There is a great difficulty that comes with aquiring a new notebook: I always want the first page to be something beautiful or monumental- preferably both. And thus, I am virtually paralyzed with fear that causes me to avoid the notebook, no matter how desired or ergonomic. Some of this fear come from the fact that I am picky with notebooks. Some kinds I like only for note-taking, some for journals, some for creativity. None of those categories ever overlap in terms of the type of notebook I like for each. For note taking, I like generic spiral bound books, with multiple dividers for category seperation. For journals, I like hard-cover, spiral bound books with smaller-than-standard lined pages. For creativity, I like blank plages and something that denotes an air of privacy and neutrality- no words or pictures anywhere.

Although I am currently facing this great difficulty with a lovely journal-style notebook, I mention it because I have a new blogspace. The trouble is that, though I have held the blogspace for several months and am completely happy with the title, I cannot bring myself to post a first entry. I want the blogspace to be something beautiful, monumental, interesting, honest, and artistic. And so, I find myself with pleanty of ideas of what the blog should be, how it should begin, what it should mean, and none of them is enough to convince me to write. 

I would also like to point out that it bothers me a little to be comparing a blog to a notebook. It seems oddly perverse somehow. Nothing will ever fully replace the connection of mind to pen to paper.

Krissy

For as long as I can remember, I have considered myself to be a person of few regrets. But, here I am at the end of more than two weeks without writing, and I find myself adding a regret to the very short list accumulated until now. When I lose my way, I lose my words. The last few weeks have been marked with good days and bad days- the none so bad as to warrent much thought. I celebrated my twenty-third birthday, worked, raked leaves, went to church, saw Cirque du Soleil, dressed up for halloween. Everyday passed unrecorded and words were lost when I sat in front of blank screen or sheet.

Not to be contrite, but what is done is done. It cannot be taken back, only learned from. So here I am writing to you to tell you that I am still alive and well.

In these last few weeks, a lot of things have been floating around in the back of my mind. And, it seems that they all suddenly made sense yesterday. I woke up knowing what needed to be done- whether you want to call it subconcious intuition or God-given direction. I have been longning for structure or predictability- something I have not had for nearly a year. I need less distraction and more space for creativity. Believe it or not, those statements do not contradict in my mind.

The plan is less hours at work and signing off facebook for a month or two. I think this is the best course of action, but it also has the unfortunate possibility of limiting my contact with some people. That being said, in recent months I have felt like people are my lifeline- a notion which bothers me a little.

I think you'll be seeing me around here a little more often, but I make no promises.

Krissy

I am lacking in self-restraint when it comes to some things- usually things my mother warns me about ahead of time. And, though I really do not need her warning because my common sense tells me the exact same thing, I probably should listen.

Apparently, my life aspirations are not super high as the top two include living with my husband and getting a cat. Shoot for the moon right?  I have lost count of the time I have wanted both of those things- one possibly longer than the other. Seeing as there is nothing I can do about moving to the states until the government gives me the go ahead, I have focused my energy on the cat. I can't have the cat until I move anyways, so I am not sure this strategy is good one...

So, against better judgement and advice, I left behind my self-restraint and did a google search for the Portland Humane Society. I spent about an hour (okay, maybe two) pouring over the pictures and biographies of all the residents needing a loving home. I cried for every cat over the age of six knowing they need the most love, and looked longingly at the kittens wishing I could prevent them from growing old in an institution.

And then, at the bottom of the last page, there was Winnie.

It was love at first sight. She has become the face of my long-lived desire for a cat, and I can only hope that she might be mine someday. If not, I hope she will go to a good home and be happy.

*sigh* Daydreaming can be dangerous.

Krissy

The things we have lost.

After a long and exhausting day, my phone rang. Only five people know the number- two of whom were sleeping in the room upstairs. I knew it was Lucas; he did say he'd call. I rarely feel more alone than the moments before I say hello when I know he is on the other end of the proverbial line. I leaned my head back onto my pillows as I answered and engaged. The lonliness slipped away. We talked about a lot of things, but eventually settled on the topic of how to view today and tomorrow.

It's been a year. You've been with us along the journey, and for that I am greatful. On the worst days, I can become enveloped in thoughts of how much we have lost in a year. We've only been married for two years and two months. There are the big things we've lost; we celebrated Christmas apart, I missed Lucas' first big audtion, Lucas missed VBS, and the list goes on. But, when it comes down to it, the big things aren't really that important to me. There will be other Christmas', there will be pleanty more auditons, I'll be involved in ministry all my life.

The small things we have lost are the ones that matter most to me. I'll turn in the library, but I am alone. I'll see something funny, but have no one to share it with. There isn't always someone to come home too, to talk too, to physically reach for when everything else is chaos. It's crawling into a cold bed at night in a silent room. No one with whom you can run errands.  It's that nagging feeling that something or someone is always missing- that you, yourself, are not fully there, fully validated. The little things that all add up to a very large void.

We always have God, most importantly, and we have incredable family, friends, church families, and co-workers. It is not that we lack everything, just that we lack each other. If you have ever doubted the extent to which a man and a woman become one through marriage, believe me when I say that I did too. We'd done long distance before, and it was not exactly glamorous. It was never like this. We never lost so much.

As we talked, it seemed that Lucas spoke right through the mist- having grasped a truth of God. Now, it is time to shift our focus before we drown in losses to great to comprehend. Yes, we have lost much. Hasn't everyone in some way?  The time for seeing loss is over, even if we may lose more.  

We will, God willing, have many days ahead to come home to each other- wherever home may be. There are still many great memories to be made and held. There is so much more than loss. There is hope for tomorrow, just as there remains hope for today.

I guess you could say we've been turned around to face the right way. Looking forward instead of back.

Krissy

At the end of a long night, when the sun has gone down and the customers are gone, the sensation that my feet are sinking into the floor makes me feel as though the weight of the world is threatening to crash down around me. I shift, uncomfortably, under the star-speckled sky and idley wonder what I am doing here. Darkness, exhaustion, and lack of company turns me reflective- for better or for worse.

Will this all be worth it some day?

Will the earth simply grab hold of my feet and pull me under?

350 days and I am still wondering.

Krissy