Fullness

I'm a bit of an insomniac lately. Surprise, surprise.... I do go through these sleepless periods pretty regularly. I think I'm pretty alright right now, though.

I just wanted to blog quickly while I was still feeling this way. I feel FULL today. It's good. Not food full, just, hmmm... God full, perhaps. Blessed might be a way to say the same thing, only it's more than that. It's contentment, blessing, and acknowledgment of blessing all at once. There's more, I just can't put words to it.

We saw Shane Claiborne speak this morning, and it was really good - this challenge to be a different kind of __________. I guess right now, a different kind of unemployed graduate student. Ha, ha. After that, R., E., and I went into Philly to hang out a bit (and miss peak hours). We got some ice cream at Reading Terminal Market - three scoops split three ways - and sat on a bench outside to enjoy it. There was good conversation and good ice cream: two wonderful things.
Then we headed out to Fishtown to have dinner at J. and A.'s house. They have a sweet dog who was super excited to see us. Burritos were great (yay, Hispanic food!) and so was the conversation.
We walked to Circle of Hope, where, for a moment, I felt like I was not cool enough. That feeling faded pretty quickly though - it was unlike any service I've ever attended before. It felt really fresh and really - inclusive. There was a rawness that I appreciate, and we met some cool people, including another Mission Year alum. (Whoot!) After that, the long train ride home to Wayne.

Oh, but I feel good. It's good to see these churches, to connect with people who want something bigger, you know?
I guess I'm realizing how much I needed to be shaken out of my comfort. I remember before I left for Mission Year, I sat down and told God: "I don't want to be comfortable." Last fall, I said the same thing again. I could feel myself getting sucked into the steadiness, the stability, the one-place-for-a-long-time thing, and I knew I didn't want that. But it's a hard thing to fight. I often think that humans can adapt to just about anything - we settle in. It feels good to be shaking out of that and stepping out into something different and big and uncertain.

Both R. and E. mentioned it today, and I have to agree: it's these blind steps that remind us that we don't get to call the shots, and even when we think we are, we really aren't. It's a good place to be, though.