The Front Porch and the Storm

What a day today has been. Do you ever have one of those days where you are rudely awakened by all of the responsibilities you have been putting off and putting off?... That day was today for me. Tshhh... What am I talking about? I can be so shallow sometimes. What I really want to talk about is what I felt today. What did I observe? Talking about responsibility is a given. I shouldn't have to write about it because everybody can probably rest assured that the average college student is very busy.

Church was good this morning. You know what I hate about Sunday though? I hate that it's the only day where I really get down and focus completely on God. Sunday shouldn't be the only spiritually refreshing day of the week for me. But here I am before you, a man easily distracted by meaningless crap. I talked with my mentor after church though and we're probably going to meet sometime this week. That'll be nice. I need someone to challenge me head on. I've been thinking a lot about challenge lately. I don't have too much meaningful challenge here. It's mostly task oriented and by doing it I might become a skilled coordinator or businessman, but that's not really what is important to me. I've always been curious as to what my full potential is. I mean what is my absolute maximum potential? I already know that I am capable of so much, but I am nowhere near what I could be. I know that for sure. Each day is an opportunity to learn more and develop more, but if I am not careful and use the wisdom that God has given me, I believe that it can be very easy to regress and get comfortable in being simple and mediocre. I need a challenge to keep my head above water.

Speaking of water, this evening was quite relaxing. I spent most of it sitting on the front porch at the house with Viking and Matt just watching the rain fall and the lightning peal through the sky. Some of it got pretty close, but I was too relaxed to even jump in my seat. It was a nice warm rain, something that has always been pleasing to me because it makes its own music unlike that of winter rain. Winter rain tends to trickle and pierce through your skin into your soul. Warm rain pacifies me. I think it's because when I was younger I used to watch it rain really hard from the old screen door in the kitchen. There was a tall oak tree a very short distance away that used to sway violently in the wind and its leaves made a shush sound when it rained or stormed. I used to call it "the barkley tree" because it looked like broccoli, only I couldn't say broccoli at that age. Anyways, I liked it then and I like it now.

New news next door to the house. Some girls our age moved in, and though I haven't talked to them yet, they seem nice. So that's that.

Finally I'm sorta lost as to how I should feel right now. It has been exactly a year since I was out on the soccer field praying that God would spare the life of my friend Phillip Schrum. He was hit by a car while jogging at home on his spring break. I was in a recording session when I found out down in studio A. I remember how helpless I felt. I remember being out there on the soccer field and when I came back in Colleen called me to go over and calm down Ivy Lee. She knew Phillip from high school. She had heard that Phillip was dead and was frantic, but I had a different source that said he wasn't, so I assured her that he was doing better and that she should go back to sleep and that I would call her if anything happened. When I got back to my room I called my parents and they said everything was stable so I went to sleep and as soon as I closed my eyes my phone rang again. It was what I thought. I didn't cry though. I just got really angry and punched a door and then went into the quad and dry-heaved in the grass. Chubbs was there. I tried to go back to my room and sleep after that, but I couldn't, so I packed up my things, jumped into my car, and drove home. It was seven hours and I decided to stop off and pick up Andy in Ashville because that's on the way and all. Both our dads came and met us there and drove us the rest of the way, but I still didn't cry. When I got home I slept for around 18 hours and when I woke up I just didn't feel like it was all real. We went to church to prepare the music for the memorial service and I still didn't feel like it was real. I remember trying to cry, but I couldn't. The next day was the funeral and the service. Before the funeral, we went to the house and I went to his room and sat on his bed and just thought for a while. At the funeral is when I cried, and I cried, I really let go. I hadn't cried for four years before that. I had a lot to let go of. There's nothing in this world like standing in front of a casket with one of your close friends in it. I cried at the service too, before the music started. When we had to play, I played and I was pretty dry until the last song. It was like God had given me the strength to get through it, but then He took it at the last moment as if to say that it was His and not mine. I broke down behind stage.

So it has been a year since then. I don't know how I feel right now. I feel like I should be mourning, but I don't remember how. I haven't cied since. There hasn't seemed to be anything worth crying about since then. I can't say too much though. I'm not much of a crier. Well, I'm going to pack up my stuff and head back to my room. I'm done working now, but I think I'll get started on my project for Tuesday. Peace and love.