Oh, hey. It’s been a while.

Don’t we all love personal crises? Man. I do. 😀

Anyway.

Thought I would chime in with some thoughts and some updates.

UPDATES: I met my deadline for May!!! (Don’t know if I already told you that, but I’m saying it again.) I haven’t written a post due to a small crisis of both life and literature. Currently my school bill is needing to be weeded down, and Tuesday, the day I had planned to write, got shot down due to stress to the maximum, and then I ran into a plot problem that same day. The mental capacity it took to untangle TWO CHAPTERS worth of problem (OH MY GOSH SO MUCH *sarcasm*) destroyed what little cognitive cooperation my brain had left to give me after a paralyzing moment of dread. (By the way, being on new medication for one’s OCD does not help this situation.)

Then on Wednesday, feeling a bit better, I thought until 5 PM that it was Tuesday. I went to Portland with my cousin and by the time we were on the way back, my brother called me asking where I was, and I gave him the appropriate response (which was not to swear at him, mind you, you scalawag. I love you. You make me smile.) He asked if I was coming to Caleb’s–my youngest brother’s–graduation at 6, and I told him, “Yeah…that’s on the fourth.” And he said, “IT IS THE FOURTH.” And I proceeded to have an attack of oh-sh*t mental paralytics. We were an hour-and-a-half away from my hometown and driving as fast as we could to get back.

Grace and I speed into the parking lot once we get there (after 20 minutes of heart-stopping traffic delays an hour from home) and we sprint into the high school, me leading the way, and (after saying hello to the bewildered janitor we almost stampeded over) RUN to the gym. Gym’s empty. We run to the auditorium, and I hear applause, and I think, DAMN WE MISSED IT I AM THE MOST IRRESPONSIBLE SISTER AND HE’LL HATE ME FOREVER *insert long-winded rant of self-deprecation*. We get into the back of the auditorium, and I hear the first name called out is: McKay. And then M-E-something. They were handing out the diplomas, and we had slipped into the back just in time for me to watch Caleb (at “Schesser”) celebrate the earning of his GED. I was a hollow, walking automaton for the rest of the night, due to sheer relief.

I think that’s it for updates and stories of stress. I feel like I had some thoughts the other day and I forgot to write them down, so one moment please, while I connect you to your intended party.

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I wrote in my most recent chapter that between moments in time, we suffer an infinity that feels like its own fold of reality, something that is and yet isn’t, that will be and yet may not be. I feel like, more than anything, that one piece of a 20-page chapter is what I keep being drawn to every time I think about the prose within the pages. The entirety of life for me right now is transposed between moments, like space-time has smooshed together to create a fold of in-between that I tread as carefully as I would had I entered a mine field where I knew every location of every mine.

The problem is that sometimes we step on the mines nonetheless. That can blow us off course–way off course–and I almost sailed into different waters on Tuesday. I almost denied myself the privilege of doing exactly what I knew I needed to be doing, and that’s what I’m doing RIGHT NOW: trusting that God will make everything okay instead of saying He doesn’t know any better and plotting my own course apart from Him, lying to myself that He’s the One who told me to take such-and-such a route when I know otherwise. I’m not a big fan of dishonesty, especially to myself, because if I can’t be honest with myself and with God, then forget me trying to tell the truth to anyone in the human race at all…ever.

I’m transposed into a space between moments. I’m waiting for what I know is coming and still trying to plug away at what I’m doing right now. At this moment. In this minute. Because for all I know, space-time may decide to start un-bunching and send me flying into the future faster than I can say “Jack Robinson.” I suppose that’s what transposing is for, though. To make us prepare and have our muscles coiled and ready to spring for what we know is coming, rather than sitting back and landing unceremoniously on our faces after being thrust into the sky by surprise. Does transposition suck? Sometimes. But now that I think about it, that’s what faith is for.

“Faith never knows where it is being led, but it loves and knows the One Who is leading.” –Oswald Chambers

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