The trouble with taking polaroid pictures, is that a scanner is required to post them online. I've tried taking digital photographs of the polaroids, but they don't turn out very well. Despite my inability to post what I've shot, I have been taking polaroids every now and then and enjoy it quite a bit. I haven't quite gotten the hang of it yet, but I haven't had much time to putt around with it and experiment.

Today, I discovered that my current haircut it is too short to be put into a make-shift bun with a pencil, the way my mother always does it in the warm summertime months. My haircut's layering scheme isn't cooperating and shorter bits keep playing the rebel and fall way from the bun. I must say, I'm disappointed.

Tomorrow, is my last day working at the church. At the end of the key, I'll hand over the set of six keys that have been a part of my keychain for over two years. I won't have my own office anymore. I'm going to miss this job. It's become so comfortable and enjoyable. I don't get stressed here. I don't have to deal with angry people. Everyone is nice and there are even some fun eccentric ones, too! I can't believe tomorrow is my last day.

Last night, I had a nightmare. I dreamt that my Apphia was having a huge publicity/donor dinner and it was being held at my condo. In the dream, my condo was much larger than it is in real life. In the dream, I was running around trying to make sure everything looked nice: the balloons, food, etc. Then, I realized that a very Christian CD was playing with a song whose lyrics said, "I am a Christian..." and I realized how inappropriate that was for this event. Apphia found me and asked me to play something different and it took me forever to get to the CD player and find another CD to put in (for some reason I got held up picking out a bar of soap and something that smelled nice to give to a friend at a mini boutique on the outskirts of the condo - go figure). As I was taking forever to do this simple task, people in the background kept commenting on or grumbling about the music and how it was a poor choice for this event (some quite rudely, too). I was panicking thinking of the repercussions should this event go wrong and we upset the guests we were hoping would donate funds to the studio. However, my alarm went off before I could put a new CD into the player and I awoke in a panic. What an odd dream.

I really don't understand dreamworld.

Upon writing a letter to my Lord, I struggled.

I struggled with the knowledge that I do not have a reverence for Him. How easily I forget Him; how quickly do I choose something or someone else. I prayed for the desire- a yearning- of who He is and how I can honor Him. I prayed for a hunger for understanding. I prayed for a thirst for worshipping my Lord in order to in some meager way, bless His beautiful name. I prayed to be taught righteousness and repentance. I prayed to be taught true love and sacrifice, but then stopped mid-sentence, afraid of becoming Job. "Be careful what You ask for," playing in my head. How selfish I am. How distorted my priorities. I told Him about that fear, I told Him I didn't understand authentic abandonment of self to Him and His kingdom.

And I felt probed to look up His name, Yahweh. And I was humbled.

"YHVH" is written on my left hand. I pray it will serve as a reminder of the reverance He deserves.

Waiting is tiresome. Tiresome and uncomfortable. Sometimes, not so much. I've been thinking about what I want. How typical and shortsighted. I should know better... and I do.

Waiting is a good thing, despite it's seemingly inconvenient interruption. It requires me to think about other things. There is space to remember that I am not the world. And there is time to hear or recognize a reminder that I have a call to submission and obedience. To humility and trust. To sacrifice and care for others. To concentrate on the pursuit of Christ and understanding authentic discipleship.

When I am required to wait for that which I yearn for most, I find that there is something special about the process (sometimes realized now, sometimes in retrospect), but only when I identify it thusly. Unfortunately, I write this one day and forget the next. What is the secret to remembering?