Today was the first day of my Sophomore year. I quickly figured out that I will have no time to breathe during the week. I spent all day in classes, just to spend four plus hours at Tour Choir auditions. BUT! Today was a splendid day. I love my OTP class and my professor. I, as to be expected, loved being back in Tour Choir. Geeze, I have missed it. It felt so good to just be back in the swing of things after an unfamiliar day of new classes and new faces. Speaking of new faces... I am going to like the new Tour Choir Family. The few I was chit chatting with seemed to be a barrel of fun hopefully, it all stays that way once we travel.
I start work in Graphics tomorrow. I work two hours Tuesday and Thursday and then two hours on Mondays. It will be interesting seeing how things go.
Tomorrow classes start and my heart is coming around. I have officially registered and am excited about classes. I am not excited about auditions, but am so ready to be back in the family of Tour Choir. Surprisingly, I want homework-maybe it's just that I want something to do. So far, I have loved living by myself. It isn't as lonely as I thought it was going to be. People have visited a lot and the alone time and space is exactly what I need.
It's so good to be back. I found out today that I am the only one on my major. Haha. It's neat, but I'm not sure what to do. Mostly because I don't want to spend a semester away in Dallas. I guess I'll have to suck it up and be brave when tat time comes. I might be working in the Graphics Department. (I really hope I do.) I know I would be working in the back, but it is still the job I want. BUT I haven't gotten my assignment yet-which is really weird.
Geeze. I really hate auditions. I hope that I get an email about what I have to do to prepare. In Christ Alone? Bahh.. Who knows.. Auditions should be illegal.
I wish I could describe how I feel. I don't know if it is because of coming back to Johnson, and having the re-entry shock here... but I can't find the words. I want to be isolated and crawl into a ball. Maybe it's because to get out of this rock and a hard place, I have to get up.. and to get up I have to actually take action. Action is scary. All I want to do is lie down in the dirt and cry, making a mess of myself and the tears. I love Johnson, and love my friends.. but my heart is not in the right place.
I didn't take communion this morning. For the first time since I've become a Christian, I chose not to partake. For me, it was an outward sign that I wasn't going to keep going through the motions and that my life is screwed up. I don't think anyone around me even noticed that I didn't get up, not that I did it for the attention... But I wondered how many of the people that immediately stood to their feet to go to the communion tables we 'ready' to partake. Are we ever? One of the definitions for Communion is intimate fellowship or rapport. I have not had intimate fellowship or rapport with or for God for a long time, and today I had to deal with that. I've been going through the motions for so long that I just took communion because it was 'what I was supposed to do'. No, I'm not going to fix myself before I go to Jesus, blah blah blah.. But I needed to do this. Go ahead.. argue with me. But when Caleb was talking about the gift that we had and how we take it for granted so often, I knew that if I took communion in that service, I would be doing just that. Communion, much like the rest of my life, has become such a ritual. A chore, and not something to look forward to.
So, I am sitting here in my room. My heart is heavy and I can't find words for how I feel. Tomorrow is another day.. I shall see what comes of it.
So.. earlier this summer, I noted how light of a sleeper I am and tonight, this has proved all too true. I am finally in Tennessee and will move into Johnson in five hours. Unfortunately, one member of my family has a nasty snoring problem. Being that things are all packed away in the van out in the parking lot, my computer charger is, of course, in the van. I just got the first "warning" of my battery being low on my laptop, so, hopefully the post will be finished before then and my mother will stop snoring.
I made it.
Granted, I have not set foot on the Johnson Bible College campus yet, unloaded my things, figured out who on earth my computer is supposed to connect to the ridiculous new network.. But, I've made it. The last two months have been an emotional roller coaster with Cambodia thrown in and a few other things.. but.. I just feel so at peace. I feel rested although I haven't really slept since last night and am yawning while I am typing this. I just feel good.
With starting a new school year, usually there is anticipation, fear and anxiety. But right now.. I feel so peaceful. Granted, I think I would feel more peaceful if I could actually sleep in this hotel room.. but I didn't think I ever would because of the emotions listed above. I feel like I ended the last page of Prologue of my life as Freshman year ended. I don't know why this year isn't going to be a sequel, but it won't. This year is the beginning: the beginning of who I am really supposed to be.
