Lily

I don't know what to write.
But I know I want to.
I can feel that I have something to say to you...
but the words aren't coming.

I left work today. Finally Friday. Two weeks of school, two tests, a pop quiz down... three months to go. I think financial aid might be the death of me. I headed to campus today to take care of some more of the deadly stuff, only to find out that it would take four more weeks to see any amount of money. I wonder how I will manage to come up with tuition in three weeks? I'm trying not to think about it. Things always have a way of working themselves out. Why do I worry?

I found myself frustrated this afternoon. I went to Wal-Mart to check out their paltry selection of film (in a digital world... 400 speed Kodak film is a rarity). Film and chapstick. I left the store, feeling itchy with aggravation. I got in the car and pulled out of the parking lot. And couldn't remember why I felt this way. Why was I frustrated? What had happened?

I drove to Winchester. Praying the whole way that I would be able to rid myself of this weird anxiety. I drove past dozens of places I wanted to stop and take pictures... but I kept driving. I went to ballet class with Olivia tonight. I watched her stretch before class. Mesmorized by the way her ankles moved... by the flexibility of her back. Loving the way she is gentle with my guilty conscience (Anna, you need to take your shoes off.... Anna, you can't have gum in the studio). She is beautiful. I went into her class to try and get some "action" shots. I don't know what I was expecting. But I stood against the back mirror and watched the girls on the bar... listening to Hannah call positions and talk about "fluid movements". I held the camera in my hand, but only took one picture. I was enthralled. The rhythm of it... the way they all knew when the step back and watch, when to move their feet, when to look at themselves in the mirror. An art. A science. I was proud to call her my sister.

Tuesday night I went out with an old friend. I was nervous... I didn't really know anything about her present situation, how she felt about our social ties, or if she really wanted to even spend time with me. I met her at her house, put my wet clothes in her dryer (because, sadly, my dryer is broken), and we went out. We spent four hours together. Laughing. Talking. I had sworn not to mention any of the subjects that might be taboo (her boyfriend, church, God, Georgia, etc). Instead, I had every intention of just loving her. Mainly because I know that is what I need. That is what we all need. Just someone to love us. But it wasn't up to me. We sat down and she poured out her heart. Looking at me at one point and letting me know how much she had missed me... and how much she appreciated me. Where did that come from? She also looked at me and grinned really big. "I know I've got game," she shrugged. "It's probably not okay for me to say that. But I think I'm fabulous. I mean really awesome." She didn't think that was okay to say. I reassured her, I think it is. I also think it's true. We are going to the UK/EKU football game tomorrow. She is going to church with me on Sunday night. Do you want to know why I believe that being a Christian is about loving people? This is why.

Bryan asked us at CSF the other night to tell the other students sitting around us what the "craziest" thing was that we'd done since college started. I counted backwards. Two years now. How many crazy things? I think zero. That made me sad. I'm not talking about hoodlum, illegal, trouble-making craziness. I'm just talking about the stuff of stories. The stuff you tell your kids when they get old enough to listen. I couldn't think of anything, feeling trumped by Liza who had left home not once, but twice. Silly thing to think about. Craziness is probably not premeditated. Just a guess.

Got the feeling the other night that I really was starting to be comfortable with myself. I've met more people in the past few weeks... been more likely to shake a hand and ask for a name than ever before. Smile. Always remember to smile. Apparently my smile is more like a smirk. (I've made a mental note to work on that). But I think I've caught a glimpse of who I am... found a "spot" to be myself.

I'm thinking about quitting my job at the gym.

I'm thinking about moving into an apartment with Liza.

I'm trying to learn how to take fast action and depth of field photographs.

I'm trying to understand the Bohr model and why anyone would think that abortion is humane... (let's not go into that, but it is a pressing question of mine).

I think I'm going kayaking on Monday.

Thank God for holiday weekends.

All of that nonsense to say... I am not really sure why I ever worry. When I look at my bank account and stress about bills, wish I had the funds for a trip or a computer; or when I look at my poor Corolla and make a mental note to replace the duct tape and the driver's side blinker... I try and remind myself. He says not to worry, because aren't even the lilies of the field dressed beautifully? Doesn't He care about even the smallest sparrow? And what do they do to earn their clothes? Nothing. God provides for them... even the lilies.