Tired and empty places.

As I was driving back from Westminster and Mt. Gilead seeing Katie, and the Jareds, I had a sudden rush of sentiment for certain areas of my life that I passed by. I had the urge to listen to my worship music in the parking lot of my old church and watch the sun on the horizon. I guess I just wanted to relive some old chapters. But alas, as I drove past, I viewed a few men waving their hands to me and I hesitated and did not turn into the parking lot. Mind you I was driving about 50 miles per hour at the time so it did not necessarily look awkward.
I did not turn in because I wanted solace and the presence of the men in the parking lot regardless of whether I knew them or not, made me change my mind.
My old church I believe abandoned me. When I was crying out for an authentic community of united believers, everyone scattered. No one said anything and no one seemed to truly show that their faith was their own. When I was struggling, people did not come alongside me to walk with me in my struggles. It turns out I was right about a lot of things. Pastoral changes, church members including my family left and never came back. The congregation has since dwindled to maybe a handful of people.

My second foray into my past came as I was passing my old high school. Here I actually stopped. I decided that the novelty of the worship music i had had run its course and it was time to get rid of it. I had this strange rationalization that maybe if I left it somewhere public, like a school, it could be picked up by someone and hopefully incite some inspiration.
As I walked to the old choir room that I used to attend, I noticed pictures on the bulletin board outside of it. Pictures all from the 2008 graduating class as opposed to my class of 2007. I felt a slight bit of discontent for the recognition of that particular group without a visual mention of ours. My senior choir got the top award in our regional competition. 3 years of dedication to the program and there is nothing to show for it.

I regret both of these slight incidents.

These are all vague descriptions and all the details are left unsaid. I do not know why but I guess what I mean to say is that these chapters of my life: High school, my old church, they are over and will remain that way.

This is why I love Simpson, because it is truly the first place where I have felt like I belong, and I am sure I will miss it when I leave.

"You've had your chance so say goodbye, say goodbye"

Tahoe.

Mountains.  I sang Coldplay on top of a mountain it's epic.  OH and my brother is home to hang out with me.  That is very cool because he is 5 years older than me and much more mature. Oh the wonders of sibling rivalry.

"A brother shows you who you are and who you are not"

Summer part 3 (what's in my head)

It is coming and the apprehension, anticipation, and excitement is creating a twisted form of nervousness having never felt before.  All I can seem to do is pray.  

I plan on making some changes to my bedroom and moving most of my stuff in the small room.  I am tired of the big one.  Mainly because I am tired of decadence.  Someone just take all this crap off my back.  Too much junk.

One of the biggest things that always, always stresses me out is that my house is full of stuff.  Useless stuff.  Stuff Wal-mart and Amazon lied to you about.  Telling you that you needed it.  Big lies.  I hate stuff and yet I am surrounded by stuff.  The worst part is that I cannot seem to make my mother understand that I am tired of stuff.  I will only state when I need something and that is a very rare occasion. alas, when i return from the Philippines, I will have a new mission.  Beginning the ending of the familiarity of home.  The first step that seems easiest for me is moving into the spare bedroom.  Honestly, my bedroom is bigger than a simpson dorm room.  It is a choice I have already made.  I have even refused to sleep in my big bed because of the decadence I perceive in it.  

Yes I am insane but understand that it is the only way I can truly move to where I feel I need to be.

(I hate all the orphan children in the world...I love all the orphan children in the world...I love you guys) - Dan Montecinos