When I set out to college the first time for my Freshman year, my youth minister hugged myself and one of my really close friends who also went away to college. He said to her, "I love you, be good, call if you need me." But to me, he said, "be the real Emma Petitt that you were meant to be." He probably put it more eloquently than I remember, but the words resonated with me so much that I did seek to find who I truly was in my first semester. It hurt my relationships with some and ended others. In May, I gained a friend back that I had missed dearly for three years. Even through all of the 'soul searching', I didn't find who Emma Petitt was until this summer. I want to be her. I need to be her. The Emma Petitt that I have caught glimpses of this summer is quiet, reserved, thinks things through, does not like attention, a leader when she needs to be, passionate with every fiber of her being, would honestly rather observe people than engage with them, she likes to sing, but loves to listen. She feels like photography capture things that the eyes can sometimes miss and helps people remember what has been etched away in the heart. She has re-found her talent to paint. She, obviously, seeks the need to write. Now, if you are like me, who clearly knows the old Emma.. it seems strange that someone can change like this in one summer.. or a year. But.. I think I've always been this way. This me has been something fighting to get out my entire life but has been hidden away behind rage and hatred that looked like me for a long time. Then I wanted ot everyone's friend because I knew what it felt like to not be. And now, I can look back a year ago and be astonished that I talked as much or the things I was saying. All I want to do now is listen. There is so much beauty found in listening, and I take great joy in knowing that many many people do it.. so it's kind of like my secret.
Yes... I will still be obnoxious. Yes, I will still dance horribly in public. Yes, I will still say those stupid things that no one expects me to say because I can't hear anything so my thoughts get mixed up. But I guess it is safe to say that a war has begun within me. And not a quiet one. It is one that will change me, for good. And if I succeed, and I hope that I do. I will be what Brian told me to be. I will be the person I am supposed to be.
Even if it's a year or so after he said so.
Sometimes I wonder why things seem so big, so consuming. Someone says something, a small something: minuscule, really. And somehow, the Earth stops rotating and pulses begin to beat faster and all eyes are on you. Do they know? Do they really know about how insecure I am?
Well, I'll just let you know now.
I'm insecure.
Oh, and don't drink NyQuil without warning your friends first. It might result in an above post.
There is a dark, damp room with empty walls and peeling old paint. In this room, there is a mirror. This mirror tells glamorous stories, spins beautiful webs, and creates the most alluring sounds. Each being has their own mirror, but this mirror belongs to a being named Image. Since the first glimpse of reflection, Image has been coming to this mirror time and time again. Sometimes Image would come every day, and sometimes, Image would hold off until it needed to come back on it’s hands and knees, grasping for more.
Crawling to the mirror with blood, sweat and many tears, Image pleaded, “Mirror, tell me who I am for I have gone away and have forgotten!”
“Oh, yes. I know this one quite well,” The mirror began. Proceeding, the mirror began spinning, creating and telling the best stories ever known until Image had fallen on it’s face from pain and embarrassment. Tears escaped from the tired eyes of the trodden down, fragile image. Turning to the escape, Image slowly clambered out of the room with the ounce of dignity it had left. This cycle continued year after year until Image’s visits were few and far between, but they lasted for days and days at a time. Yet, one day, Image stopped coming. But the mirror waited for Image, knowing that it would come back for more: it always did.
Dust collected on the rigid edges of the mirror and fell far into the grooves with no breath to breathe the dust away while Image was gone. And then, one day, Image came back-taller than the mirror had remembered and it had something with it.
“Oh, Image! You have been gone for so long… and my, how you’ve grown.” The mirror added in astonishment.
“Yes. I have been gone for quite some time.. and now, I am going to tell you a story.”
“Oh, please, be my guest.”
“When I left you last, I was broken and bruised. I could barely open my eyes. Once I escaped these walls, I collapsed. I don’t remember what happened right after that, but when I awoke, I was in a room with a man sitting next to me. At first, we didn’t speak at all. He was just there all the time. He gave me something to drink and offered me food, although I wasn’t hungry. When he began speaking, he had a soft, velvet voice that made me want to listen.” At this point, Image began pacing the room with her object in tow. “When I began speaking back, he asked me if I knew who I was. I told him that I didn’t and that I wasn’t sure that I ever had. It was then he told me, ‘Well, that just means we will get to figure it out together.’ He then told me about you. He doesn’t like you very much, you know. He told me that you were powerful, but that he was more powerful than you, and he knew how to defeat you.”
Image turned to face the mirror with tears streaming down it’s face as it picked up the gleaming Sword it had been holding. “You have had control my entire life, and control you will have no longer.” With that, Image drew back with all her might and drove the Sword into the belly of the mirror. Glass shattered and rained all around His Image. And in the silence, the still small voice was heard… ‘I will never leave you or forsake you’. His Image then took Christ’s hand as He lead His Image over the shattered remains of it’s life.
