Unpacking. Pulling out a suitcase and sorting books and
clothes-dirty or clean, winter or summer. It’s the story of a college
student. It’s the story of a missionary. Packing and unpacking. As I settle into my home for the summer with
piles of boxes on my other bed still and job searching I remember the decision I
made for this summer: I will be where I’m at.
I’m not really good at that: being where I’m at. Oh I
complain when people bring cameras for future memories, but there’s always a
notebook tucked into my purse to capture a moment. When I was little there was
always somewhere else to be. When I was older I either had my nose stuck in a
book or brain flying somewhere in a cloud of fantasy. But see, that’s the
problem, my brain stayed in the clouds and it didn't learn how to guard my heart
against the cold of reality; reality is like the weather, and you have to be
ready for winter. The reality is that I’m not a very good writer. The reality is
that change will come, no matter how hard you fight it. The reality is that
life doesn't always go our way. These realities all knocked me off my feet because
sometimes you have to wear a coat in winter.
I hated winter in 2012, it was
cold and windy and you couldn't be outside. But then in 2014 I had a class
called “Winter Field Ecology” where I spent hours bundled up with wool socks,
wool hat and two or three layers of pants, crunching through snow on snowshoes.
Let’s just say I fell in love with winter. I had learned to face the cold. I’m
learning to do that too with dreaming. I can’t hole my heart away in a house.
Yeah, reality hurts but I can’t stop dreaming: I’ll miss the snowflakes landing on the
branches of a white Pine. It’s time to put on my coat.
