You say you want to hear about my life up in this place–about the challenges and the culture–the victories and all the great things.

The stories are kinda stuck right now.

Honestly, I can’t fit my world into a certain format, which is maybe why people don’t seem to understand.

I am not trying to be the saint or salvation here, shockingly enough.

I’m still the clumsy girl with words that never sound quite like she feels, and yet I’m not, because the last months have rearranged my insides something crazy.

“I think maybe you didn’t realize how different your life has become.”

I think maybe she’s right.

Which is not to necessarily say that I’ve grown into a better woman though it all, like one would expect to hear at the end of the colorful presentation on Wednesday night.

It’s just that I’ve lived a different everyday for these last months.

Everydays that started with hyper boys jumping on my back and sometimes ended at 3 am with dried blood on my clothes.

That is all.

The moral of the story is not about me as some angel of mercy having what it takes.

The moral of this story is that I don’t. I don’t. I don’t.

The moral of this story is that a very human girl just lives everyday in a slightly different world than yours, and she still stumbles, though she loves her life.

The moral of this story is that God is using the everyday here to pick out her pride and hang her selfishness in the front yard.

It’s hardly a glossy PowerPoint, trust me, although those are over-rated.

I’m going to disappear for a little while. Alright? 

I’m going to watch the moon rise and be very silent until the rearranging that is happening settles into place and I see the new shape.

It’s not that I am afraid of telling you the stories, only of the expectation of what they should sound like.