Breakaway

Grew up in a small town

And when the rain would fall down

I'd just stare out my window

Dreaming of what could be

And If I'd end up happy

I would pray

Trying hard to reach out

But when I'd try to speak out

Felt like no one could hear me

Wanted to belong here

But something felt so wrong here

So I'd pray I could breakaway

I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly

I'll do what it takes 'till I touch the sky

Gonna make a wish

Take a chance

Make a change

And breakaway

Out of the darkness and into the sun

I won't forget all the ones that I love

I'll take a risk

Take a chance

Make a change

And breakaway

Wanna feel the warm breeze

Sleep under a palm tree

Feel the rush of the ocean

Get on board a fast train

Travel on a jet plane

Far away

And breakaway

I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly

I'll do what it takes 'till I touch the sky

Gonna make a wish

Take a chance

Make a change

And breakaway

Out of the darkness and into the sun

I won't forget all the ones that I love

I'll take a risk

Take a chance

Make a change

And breakaway

Buildings with a hundred floors

Swinging 'round revolving doors

Maybe I don't know where they'll take me but

I gotta keep moving on

Moving on

Fly away

Breakaway

I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly

Though it's not easy to tell you goodbye

Gotta take a risk

Take a chance

Make a change

And breakaway

Out of the darkness and into the sun

I won't forget the place I come from

Gotta take a risk

Take a chance

Make a change

And breakaway

Breakaway

Breakaway...

Yesterday I was in my third day of working at the warehouse. It's been surprising to me how much I missed it. I've been able to move around, converse, and listen to music for 9-10 hours until close to midnight. It's been very different working the night shift, but at the same time, who cares? It's a job, and I've already worked 30 hours this week. That, my friends, is a blessing.

Anyway, I'm off track from what I really want to share. While my iPod was on shuffle, it played Kelly Clarkson's Breakaway, a song that I hadn't listened to in a while. It's funny, because this particular song was one that I listened to before I left Missouri and felt - just knew - that this was a sign that the Lord wanted me out of the state. One of my good friends said to me after I told her about my desire to move and had her listen to this song, "Dude, it's like God is speaking to you through Kelly Clarkson!" And really, the more I listen to it, the more it's like she was right.

I told this to another friend of mine, and she told me not to jump to conclusions. "Don't let yourself become manipulated because you're hearing something you really want in different things." That's a paraphrase, but I remember feeling hurt when she said that. It's a good thing to say, I know, but at the time I didn't realize that I really was hearing what I was supposed to be doing. It didn't happen right away, so in the two years that I was waiting to move, this song lost it's place in my life. Now here we are, one year later, and I'm hearing it again like it's the first time.

That's one of the things I adore about God. So many different ways to communicate.

So here I am, having broken away from my small town (still wondering if I'll end up happy) seeing those buildings with one hundred floors, miles away from the nearest palm tree but closer to the rush of the ocean... and I wonder why I didn't listen to this when I drove off on March 4th, 2010. (Probably because I'd bawl my eyes out before I got anywhere.) It's been a major encouragement to me for years and now here it is, as wonderfully refreshing as it was three years ago. Listening to it now, I'm virtually rendered a rambling idiot. I doubt this is the last breakaway I'll make in my life...

But that's a thought for another time. For now... this.

Is this what it's like?

I first heard the news through Facebook. It was late in the evening, Carly talking to herself as she fought the evil minions of Gannondorf, and I killing time before I took myself to bed. I saw a friend had posted an article, and suddenly, the whimsical feel of the evening faded as fast as a breath.

7.4. Two numbers that gave me pause barely had time to create any impact before two more did just as well a job.

8.9.

I can't remember the last time I felt absolutely frantic over a natural disaster. I desperately hunted for a news feed, anything that could give me constant update on what was going on in my beloved nation of Japan. Tokyo had been hit. What had happened to Tokyo? What other places where affected? Why don't I have a map of this nation with all of these prefectures memorized so this all doesn't sound so confusing? Why don't I have these places memorized yet?

Why do I care so little about a place I love so much?

