It's on the verge of getting late. My alarm clock keeps falling off the bunk-bed step I use as a bed side table. I'm homesick for the first time in my life. Sleepless. Uninspired. Anxious. Uncertain. I'm yearning for community in a place that was once so full. Unsettled. Excited. Curious. Searching for adventure and belonging. My heart aches.
What is this something that causes me to know that there is more. More to life than going through the motions? Is it faith or truth or passion, or even reality. My heart races, and skips a beat. The muscle spasm in my foot reminds me that it's time to start moving. Time to stop waiting. Time to choose? Or just keep going? Or both? Or neither. Maybe it's something else.
Maybe the thoughts in my head are there just for the sake of thought. To prove to me that I am alive. To keep me going, to keep me certain there is something there. Something that's not just me. Where to go from here? Where do I start? What does the beginning even look like? Too many questions. Time to just go. Time to do.
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