Freaking Out

What as I thinking? Grad school? Seriously? Bleh.

I'm so not getting sleep tonight, so I figured I'd write to you lovely kids instead. Not that anyone else is going to be up late enough to read it, but I haven't done a spur of the moment post in a while and I am Freaking OUT!

In case you haven't figured it out yet, I start my first official real time classroom experience for grad school in less than nine hours. This was so much easier to handle on the internet. Write about myself? Sure. Comment on a few other people's posts? No problem. Send my prof an email because the note to "start our required reading" when there were seven books to choose from and no set schedule for reading? More than doable. Especially since I didn't have any of my books yet and I needed to know which ones I needed first.

Oh, and did I mention I don't have ANY of my books yet? Which is why I spent approximately half an hour of my work day on Thursday in our church library praying desperately that we actually had some of my books for class (we had two, both for my online class, and a third one that the library thinks we have, but isn't actually there.) Which by the way is a totally legit way to use a half hour of my internship. So there.

So now here I sit, less than nine hours before my first class, which is six hours long by the way. On a Saturday. Which is gross. Feeling totally unprepared cause they didn't post a syllabus or anything so I'm not sure what I should have read by now. If anything. And I have no idea what I should be bringing to class. Not that I can bring any of my books, because I only have one (which I'm borrowing from a friend who also happens to be taking the class) because I waited until TONIGHT to order me books. Because I'm an idiot. An idiot that decided on basically a whim and a hopeful prayer to apply for grad school, then change to a full degree program, then take more classes then I actually have time for, all while keeping up with a full time job and two different weekly volunteer commitments, one of which is technically two different volunteer commitments.

So not only am I an idiot, I'm also crazy. I wonder if the disciples ever felt like this. "Yea, sure I'll give up my cushy tax collector job and travel around the Holy Land with you random guy I've never met." "Fishing's not really that great anyway, you seem way cooler." "I'll just give up my family and livelihood and hang out with you, since you seem to have some kind of awesome godlike aura. I'm sure it'll all be fine." Did even one of them ever wonder if what they were doing was crazy? I mean, they followed a basically unknown dude around to talk to people who scorned, laughed at, beat up, and eventually killed him all in the name of a God that I'm sure they followed, but probably weren't all that close to.

They didn't think about God the way we do. He wasn't a friend, homeboy, or savior yet. I mean, I guess he brought them out of Egypt, which was definitely saving them, but I don't really get the impression it was thought of as personal, just something God did because he cared about the people of Israel, which most of them were a part of. So what leads an ordinary fisherman to a life of sojourning and occasional sword fights? A tax collector to preaching a message he wasn't living out himself three years previous? A zealot to plotting the capture and ultimate death of one of his best friends? A 22 year old children's intern to thinking that God is sending her to the very valley of death itself so that she can spread a message that the world desperately needs to hear in a new way?

I guess these days we'd call it the Spirit. But what did Jesus have? Was he charismatic? Handsome even? Or was it something he imbued the Spirit with when he sent it (or him or her for those of you that prefer person terms) to us. Something that God innately possesses and is therefore present in all of his (or hers for those of you that can handle it) incarnations. Something that can touch the deepest part of a person's heart and makes them sure that not only can he/she/it be trusted, but that they're right. That no matter how bad or crazy or idiotic things get. They're there. And not just in the sense that they'll be there to catch you when you  fall, but they're there with you every step of the way, cheering you on and knowing that you're path may have some bumps, but that stumbling is part of the journey and you'll get there. No matter what you'll get there. Even if they have to drag you kicking and screaming.

And with that cheerful thought, I'm finally exhausted enough to sleep. I can't promise a full report tomorrow cause it'll be a crazy day, but a report there will be...sometime this week.

Night. Thanks for reading.