brewed thoughts, storms, and coffee beans

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IT’S ALMOST SUMMER.

coffee...explanation later
our table




my interest in school





















Clearly, I'm ready.
I’m ready to be in showers that are clean. Showers where I’m not cupping water and trying to rinse unknown hairs or boogers off the shower walls. I’m ready to be warm and get really good at bowling with my nanny boys. And eat way too much Red Mango. I’m ready for swimsuits and late nights and cookouts. I’m ready to wake up on a Sunday morning and see my dad reading the newspaper in his boxers. I’m ready for sass fights with my mom. I’m ready for my brothers to yell at me from the bathroom that they need more toilet paper, and to bring the plunger.

I almost didn’t live at home this summer. But something brought me back.
Maybe it’s the fact that my mom has this obsession with making blueberry muffins. Maybe it’s the fact that this is the last “kid” summer that will end with school supply shopping and back-to-school clothes. Maybe it’s that I’ve really missed my little brother.
And living at home is free. Call me not adventurous. Call me a moocher. Call me immature.
But I’m not just ready to leave home…yet. Adulthood can come next year when I get to post my “I just finished my last homework assignment EVER” facebook status and grab my diploma from Dr. Eckman (OH CRAP, I mean Dr…Barnes..what?) and waltz off that stage like I know what I’m doing, when really I have no idea what I’m doing, and I will probably just be concerned about not falling off said stage.
Part of me wants to travel the world and do the things that I couldn’t do during college. Things like World Race, Boston Project, and long-term missions trips are coming to mind. My great aunt and uncle live on Cape Cod…think they’d let me rent a room and hire me to be a gardener/maid/boat keeper? That is storyline material for a movie! I would definitely fall in love with a Boston boy with an accent and a tan, and our dates would be way more awesome than pedestrian bridges and ConAgra:
He is sooooooo sweet he took me to the pedestrian bridge and I stood in two places at once just like Mandy Moore and Shane West so that must mean its fate oh my gosh now I can actually plan all the things I pinned on Pinterest in real life come here all my Grace sisters and lets scream and hug.
Cynicism alert…woah. I’ll be better. Promise. And someone once told me that it’s not what  you do, it’s who  you do it with. So I’m sure the pedestrian bridge/ConAgra date wouldn’t be that bad…
with an accented, tanned Boston boy!
our first date
SAILBOATS MAKE ME CRY HAPPINESS

people live here
boston in the freaking fall!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
lighthouses aaaaaaaaa
I’m in a weird mood. And I haven’t even drank…haven’t even drunk?.......I didn’t drink coffee this morning. If you haven’t tried coffee, it’s something I would recommend. It makes the blood running through your veins not feel like blood anymore. It makes it feel like fire. Or chemical X from the PowerPuff girls. Or like being on Invincible mode in MarioKart. With background music and everything.
What am I doing.
This blog is headed nowhere fast, and I am staring out my window at the cold, wet world, realizing that my car is a complete disaster and I need to go shopping today and get a final done.
Sometimes my life feels like this exact blog. Random things, no real direction, pointless jokes and awkward thoughts. And I catch myself asking, “What am I doing?” I often wonder what is going on. Heck, what is God doing?? In fact, I would bet large amounts of my hard-earned piano teaching money that is being saved up to buy a new car when Mercedes makes good on her numerous threats to actually fall apart that I ask that question daily.
Hey, God, fill me in. Because I don’t get it and when I don’t get things, I lose motivation. And when I lose motivation, I drink coffee. And when I drink coffee, the entire world is at risk of utter disaster.
So I’m about to pack my bags and tell my final that it can follow me to Boston if it wants. But I know I’m not supposed to be there. I know my heart is somehow with this small university that no one knows about. My mission is not to save the world, or be swooped up by Boston boys. I think those things are too grand for me to handle right now. I think God wants to see what I’ll do with Grace. This small  and seemingly insignificant (especially in light of what some missionaries are doing around the world) assignment of praying for a campus of 300 undergrads and working to push them more into the will of the Father is my calling right now  and if I can do that, maybe He’ll take me around the world. Or to Boston. If I can’t do this, I definitely can’t do a World Race.
So I’ll sit here in nippy Nebraska and dig my hands in the soil of this school. And I’m okay with that. How dare I be bored here when there are hearts that need to be challenged and people that need to be reached?  This year is my last year with the tiny campus that I love and desire to see glorifying Him so badly. And then who knows what He’ll do. He may keep me here, teaching 160 fingers how to play the piano. Or He may ship me off somewhere, for a project bigger and harder and much, much scarier.
In which case I’ll probably say,
“GOD WHAT ARE YOU DOING. I CAN’T DO THIS.”
Sorry, Whit. You played that card when you were bored and waiting. Let’s go…..
 …and leave the coffee in Omaha.

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