Trust

I love my parents. I do. They are such smart people. And all my life, they've taught me how to do the logical thing, to believe in reality. These things are important.

I love someone else, too. But he taught me about completely different things. He taught me about trusting, rather than knowing. He taught me that things won't always make sense, and that is okay. He taught me about dreaming.

Logic, faith. Reality, dreams. They seem to kind of conflict. But perhaps they go hand in hand? Like a paradox?

I'm still working all of that out, but now I'm in touch with my dreaming side. I want to go to New Zealand next fall. I want to get married one day. I want to learn to play guitar. I want to go so many places all over the world and help the hurting, broken people out there. I want so many other things, too, that I don't dare say out loud quite yet. These are my current dreams. I don't know how this will all work out; the logical part of me says I can't possibly have all of my dreams. But I believe that my God is bigger than that.

I believe that He put these desires in my heart for a reason. I believe that my heart is important to Him, and that He is greater than all of these things. I believe...

.TRUST.

details.

For better or for worse, there are several, little, inconsequential things about myself that I’m certain will probably never change. Like how whenever any Counting Crows song comes on the radio, I will blast it far too loud. Or how the longest I can keep my room clean is about a week, if that. Or how I love brushing my teeth in the shower. Or how I am bound to mess up at least one step when baking anything. It’s nothing at all noteworthy, but I find comfort in the sameness. In the fact that, in this world where anything can change at any moment, some of my little details stay the same.

There are some little things, though, that I hope will change eventually. Like the nauseous feeling I get whenever I drive past the Bronco park. Or how I skip past all the backseat goodbye songs when my iTunes is on random. Or how I feel completely lame whenever purchasing anything from American Eagle anymore. Yes, this is me. At least, it’s a part of me. But is it a part that’s here to stay?

Anyways. I think I’ll do us both a favor and try to back up a bit. The big picture looks pretty good.

In memory of Cate Colbert

Flickering candles in our hands
Heartbroken wailings, raw and bitter
Naseous feelings in the pits of our stomaches

Hello.
I don't know you, and you don't know me
But I know you know how I feel right now
This shouldn't have been the way that we met
This shouldn't be the reason we're all gathered here

Picture of a girl we all know (do we?)
Radient smile on her face that we all recognize
We swap memories of Her
Which leads to smiles and laughs
Then fade to tears brimming up in our eyes
From the disconnect of talking about Her in the past tense

No one needs to tie a ribbon around their finger to remember this
No one needs to mark it on their calendars
Or write with sharpie on their hands

In memory of Cate Colbert. Much love miss.