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.
