time.

tick-tock goes the clock in my life.
i haven't done a great many things.
and i haven't really done great things.
but i wish to.
i was just thinking about how i haven't seen things that i wish to see.
i haven't even had a vacation in longer than a year...i've been working and working since i got my wells fargo job. i haven't had more than 2 days off at a time. this i find to be ridiculous. am i waiting for someone to schedule a vacation FOR me? apparently, yes.
i'm sitting here, seeing where all my friends are now, where they may be going, all the things that are constantly changing in their lives, lives filled with excitement.
and then here i am, sitting in my desolate fort wayne apartment, taking my next "adventurous" step to carmel, indiana. have i not said that i'm NOT a fan of indiana? i make plans that never come to fruition, and then i sit here make ridiculously depressing posts about how i wish, how i hope, how i want.
i have this poem that i wrote the very day before katie died, talking about the sound of the african drum and the pulling of my heartstrings to a foreign world.

i'm pretty sure i just make things a lot harder than necessary. i used to not be that way. i used to not think all the time. i used to be a little kid. why do i need an apartment, a car and insurance payment, a cell phone...
and it all boils down to time. and what is most important.
i want to experience life, not just watch it slip past.

child-likeness

so, today after work, like any other day when i want to treat myself, i stopped into starbucks, a)to get out of the unrelenting heat and b)to get a delicious mocha frappuccino. as i was enjoying the cool of their chilled ac, i heard a little child whimpering in his stroller. i didn't need to look at the menu because i knew exactly what i wanted, so i searched for the anxious toddler. and of course this was just an ordinary child, maybe 2 years old. and his mother was standing at the back of the stroller, looking up at what to order, not leaving the child alone, but out of his sight line. and he continued whimpering, looking around, making hard lefts and rights in his seat. and then his mother came up beside him, ready to order; and he saw just a small piece of the hem in her pants, and he quieted instantly.
now usually i wouldn't think much about this, but because everything in my life right now is in upheaval, it really grabbed my attention. i am that little child, wishing that i could just get a glimpse of God's hem in the corner of my eye, wishing i could see Him, have Him right beside me, comforting me, within hug's reach. but the whole time, right now, He's right behind me. He's making sure i'm ok, even though i am looking hard left and right and can't see Him at this very second. He's not going to steer me in the wrong direction. i just have to trust and hold my heart like that of a child.