Heavens to Betsy. Where to begin? Is it April? What was I talking about last time?
Oh, yes. Suicide. How very, very appropriate. Not entirely sure how to follow that.
Perhaps with this: all of life begins (or ends) with a choice. Sometimes it's a little difficult to see this, but I randomly (well, divinely) met a wonderful woman in the Lansing airport a few months ago and she constantly reminds people of the difference between just existing and choosing to exist a certain way. She chooses to live her life with gratitude and high expectations of a God that she truly believes to be great. So do I.
As a small-scale similarity, today I decided to wake up, get some things done, and look hot. Like, H-O-T hot. Because I wanted volume on a cloudy day. I wanted the black-and-white grit and grind of my own personal strut. I had to get out of the sweat pants for a hot second. After a week like this one, when everything was planned by the hour and then, like a distracted and saturated sponge, I had every liquid detail squeezed out of me over three separate and unequal exams...the pleather just had to come out.
On a slightly less silly note, life has been revolving around my choices, lately. Not because I've been ignoring whatever God might have to say about my life (ohhh, boy. Quite the contrary.) but because it's been Rejection Month or Crisis Month or Conniption Month or, I suppose, the Becca-Freaks-Out-Because-She-Thinks-Her-Plans-Are-Falling-Through-And-Impulsively-Makes-Ten-Billion-Separate-Plans-That-Somehow-Connect-In-Her-Wildly-Spinning-Mind-And-Accidentally-Realizes-That-She-Really-Didn't-Have-To-Think-That-Hard Month.
What a mouthful. Or--month-ful.
Because in the midst of fasting for 34 hours and taking a barefoot run on Paddy's day with a wonderful, wonderful friend and just dumping out the fact that I was scared of this or that happening, that I thought I had this or that planned, that I hate to be toyed with, that I have no desire to go back to Ireland this summer, that I can't live there yet, that I can't realize that my heart is there when I need it here, that I want another research astrophysics job, yada yada yada...I discovered...wait. What DID I discover?
I think it was something like this:
I discovered wisdom.
I discovered the purity of a Christ-centered conversation.
I discovered the clarity of a logic-centered conversation.
I discovered a new way to feel alive.
I discovered that my impulses are not ALL intelligent things to jump on.
I discovered that I need to shut up. Shut up, don't plan, don't connect irrelevant ties...just listen.
Because when the time comes, I'll be hit in the face with a two-by-four of obvious. As per usual.
Oh, like the time a couple of days later when I landed a research astrophysics job.
Like the time I found some phenomenal new friends to share my life with.
Like the time I stopped worrying so much.
Like time time I stopped fasting out of desperation, and remembered fasting out of, well, pure faith, I guess.
Like the time I realized that I am always where I need to be. (Thanks, The Kooks.)
Seriously. I am. And I'm not a complete failure. I fall constantly, but I choose to live life as a conquerer and blood-bought saint. Because I am.
Side note: I guess I'm also a good enough teacher to get this little gem from my students:
Yeah. I don't deserve them. My students are the reason that I love my job.
On that note, and many others, I declare war against animosity. Against mediocrity. Against failure. Against selfishness. Against me, for me.