Do those questions sound familiar? Looking back, I realize a lot of them sound the same when used in relation to someone we know who has passed away. Why don't I know more about it? Why didn't I try harder? What else happened? Why didn't I care enough?

For a split second it seemed like I was overreacting. I've never been to this beautiful nation, only admired all of the pictures of the majestic Mount Fuji and the countryside littered with cherry blossoms. I probably won't be going there any time soon. I don't even know anyone there. There was no one to worry about.

Except, in my mind, there was defiance to all of those statements. Japan has been a nation that's captured my heart since I was young. At ten years old, it was because of anime. At twenty-four, it's because there is a people there who are so lost and so blinded... and yet have small samples of the Answer staring back at them with nearly every glance. People were dying. Children have become orphans. Siblings have now become an only child. Trying to take all of it in was too much. Afterward, I went into bed and stared at the ceiling in the darkness, feeling absolutely powerless to stop anything that was going to hit Japan in the coming hours.

Is this what it's like to have a heart for a nation? To feel like your very breath has been taken from you, and that a small part of your soul has been threatened in some way? To wish with every moment that you could do something to help someone - anyone - even if you can't properly speak the language? That when aftershocks continue to rock what small measure of peace people find, you feel as though you're right there with them, teetering and wobbling on unsteady ground, wondering when the world will stop and you can finally pick your life back up?

I have a yen that I wear on a chain daily. I discovered this morning that I occasionally play with it, and, thinking about it further, I rub it when I'm nervous or distressed. The grooves on its face are as familiar to me as the back of my hand. I feel so very connected to this country and to the people who try to make a simple living day by day, and I feel just as lost as the rest of them when I wonder... is there something worse coming soon?

Is this what it's like when God places a nation on your heart? When you know that your only weapon is prayer, and somehow prayer doesn't seem like enough?

Unfortunately, at this time, it's all I've got. I continue to watch. I continue to pray. I urge others to do the same. More importantly, though... I wait.

When life gives you lemons...

I think there comes a point in time when you look back at where you came from and wonder how on earth you got there. Y'all know what I'm talking about, right? You sit there at your computers or desks at work and think to yourself, "Man, a year ago, I was in this place" or "I had more money then" or "When did everything go wrong?" A systematic run for society, methinks. Why is it in our nature to compare where we are with where we were? I blame it on all of those self-help things we've seem to become overrun with. After being without a steady job for nearly a month, it's amazing to me how reflective you can become, and how, in turn, this can be cause for even more depression in your own life.

I, of course, have no solution to anything I've just written (besides the obvious) and look back at the above paragraph and wonder... where the heck did all those thinky-thoughts come from? Having all this time on my hands has made me entirely too self-reflective. I mean, what else am I going to do with my time?

Take fandom, for example. Recently on YouTube, I posted a rant about fans wanting aLegend of Zelda movie. They all ask for one, but no one ever seems to ask for a good one... and that's the point, isn't it? We want something we're not going to be embarrassed about in twenty years... and doing all of that made me remember how much I wanted to make movies of my own. I'm in the perfect spot for it, feeling like I made this great leap of progress, but now all I want is to be stable. I had this epiphany today that if someone asked me what I wanted to do with my life, my answer would be, "To have a job that can provide me and my family, no matter what that is." Granted, I have no family right now, but that answer made me wonder; am I settling for less, or am I so desperate for a job and money and stability (there's that 's' word again) that I'm willing to shelf my dreams just so I can live?

My tax return is coming back before the end of the month. I'll have $818 dollars, and when I looked at that total, another number flashed through my head; $740, the amount I was paying for rent. A knee-jerk reaction in my head said that return would be enough to pay for rent, but not enough for the rest of my bills, how am I going to pay it... and it took a good moment of focus for me to realize that I'm not living in that apartment anymore, and this is a wonderful opportunity to save that money for a place of my own with my roommate... until I thought of the money I owe Dad for the time he bailed me out of rent (which equals $800) and how I could have that all taken care of... but how that's a bad idea, because I'll be back at square one...