“What do we do now?” Asked His Image.
Smiling, he said, “This, we do just this.” And they walked out of the dilapidated old building and into the sunlight.
I thought I was in love once.
Not the middle school, ooohhh ahhhh-he looked at me, weak in the knees- love. But the kind that when taken away, tears your heart to shreds. I cried myself to sleep for years after he and I parted ways. After I screwed it up really. It seems silly now, but I said one wrong thing, and everything blew up. really, I was crying and angry for different reasons, but now I look at my life and wonder what it would have been like if he had been in it. I was told by someone once that I may never feel so strongly about another as I did about him in that instant. -I think my older, happily married friend was speaking from experience.
When we were together, we fought constantly. But, I almost craved it. Just to be around him. After what never began was officially severed, he lashed out even more than before. Personally attacking me, bringing me to tears often. I haven't spoken more than a paragraph to him a year's time. We are completely different people now. Well, I went away to college. And when I came back, I saw him laughing-saw him smiling.. something I hadn't seen in a long time. I see him changing into the man he is supposed to be. It's a beautiful sight to see really.
I'm pretty sure I was in love with the idea of being loved. I always have been, truthfully. Now it is almost as if I run from love. It is very easy for me to give love and often times, I give too much which ends with me hurt. It has always been hard for me to accept love. I would rather tell someone I love them than hear it. I would rather do something for someone than have something done for me.
Maybe that's why it is so hard for me to accept God's love. I know He loves me. I can sing all the songs, read all the books, do all the homework assignments and do all the devotionals... But, I don't know when I will know it in my heart. Or, rather, when I will remember. It is not hard for me to love God. This beautiful, majestic, wonderful Creator who took time out of His busy schedule to create me. But when I look in the mirror.. Do I believe it? I don't understand how a beautiful perfect God can love something like me.
I want to be so in love with God that it consumes my every thought. That it brings me to tears and I fall to my knees as if I have lost the love of my life. I just don't know where to begin.
I have been drinking a lot of tea lately, and have realized that it may be the root of my sleeping problems. I can no longer blame my problems on jet lag, for it has been almost a month since I have returned. I have decided to write to see what comes out of me. Also, I have been listening to a song called, Rend by Jimmy Needham on repeat recently since Wendy gave me the CD.
_______
The song reminds me of someone, even though it isn't her story, or, it shouldn't be since she is only a child. Kim Leung (Sounds like Gim-lee-in, which is why she was known as Gamille to all those who were in Cambodia with me.) Of all of the pictures I took during my time in Cambodia, this is the single photograph that brings me to tears every time. There is so much behind this little girl. The picture that you see is not her being tired or a sad moment that she had. Our first day there, and really, up until our return and our last day in Cambodia she was quite and reserved. She clung to one of my teammates, Amy, for dear life. Only on the the last day we were there, after we had been gone for a week and had come back did I ever hear her laughter. Hers is the laugh that I hear in my head. The smile that I see that drives me to spread the knowledge about people in situations like hers.
Kim Leung's family has been ravaged by AIDS. Her father had it and passed it to her mother and Kim Leung's sister died at the age of five, a year before 'Gamille' was born. Now, in Cambodia, there is no middle class so, the poor are really, really poor. Kim Leung's mother didn't have enough money to take her daughter to get an HIV/AIDS test to find out if she was positive or not. I thought that the testing would be a lot of money because her mom couldn't pay for it.. but it is only three American dollars. -A fortune to them, I am sure! I felt so convicted about this whole situation and the fact that Kim Leung didn't know if she even had a chance at a normal life, I gave her mother money for the HIV test and for food for however long it lasted them.
I know I brought this up in a recent post, but when her mother got on her knees in front of me and thanked me, at first I wanted her to go away because I didn't want people to know what I had done.. But then, when Theara's sister told me Gamille's mom couldn't pay for the test because she didn't have a job because of the HIV... What I had done in one moment.. one sum of 40 dollars was enough to make a woman fall to her knees. I was overwhelmed by guilt, happiness, wonder.. I wanted to slap myself in the face for not reach down to her and embracing her. But we had many other hugs that I cherish so much.
