat. I should probably get that fruit out of here...)

I worked at Look Up again this summer (ALOHA!!!!) and it was fantastic and freakishly hard this year. I was surrounded by superb people and a constant nagging that I am the most arrogant, selfish, conceited, and cruel person on the face of the earth. God, man, He to' me up this summer. Or rather, burned me down like the gates of Jerusalem. He flipped some switches, put light into some corners, and reminded me of some stuff I put under that rug (I still don't know if it's Persian, so don't ask). He conveyed His immense love to me through those around me, and through one song in particular...John Mark McMillan's "How He Loves". Look it up. It'll be worth your while. Gosh I love that song.

My Father also reoriented my hope center. It's now in the restoration, the completion of our salvation and the redemption of all Creation. He has given me a book to read, Shane Claiborne's "The Irresistible Revolution" which has given me hope for living like the Kingdom's already here and doing what the Church is supposed to do. Man, I am so ready for that. (Lauren Brewer, we will do this.) 

I am struggling, though, with waiting for my Father to move in certain areas that He's shown me He will move in, and wishing that every follower of the Way would actually follow the Way. We had a discussion in a class today about how many pairs of shoes we have (don't ask me why. I already need to have a talk about wise use of time with that professor). Most of the girls had more than 10 pairs of shoes. Do you need that many? No. No you don't. There are people in the Lynchburg community who can't afford one pair. You have 30. They have none. It was funny (and frustrating) to hear the shame in their voices and the excuses they used to validate their indulgence.

They know they are being wasteful. They know it's entirely silly to have that many shoes. But, we're in America. And that's what we do. We acknowledge how insanely overkill our expenditures are and do nothing to correct them. That's why poverty still exists. The Church isn't doing Its job. And I see it everyday in the superfluous entities that are Liberty University and Thomas Road Baptist Church.

Also, I broke up with the world. It's Facebook official. 

My battery's dying (in more than one context)...