Do you see where I'm mentally stuck at here? It took my tax return number to realize how much money I was paying for necessities, and how little I was making at the warehouse... even with two jobs!... and how it could potentially be that much harder for me to shake this thought process off because it's been engraved in my head for six months. I thought of all the little sacrifices I made that would have been great stress-relievers and how wonderful it would be to be able to do those things again and not worry about rent the next month because I saved up enough. I thought of fun trips I couldn't take because gas is $3.50/gallon up here, and every paycheck I now get from Banana Republic is gas for two weeks because a paycheck from Banana is just under $35.

I don't write all of this for pity. I'm more or less stating the obvious in my life right now, and how, after a while, the obvious sounds like a great target at a shooting range. At the same time, though, that doesn't change anything. The obvious will always be the obvious until you do something about it.

So, here's what I'm looking at:

March rent: $250

March insurance: $111

March phone bill: unknown, because I was late to pay this one. Easily will be over $112

I'm going to hit the ballpark figure here and say that my bill total for March is going to be around $500. Donating plasma twice a week ain't gonna cut it. At the same time, getting a job NOW and getting two paychecks, depending on what it is, might not cut it, either.

When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. How about, "When life gives you lemons, stare at 'em, put 'em in your pocket, talk to your friends, and see how you can work through the solution."

Then again, maybe that's what they're talking about.

Following a trail of tears.

I'm nearly seven months into this adventure. Can you believe it? Sometimes I can't. Sometimes it feels like I've been here a lot longer. Sometimes it feels like I came along last week in my reliable little Clutch (that's the name of my car, for those who don't know) and stared this crazy journey. There have been lots of bumps on the road. There are moments where I cried with absolute relief. Always, though, when asked if I thought I made the right move, I've been able to nod without a moment of hesitation and answer, "Never doubted it yet."

Last night was the first time I really began to doubt what I've done.

I know that doesn't make me terrible or an absolute failure or anything, but that doesn't make the reality any less difficult to bear. And, after going to sleep and letting my mind rest a bit on the subject of my doubts, I was able to think through it more rationally this morning.

Here's the basic gist: I'm in debt to my landlords. Thankfully, after talking to them about it, they both understand that times are hard and are willing to work with me to make ends meet. Until last night, however, I didn't realize how bad of debt I was in. November's rent is coming up, and I still owe them a last little bit for October.

Something like that is an extremely hard pill to swallow. I honestly thought that, with new insurance and after talking to them and two weeks of sales at the warehouse, I wasn't going to be in a bind after this. I thought it was going to work out well. To think of that much money, with no roommate (yet) to help with rent and a grand total of three days of work next week...

Sigh.

I began to think that maybe I'm seriously in over my head. I've barely been here for a year. I seriously considered moving back to Missouri just so I could be back in a position where I wasn't like this anymore. I mean, I've hit a really strong bout of homesickness this week. I miss the familiarity, people who care about the same things I care about, the severe weather (oh man do I miss this) the friends that I've known for years and years and years... I was entertaining the thought of moving to St. Joseph so that I could be close to Kansas City, a place I know and love, and still have my dreams within my reach because I wouldn't be in Kirksville. I wouldn't feel trapped. I always told Mom that I couldn't move back to Missouri because only being seven months into this thing and going back because it was hard "feels like quitting. And why would I quit if tough moments are a part of being an adult? That's dumb." I didn't even care about that anymore. I just want to be out of this situation!!

Then, this morning, after getting up early to watch ESPN's College Gameday in Columbia (M-I-Z! Z-O-U!) and going back to sleep, the rational thoughts flooded into my head: what on earth makes me think that moving back to Missouri is going to solve everything? I'm still going to be in debt. I'm still going to have to pay off Jay and Suze for the time here. In reality, with the money I'd have to save for gas on the trip back home, and the extra money to ship everything out, it would be more likely that I'd have paid off my debt by that point. Running back to Missouri doesn't make any sense.

Another thought struck me that I want to make sense of before I post it here, but this is the gist of where I am. Rationality has smacked me in the brain, but that doesn't really change the situation. Currently, I've fallen back to my trump card and have applied at a local grocery store, as well as a Borders and a place called Just Sports who are looking for seasonal help right now. I'm trying to do what I can to find full-time work, as well as a roommate.

