Sunday, March 21, 2010

Journal Entry

Is God calling me to do something that I'm uncomfortable with? Or am I simply entertaining the idea of Holland because I know it will work??? MAA excites me; Holland scares me. Terrifies me. Petrifies me. Am I a Jonah running from the islands?

This world is not my home!! But can't I still be happy here? I attribute happiness and bubbliness and energy to my character; when it's gone, I feel like I'm gone, like I'm a liar. I hate lying almost as much as I hate not-knowing.

Friday, March 12, 2010

Pre-Update #5

To All, (I figure this greeting is all-encompassing)

Here's a riddle: How could a long day of rain and dreariness and darkness still end with a campus covered with happy, giggly (yes, college students giggle) people?

Answer: Spring Break begins today. Oh happy day.

The end.

Not really. Here's the part of the children's story where I share the moral and it's easy to drift off into I-wonder-what-color-socks-she'
s-wearing? land. You are by far the most pre-updated group of people in life; so many emails about nothing in particular happening...thankfully you now have the "unsubscribe" option.

The update: It's been 5 weeks and 2 days since I received General Conference approval of my Adventist Volunteers application, with call interests prioritized (#1 dean in Norway, #2 1st/2nd grade teacher in Micronesia, #3 H.S. science teacher in Micronesia). "Please allow at
least 2 weeks for processing." In Jessica's quantitative and literal mind, 2 weeks and 1 day is at least two weeks. 3 weeks is DEFINITELY at least two weeks. Get to 5? Oofta. Doubt begins to enter Jess' mind: Are these choices correct? Is Norway for me? I think I'm holding this life map upside-down . . .

So I talked with a friend/former SM/wise adviser who has a myriad of helpful connections, and she shared all sorts of her own experiences that sounded freakishly like my own. AND she has a friend who had been an SM at the same school my application listed. Yes! First-hand stories at my fingertips.

That was Wednesday. It's Thursday. Wednesday was warm and sunny. Thursday's kinda rainy and gross.

Norway (not the whole country, just the missions coordinators or whomever they are over there . . . I dub them "Norway") has filled all of their position postings with staff. Yep. No need for student missionaries this time! So I'm back to looking for a place to need me. I know that there are lots of them (choices! Agh!); I've simply bumped up my #2 & #3 to #1 & #2. Now it's just a matter of waiting. Which I should be getting pretty good at. Waiting to know where this road's taking me; waiting to see the future.

God made the world round so we would never be able to see too far down the road. (Isak Dinesen)

The future is the one thing that I can truly say that I fear. It doesn't simply scare me, but downright freaks me out; I've had anxiety and cold sweats upon the thought of the future on more than one occasion. Planning and plotting and knowing what my course in the days to come has been my way of protecting myself from the future, to somehow trick it into becoming the present. I often see how things will play out in my head, like a movie. I look down from my unbelievably high bunk and envision what would happen if I did happen
to take a tumble, down to the detail of what type of crutches I'd get. I run through scenarios, replaying them with different responses and reactions until I get it just right, like flipping through a Choose Your Own Story book. The future is like the hairy, smelly beast that
lurks in the closet – you're fine with it once your parents tell you it's gone, but there comes a time when you have to open the door yourself, and it's scary. Especially when you know said beast has a shaggy mane and halitosis.

So I'm keeping that door open. The beast and I are coming to terms; it's agreed to comb and floss, and I've agreed to treat it like it's there, to stop ignoring it.

Riddle: How can a hairy, smelly beast help you grow?
Answer: I'm working on a case study. Allow at least two weeks for processing.