Yet It Remains

Today I'm playing hooky from the first day of classes back from spring break.
Sitting beneath a blowing fan in an air-conditioned home in San Antonio, Texas.
Hoping the inches of snow piled up in Indiana will be melted by the time my flight rolls in later tonight.
55 days until I am an official Bethel graduate.
Many hours of reading and pages of writing in the meantime.

It's been nice not having much of a care these past 9 days. Nothing to turn in. No reason to hit my snooze button 47 times before waking up. Eating way too much Blue Bell ice cream with the excuse that I can't get it up in Indiana. Real life continues on, and though it's been a much needed time of rest and refreshment, I'm ready to jump back in. To the good, to the bad, to the ugly - I know it's all waiting for me.

Anxiety. It's made a home for itself beneath my skin. 
Irritating it is and mostly unwelcome. 
I feel it in my chest. 

I know I haven't been created to bear the weight of worry. Yet it remains, so what do I do? I find myself in an utterly uncertain season of life, while at the same time I could overflow with excitement at any moment. Lord, I look to You. (2 Chronicles 20:12)

Last year's spring break was the best time of my life. Over 70 hours of road trip across the country with two of my favorite people. A blizzard. A hawaiian worship set. New friends. New encounters with the Lord. The Nook Diaries. Rescuing a FedEx truck from driving off a cliff. Elk Steak. Swing Dancing. Mountains. Too many cooler turkey sandwiches, sour patch kids sugar highs, and the best adventure travel music one could ask for. THIS spring break (that technically I am still on), couldn't compare even if.... well, ever. No future sermon illustrations from wacky adventures, but that's okay. A lot of down time was in the order for this time around, and there are no complaints from this girl.

PS - I started reading a book that mysteriously appeared in the mail with my name of it a few months ago, though I did not order it. It's called The Release of the Spirit by Watchman Nee. Give 'er a read, and perhaps we can speak words about it.