Four; 1-2-3-4, Years Ago Today. What's Changed?

Hopes and Dreams
seem, at times, oddly hard to come by. Like now, for instance. 


There are no definite plans for the part of my life that will take place after summer.


and I think I'm finally okay with that.


As long as I'm doing my part to take a keen, active [involved, not passive] awareness of those things toward which my eyes have been attracted or my heart has grown soft, life will happen as it needs to. It's hard not to be confident when I think about how God is using those efforts to guide these feet. Thanks for that.




Some things I do anticipate for my future:


- a garden, vibrant, brimming with life! and BIG so I can share / peddle my vegetables. 
hopefully there will also be a raspberry patch around there somewhere


- an ultra-simple lifestyle, at least for a time. i'm talking no bedframe, matress on the floor,
limited decorations, no furniture
(okay maybe a couple pieces.)
I like my rooms accommodating, but empty enough that I'd feel comfortable to attempt a 
handstand. I'd be ecstatic to be t.v. free,
but mom says I at least need basic cable, "you know, for news and stuff."
And I say okay
compromise:
tv somewhere but 4, 6 (,8) & 10 shall be its only friends. There will be trips to
the market as necessary to prepare my fresh, wholesome, not-processed, nutritionally-
excellent meals. Kitchen table optional. [At least for now.]
I'll reduce reuse and recycle like this planet's greatest reverse-bandit. 
Yesterday's Silk carton is today's planter. 
And so on, and so forth.
Excess Schmexcess.


As my mind and heart conspire so this list shall be inspired.


Toodles.

3/19/2012

Don't mean to get all retrospective lately, but it's entertaining for me to assess what's been going on all this time.  People always pose that question, starting with "five years from now...", squeezing too much life out of our numinous aspirations against the tightest-woven expectation-grade cheesecloth.  It's healthy, but a strain.

  My five years from this last post is nearly here, and what to show for it?  I've graduated with a degree I may or may not have the heart to give my life toward expounding upon educationally or professionally, at least as its typical course might dictate.  My personality hasn't changed much.  My voice is still soft.  I started a garden.  Our dorm has no television access.  I could do a handstand in here if it weren't for the new discomfort of blood to the head.  Can't even hang upside down from the couch anymore without my the back of my eyes feeling like they're planning their out-of-this-socket trajectory.  This aside,  Four-Years-Ago Me would be proud of the Four-Years-From-Now Me.  That's great.  But what of?

Lessons I have, blessedly, learned:

"It's not what we eat but what we digest that makes us strong; not what we gain but what we save that makes us rich; not what we read but what we remember that makes us learned; and not what we profess but what we practice that gives us integrity." - Sir Francis Bacon

I could be disappointed nothing has changed, but there's no lie more lame.  Lots has changed (I've even forsaken soy milk for almond except at coffee shops where they've yet to catch on.)  The more I think of the changes, though, the less consequential they seem.  As humans, we're walking enigmas, changing and staying the same more every day.  Should I be surprised?

This March-uncertainty is a theme for my young adult life.  (For further evidence, see every year since this last green post.)   Like any worthwhile theme revisited, though, has come new insight about the One Who made me, who has prepared my blueprint and works me into it every day, though I'm blind to His design.

What hasn't changed is God's faithfulness.  He's got a great design in mind, with an even more substantial purpose, and I intend to live up to it by His grace.

I pray God makes us faithfully, boldly compliant and pliable
trusting and unhesitatingly hopeful.

Not a house on earth so glorious and wise as its architect.