When we left Phnom Pehn and went to the rest of our trip, I wondered the whole time if I would know by the time I got back if she was positive or not.. And, in my heart I knew she didn't have AIDS. When we came back to Phnom Pehn, I was talking with Theara's sister, and she told me that she was negative and that they were going to take her back a month or so later to make sure it was an accurate test. When I saw Kim Leung that night, I saw her as a different girl. She was laughing, talking, smiling! She was playing with other children, talking with them, playing with not just Amy, but others from our team.. it was a beautiful sight to be seen. She had life and zest.. and I do not believe it was just because we had come back. I feel like her life had started while we were gone. Her new life.
So, when I see this picture, so many things flood my mind.. and there is still a possible chapter to her storythat hasn't been written.. her mother could end up selling her into prostitution for money-but I don't think her mother would do that. Not the mother that I met. But, I could be wrong. We can only pray it doesn't happen through the good an incredible work that Kid's Club is doing to educate and prevent sex trafficking from taking more families victim.
Our lives are hard.. but others are harder. I have three dollars in change in my wallet right now, I'm sure. There are probably three dollars in our couch cushions. This little girl, as small and as young as she may be, has taught me that life is priceless and we are all created for something. Maybe.. maybe I was sent on that trip to give her mom that money.. I don't know. She would've been tested eventually. But I don't think her life would've started so soon.
No, I do not take the credit for her smiling and laughing and playing with the other teammates that were with me.. I spent time with her the first day and that was really it. But I am an observant person, and I watched her change from when there was the absence of truth and then there was the presence of knowledge.
I know in this small sized picture, you can't see it.. But when it's blown up.. a reflection of me is inside her eyes. Maybe that's why I cry every time. I didn't plan on doing it and didn't even know about it until I was back in the states. It's magical really. It's like.. Even in her sadness.. someone is there for her. And, you can't see that it's me. The camera is focused on her hands anyway. And I know that she probably won't remember me. But she remembers someone. She remembers 'her mom' which is not her birth mother. It's Amy that I've told you about.
Both of us risked that week. She risked with her time with Gamille, and I risked with what I had in my pocket. Both resulted in changing her life.
Posted by
Cracks Let The Light Come In
8:17 PM
The following is something that I typed into my phone while I was on my last flight during my Cambodia trip. I found it today, and it thought it was a good piece of my heart.
"So.. I'm on the plane from LA to Cincy. Matthew and Katie are both sleeping, but apparently my body is against it. I don't have a 'moving map' in front of me so I have no idea where we are and how much longer we have. I'm just so done with flying right now. Even though I don't want to be back, I would rather be at home than in limboland at the LAX airport, or in a hotel saying goodbye to my teammates. The weeks were good, and over too fast. My heart is still there and I am still processing. I have no idea what I'm going to tell to tell my friends and family when I do finally arrive in Cincy. I want to say it was frustrating, but then that could turn people off. Yes, it was fun, but it wasn't all fun and games. Yes, God was certainly present but He and I had it out a bit.
I wish I could look outside right now. I closed the little window shade thing because it was hitting Matthew and Katie in the face. I don't know where we are... but, hopefully this will be over soon and I can crawl into my own bed.
I think I'll tell people it was heartbreaking and incredible? Whatever second adjective I use.. heartbreaking is definitley one that needs to be in there. To be amoungst so much poverty, but at the same time so much love.. So incredible. Yes, Cambodia is an extremly dark country, but my heart is there. I wanted God to break me before the trip so I could fully experience it.. but I'm glad He didn't. I learned so much from this trip.. I don't know what is going to come from my life. I am disgusted with everything that I have, but don't know what to do about it.I want to get the word out and tell all American's that we're all unaware and selfish.. but I can't do that. Yes, I have a lot of words for my trip, but really.. I have none.I am still speechless from the beauty in brokenness. I mean, offering us their olny drinking water to wash our feet? Selling their own daughter for 100 dollars? Buing sex for 2 dollars? I don't know what to do with myself.. I don't know where to go and I don't know how to deal. I'm almost traumatized or something. Even when I write to get my emotions out, I get even more confused. It's when I start processing that I want to take action, and in my actions is where I get lost. With everything I've learned and experienced, my heart has been broken and my calling has been made. I have never felt more strongly about something in my entire life. Maybe it means I go back next summer, but maybe I don't come baack for a long time. Maybe I still do Bible Translation, maybe I change my major. Maybe I'm just really confused. Haha. I want people to know and I want people to get spurred on. I just don't know how."
Well, here I sit. there are only a whopping 8 days until I venture back to Tennessee. My heart is a mix of emotions, I'll tell you that. I am glad to be back with my friends.. But I know it won't be the same, or what I'm expecting. Last year.. It was wonderful and marvelous. To be out on my own for the first time and to have real-life independence. But now, I know what all that feels like and I have expectations. For it to be better than last time. For my classes to be more interesting, for me to get better grades, to make more friends. To no end up in the hospital again :) That would be marvelous!
