My soul finds rest in God alone.

It is funny how life passes us by. I remember when I was around 8 and I would count how many more school years I had to start - excluding college. My family wasn't one to encourage college in the beginning. I guess back then no one thought we would make it. At least I didn't. I can't believe that at only eight I never thought a college would accept me. Then again, I was looking to Princeton for approval. Clearly I have since dropped my high standards. Only 9 more first days of school. And then I would be done. I wasn't happy about switching to a private school, but they told me that princeton would take me if i went to a private school. Okay, deal, I'll do it. Even then, though, I never thought I would make it to the end. To be eighteen? How old. My cousin was only 15 at the time and I told myself I wouldn't even make it that far. I just could not see myself as an 18 year old, much less 20. It seemed too far off. All the eighteen year olds I saw were grown up and pretty. I would never be pretty. And how would I ever handle being on my own? I'm not so sure I've accomplished either one, but I would have never guessed what I had coming to me. I never knew belonging somewhere.
When I moved from public to private school at the precious year of third grade, I was not happy to say the least. I felt alone. I mean my brother and I wouldn't play on the same playground or have class in the same hallway anymore. I remember walking in with my dad and it was starting to snow. I almost started crying. I felt like I was a 2 year old being dumped on the babysitter. I remember being by myself with the teacher until the other kids got back from some other activity. They all walked in, just looking at me. Instantly, my clothes felt uncomfortable and old. The case was the same with my backpack and school supplies. I then realized I didn't have markers. Crap. I lived for markers and I didn't have them on this awful day. And of course we had to use markers later in the day and I, the different new kid, had to borrow. The next few years were the same. I always felt behind academically and socially. Teachers criticized my cursive (who even uses cursive anyway?) and I had nothing to talk about at lunch because I didn't play any sports and I didn't pass auditions for Saintly Singers. I was the only kid who auditioned and did not get in, mind you.
The middle school transition made things worse. Everyone gets awkward in middle school, but if you start out awkward, you're just plain doomed. I made and lost a few friends pretty quickly. When I told my mom I wanted back in public schools, she denied that request pretty fast. At that point I really didn't know what else to do. I had dreamed of how perfect this school was going to be for me a few years earlier. It was going to have a second floor and the teachers would be genuinely interested. Plus it was a Christian school so everyone would be nicer, right? Cough. It is amazing the things kids pick up on. I had no interest in staying with the Christian kids, they weren't any nicer. I mean they were just more awful. I missed my old friends who showed God's love even if they didn't believe in Him. So I just pushed through. Treat it as if it were the simple dull pain of a headache. I had not motivation to do very well in school, I simply wasn't as smart as the smart kids (who still lead social lives in cool clubs) or as cool as the cool kids.
The summer before high school, I got my braces off and acquired a pretty cool haircut. I became particular about my clothing and makeup. I woke up at 5 am to go to an institution that did not start until 8. I was committed to doing better for myself in high school. Not much changed in the beginning. I got a boyfriend. Met some cool people and pushed through, focusing on the boyfriend mind you. I got involved with his church, this already being my third "church home" at only 14. The first was purely daycare services with a cool Jesus sunday on the side and the second a much larger church in the area that was well, just as awful as school, and given the option, I would rather play N64 with my brother on a Wednesday night and sleep in on Sundays. I made some good friends at that church that seemed to accept me at first. But I soon came to realize that I was clearly more liberal than they had anticipated and expected of someone who dated this guy. When we broke up, I was no longer welcome. No one talked to me anymore, I was scum of the sinner's earth. Slight migraine, push through.
I spent some time with my friends and then got a job, which took up most of my time. I really liked my job and I did well as far as I knew. I liked my slight independence. I liked having a couple friends even if I still didn't deem it worthwhile to wake up for the hell hole everyday. I got another boyfriend and somehow repeated the cycle again. Five churches in, I think I'm done. We got back together, sans my church attendance, and moved through high school to college. I wasn't involved much. Just spent time with him. Most of my friends went out of town to school. Leaving me with him. Not that he is a bad guy or it was awful, just saying he was all I really had at that point. I was uninvolved at school, which basically caused me to question what I was doing there. Why didn't I go to UCF where I wanted to be? Why didn't I get my way like everyone else at the rich white private school? I worked so hard, balancing work, bills, and school. They did nothing except land in the right womb at the right time.
When I got laid off I was done with Memphis. I had been screwed over for the last time. I was leaving and going where I wanted to go, Orlando. I made real friends that didn't care what I, nor my parents, made. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that we had a good time and had enough money to eat. I met people who were odd like me in an outgoing way. I had a job at company I would really flourish at, I could feel it. This was where I belong.
After all those years of misery, when you find the right thing, you know it. My true love was my job, my company, my city, my roommates. It is an unbelievable happiness. Its unlike anything else. I would not truly know God without the hardships and that reward. God is love. He is the passion within me that I never knew was there. He is the passion in others who love to share it. He is not comfy pews or high standards. He is found in a welcoming friend who isn't perfect, but simply themselves, willing to accept you the way you are. It is times like those or moments in St. Jude that I have found God. I don't think I have nor ever will see God inside of four walls. He is too big, too original for that. And so am I.
I would give anything to have those times back. And I hope to someday. Upon my return I stopped finding the hatred and started seeking the love in my own city until I go back home to Orlando. It wasn't far. It is all in a matter of seeking. God asks us to be fishers of men. That means you don't sit in the boat with high standards waiting on the ONLY fish you, of such high quality, will ACCEPT on God's behalf to throw themselves inside. You are not the judge. You are not an "after-life" insurance agent. Stop selling the get-out-of-hell free card and expecting people to go somewhere with their faith. God is action and love, not lukewarm faith. Showing God's love is not shoving theology down peoples throats or hypocritical standards. I can't wait to be back where I belong, in sync with my relationships and seeing God outside of some gaudy cross, but at least I have realized how to continue searching and learning here.