What I really need right now are big doses of encouragement. Help me out here, guys. What advice can you offer? What am I supposed to do?

A glimpse of my commute

I was driving home from work a week ago and admired the pretty fall colors on the trees. Thought I'd share. :)

I often wonder what God has on His iPod.

Does anyone else ever think about this? Every time I think about creation, I wonder what music God was listening to at the time. I mean, God is a wonderfully creative artist, obviously, and most artists like to listen to something when they create their work, which lead me to my thought this week:

What did God have on His iPod when he was creating the oceans?

I imagine it was something with a lot of strings, personally. Seeing as the Almighty has access to the largest band in creation, I'm sure that, while standing barefoot in paint-stained clothes and a beanie, they somehow just... worked well together. Art does that, you know? And I'm pretty sure that intricacy, that complexity, has to do with the time of Creation.

How does art and music go together, yet fall in the same category? 'Cause God did it first.

I'm also convinced that there's a little bit of Heavenly wonder in music. So when I hear something that really captivates me, it doesn't surprise me that I often wonder if God was ever listening to something similar during some point in history. For example, last week I found an orchestrated piece from a favorite game of mine, Donkey Kong Country. I didn't remember it was from this game, but when I heard it, I was absolutely captivated by the arrangement. When I reached the crescendo, a thought struck me: I wonder if this was what God was listening to when he created the oceans? When I hunted down the song, I was surprised to discover its name was "Aquatic Ambiance." I took that as a sign; I'm convinced God was listening to this at some point while He stood, barefoot, covered in the paint of creation, staring at the canvas of the Earth, watching as life was breathed into what He just molded together. Rock, sand, silt, reefs, fish, waves, and so, so much more of it covered by darkness, a beauty that human eyes may never see. Jump in at :59-4:01, close your eyes, and see if you can't feel yourself floating through the wonder of His creation.

Humble Pie

Humble: 1. proud or modest successful, 2. a feeling of subservience, 3. low in importance, quality, 4. courteously, 5. low in height, in size, 6. to lower in condition, or dignity, 7. to destroy the independence, or will of, 8. to make meek.

You see that over there? That's what poor people like me do when we want something toasted. We take the item, stab it with a knife, hold it over the stove, and cook it until we're satisfied with it. Let's see your toaster do that, eh?

Why don't I just buy a toaster, you ask? Because I can't afford one. I'm poor as dirt, people. I just payed rent. I'm pretty sure I'll just make paying for my insurance. (Or, if I have my way, I won't be paying for it at all. Can we say quote?) Besides, having to discover alternate ways to do the little things is what an adventure is all about, right?

One of the things I've been the most surprised to learn about the most during my adventure is how being humble is so absolutely crucial and so massively hard to do. It's amazing to be able to sit back and commit to it, knowing that you're going to be able to follow through with everything... while you're living under your parent's roof and not learning what part of your paycheck goes where. Sure. Being humble is a breeze in that case. But when you're living on your own, you discover that a lot of things you had at home aren't exactly the things you're going to use to make your new home. For example, rent could be far more affordable if I wasn't paying so much on insurance or a phone. It took a lot of personal nagging, but after three or four months of not doing anything for myself and collecting paycheck to paycheck (or buying one big thing and seeing how NOT good of an idea that was at the end of the month) it's plain to see that I need to prioritize.

It is, in a word, humbling. I can't make it on my own. I need as much help as I can get.

It also, in another word, sucks.

It's a nice, healthy stab to pride to be humble, I'm sure. What I didn't foresee was the hardships that are a result of being... well, humble. When I first moved in to my place, Dad and I made a budget, and since then, even eliminating around three of the categories we came up with, I still can't make it on the hours I have to work with. Finding a full-time job, especially in this economy, is a near-impossibility.

Humble: a feeling of subservience.

I had something far more eloquent to say about humility, but I completely lost it when another excellent thought entered my head for the day. I just wanted to say a little diddly on that, though. Expect more thoughts later-ish.