I've changed a lot this summer. I've figured a lot out about myself.
I'm an introvert.
Weird, right? Yes-I like people, but not enough to be around them all the time. I need my 'me' time, I guess you could say so I can function at the end of the day. I always feel the best when I've spent a few hours by myself just sitting, or listening to music before I had to go to class. it will be different this year because I have a TON of down time on tues/thurs and not so much on wed/frid.
Overall, I am extremely excited to be going back. I am actually voluntarily cleaning my room before it is the last moment. :) Hmm.. This week looks like: a lot of packing, cleaning, a doctor's appointment, a hair appointment to cut my hair for the third time in four weeks, and going to the grandparents house to get the van so we can take it down to Tennessee with all my junk. And then, one week from tomorrow, I will be on my way to the place I call home :)
A lot has been happening in my life the last month. A crazy whirlwind of emotions began and have not ceased. Long story short, I went to Cambodia, had shell shock/ re-entry shock and am still fighting with the two voices in my head, so to speak. I got my hair chopped off. And, strangely enough, I wanted more off when 6 beautiful inches of my hair fell to the ground. I only have..16? days until I go back to Johnson. Haha. I'm not ready. At least not as ready as I was last year. I still haven't unpacked from Cambodia! Last year, I was packed by the beginning of the summer and had to live my life out of boxes for three months.
I will say that I am incredibly glad to be going back to Johnson though. My heart yearns to be back there. And at Summit too. It's funny how God can work. A church that I never saw myself at is where I cannot wait to return to. There is immense joy in my heart. Joy to be back and to restart the life I love and not be in this waiting process that I have been stuck in all summer.
I can still smell Cambodia sometimes. I can still feel the heat on my skin. I can still hear the laughter and see the smiling faces. I can still feel the overwhelming love and see the strongest light from Christians I've ever seen in my life. The memories are etched into my soul. But the details are slowly fading. I wish SO much that they weren't. My heart aches to think that I could forget that place and that time in my life. When I think about seeing them, here in America, I burst into tears. I'm not sure if it's the prospect of seeing them again or knowing that they won't ever have this life. Although I hate so much what I have here..It is my life. I have been blessed beyond anything they can ever imagine. Maybe I've been blessed with this so I can give it to them. -Not sell everything I have and own so I can have the money to return or have the money to give it to the families and children I fell in love with so they have money to eat and not to sell their daughters into prostitution.
40 dollars could be the difference between life and death-selling her child or not. When I gave Kim Leung's mom that money for food and the HIV test, she got on her knees and thanked me with the folding of her hands and her bowing her head. She is so fragile. And so beautiful. Often times I feel guilty about wanting school to come so quickly.. schooling for half a year to them is 500 dollars. That is an incredible fortune to them. Last semester I had a book that cost 111.00. That's more than 1/5 of their schooling.
But I wasn't born there-I have to keep telling myself that. I can't mentally punish myself for something that I couldn't control-something so much as to what country I was born in. And they can't either. Poor to them is normal. I walk away amazed how they're happy with how small they have then I loathe everything I have.. But I think they wouldn't like this life. Maybe I'm wrong. And I could be.
I've started painting again. I think it's helping. Even if I can't get out the emotions right then that are overwhelming.. It helps me to focus on something else. It's been good. And I've been talking about Cambodia more. It doesn't seem so traumatizing now. I am speaking at the missions committee meeting this Wednesday, so I will see what happens. But I'm not scared anymore after I talked with Sarah for a long time about Cambodia. It's a place I've come to love. I want to return.
I'm not the same. Not at all. Someone told me once that short term missions don't change people.. But I don't agree. I look at the world differently. I think differently. I look at myself differently. I love differently. I will say that this is the only one out of six mission trips I've been on that have ever had this effect on me. I think it had something to do with not being with the youth group. I'm glad I wasn't with them.
When I first came back, I said I would go back right then. But now.. I want to go back to school. Plus, my heart can't take the difference in worlds right now. I need to breathe. I need to stop being tired or my heart and mind being pulled in two completely different directions.
My teammate, Kathleen, wrote this: "Do you want me to tell you something really subversive? Love is everything it’s cracked up to be. That’s why people are so cynical about it. It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for. And the trouble is… if you don’t risk everything, you risk even more."
It's risky business to love someone, but risk I shall.
