Fact #54

Proactive preparation actually does work.


It's unfortunate, because I am just realizing this now.

Currently, I have just responsibly completed one of the assignments I have due before my J-term class, "Practices of the Minister."  This is not what Other Ashley would do.  We'll call Other Ashley....Darla.  Darla is a brat.  Darla always gets her way.  Darla lives by Ecclesiastes 3:9, without the context.  Darla tells me that Ashley will get the homework done in time, that she's responsible and honest, but for now, doesn't watching Toddlers and Tiaras with Darla sound more fun?  And she always wins.

But not this time!  I have prevailed!  I am on top of things!

Minus Christmas preparation.

Shit.

Fact #53

Writer's block on finals week is directly proportional to the length of the ABC Harry Potter marathon.


Having a really, really hard time concentrating on my final papers tonight.  I have been having a great deal of difficulty concentrating on anything, really.

To know me, and mean truly, deeply know me, is to know that I love stories.  A well-crafted story, real or imagined, captures me more than anything, especially lately, in an environment that appears to find them senseless...a waste of time.  Sometimes I have to write something down that happened that day, because it felt like it happened so perfectly, it was scripted.

The beginning of mine and Allen's friendship, for example.  I left our dorm around 2 am to meet up with a boy, a member of my drama team, who I was concerned about getting along with.  We were both very stubborn.  Before I left, Bethany asked me if it was wise of me to go, to meet with a boy, let alone a boy I didn't very much like, at so late an hour on a campus notorious for gossip.  I shrugged.  "It feels like a God thing.  Like we'll be friends for a long time after this."  The rest, for lack of better phrase, is history.

I feel like I'm drying up in a world that lacks a sense of whimsy.  Or adventure, for that matter.  I'm not promoting recklessness or a childish response to reality.  Maturity is important, absolutely.  But I don't think adulthood and maturity are synonymous with one another.  In fact, I'm beginning to believe adulthood is a fallacy, created by society to trick us into believing an age bracket makes us mature and gives us certain liberties.  Suddenly, potentially harmful activities are for "adults only."  Adult language, adult beverages, adult stores...why is any of it necessary?

So I return to my stories, where morals are clear and friendship is lasting.  And I bolster myself to create my own, regardless of the skeptical looks and rolled eyes and shaking heads.

Where do you see God working?

I feel like he is altering my perspective on the world.  Thing that were important, are suddenly nauseating to think about.

What do you hear God saying?

"You're a spark.  Don't lose your light."

How do you see God working?

Unsure again.  Sometimes I feel him prompting to speak out on certain things, or in specific situations.  When I do, I meet resistance.  Usually propelled by fear.  When I don't, I leave frustrated regardless.  I feel stuck in the mud.

Fact #52

There is something incredibly satisfying about making a meal out of whatever you have. 


Money seems to be a huge concern lately.  I feel like God's highlighting it specifically this week, like He's saying, "Still trust me? Now? Now? Do you?"                                       
It has been increasingly frustrating, however, having to watch friend after friend after friend get engaged. We had planned on being engaged by now, but had to put our dreams on hold when Allen's dad passed.  It's understandable, it would have been a huge insult to go ahead with it regardless of the tragedy.  But now the financial end of that trial is whipping Allen as if he's never been on top of his finances (this is sarcasm, Allen is a bigger workaholic than I am).  It's even more frustrating when they started dating after Allen and I, infidelity is known, or they've been on and off for years.  Judgmental.  I know.  But it's really hard not to become increasingly discouraged with each engagement.  My best friend just texted me after reading about two others' engagements to tell me that her and her boyfriend are recently planning on being married next fall.  When Allen and I were planning on getting married.  And they've been dating seven months less than we have.

Again, I get it.  Length of said relationship does not dictate the severity and strength of said relationship.  It cannot testify to what one is feeling called to do.  But I'd be misrepresenting my spiritual boot camp here if I didn't say that I called Allen crying after I received the text.  It hurt.  I was mad at her, mad at God, mad at everything and everyone.  I was also on my period, which I now refer to as "Shark Week" (see link).  

It's stretching me, it's growing me, but is also exhausting me.  Allen finally ceded to the idea of getting my engagement ring at an estate sale or pawn shop.  We argued for a long time about it; he was worried it wouldn't be good enough for my parents, or that some day I'd be embarrassed to wear it.  He now understands that I am just not a fan of the rings being produced in popular jewelry stores, they're not my style, nor do they go with anything I own, and I like things that have a story.  He admitted that buying an expensive ring for me was a pride issue.  I admitted that wanting a cheap ring was to rush the process of getting into his pants.  We compromised, him agreeing to look through pawn shops, antique stores, and estate sales, and me allowing him to make the final search, decision, and purchase.  All is well.

Still, I feel it gnawing on the back of my mind.  I feel like an adult in a child-sized relationship.  We have a home, we have jobs, we have simplistic but sufficient security (food, clothing, utilities)...the only thing we lack is the ability to pay for some societal baubles and a ceremony.  

When I get angry lately, I have to cook something.  I don't always eat it.  A lot of the time I store it for lunch for work the next day.  But I feel the need to prepare something, anything.  Use my resources in a productive way.  This waiting for something I can't fix makes me feel like I'm not a good enough Christian woman.  I feel like every other unmarried Christian woman I've met is constantly saying, "Oh, some day.  I'm content in the waiting.  Resting in God is so very satisfying."  All I want to respond with is, "Allow me to call you on your bullshit."  

I don't think I can chop these onions any smaller.

Where do you see God working?

Patience.  Always patience.

What do you hear God saying?

"You're out of onions.  Now what?"

How do you see God working?

Giving us alternatives, prompting people to give Allen extra work.