Hello Blogger, my old friend. I've come to talk with you again.

It has been a while. In one sense, I am so desperate to open myself up on here; to write and post my honest thoughts and feelings. But the thought of having it available for the world to see (even if the world doesn't see) is a bit nerve wracking. I hate this blog because it inspires me to honesty, and I love it because it provides a needed outlet. I physically journal, but I think better when I can type and erase and type some more. My thoughts are always so scattered...knowing that I can go back and edit and reword things gives me a sense of peace.

I've been wondering a lot lately about my struggles with loneliness, and with what God's purpose for my life is, and how everything that I thought my life would be is apparently not what God has for me. Or not right now anyways. Collectively, those three things have weighed my heart and soul down for far too long. And I know it's a problem. I've tried many different things over the past several years...including telling God that He's a lunatic (I still tell Him that; it makes me laugh, and then I feel a bit better. And so far He hasn't seemed to mind my name calling...).

I think the worst part is carrying around the longing to be a foster parent. I've wanted to be a foster parent since I was about 15. That's 11 years. And I feel like I'm no closer to fulfilling that role than I was then. Realistically I know that I have gotten closer, just by studying people and spending time with broken children and researching fostering, but the foundational things that I would need to become a foster parent just aren't there. Why would God give me this dream, a dream that is admirable and needed in NY, and then not enable me to fulfill it? I sometimes feel like He's just messing with me. Everyone else was put here with a purpose, but I'm just part of some cosmic science experiment to discover how torture the human mind can endure while still calling Him "Master".

And have I let Him down, just by being the essence of a strong, individual female? People tell me that they admire my strength, and that they wish they were like me. But I'm not like me. I'm strong out of necessity, not by choice. I don't want to change my own oil, I want someone to take care of that for me. I dont' want to be the strong person when things go south, I want a shoulder to lean on and cry into. Instead I save all my crying for when I'm driving alone. And people tell me how much they admire me, and how I inspire them.

But if they could see my weakness, maybe they would also see that it is ok to be weak, to struggle. I struggle too, I just don't let it show. In our weakness, we allow Him to be our strength. And until recently, I've not allowed Him to be my strength. I still don't want to. His way hurts to much...what happened to "my yoke is easy, and my burden is light"? I've sinned against myself and against God. Is that admirable?

I admire those people who can struggle openly, and yet still trust in and rely on God. Yet maybe that's all a farce too. A show. I hope so. Those put together people make me sick, and make me hate myself. Probably because I know that I am viewed as one of those people, and I know how deep the lie can go.

My conversations with God every morning go something like this:

Me: God, I can't do this anymore. I want out. I can't see where this is ever going to end, and it hurts too much.
God: Darling, can you trust me enough to give me some more of your time? Long enough for you to see how it all works out?
Me: How long's it going to take?
God: How long can you spare?
Me: I can only commit to giving you today.
God: That's perfect!

In Which Aimee Is Frustrated With God And Herself

Dear God,

What am I doing here? I mean really, why am I on this glorious Earth that you've made? Am I here only to worship you? Do I have no greater purpose?

I suppose that if you take the expanded sense of worship then that really is my entire purpose. But I really just want to do something, anything, to further your kingdom.

I thought you put me in this office in order to live my life as a witness to my co-workers. I've been here 3 1/2 years...sometimes it seems like a whole heck of a lot longer. And I've made exactly zero progress on your behalf. It sure seems that way anyways. I'm not complaining about that. I'm where you put me, and you obviously have a reason for having me here, right?

I'm really starting to wonder though. Am I really that special? Don't get me wrong, I really am happy for Rach...that she got to witness to someone she's prayed for (longer than me, I might add). And I'm really excited that Jodi was actually interested in what she was saying. I mean, really glad. But at the same time, where does that leave me? Am I expendable? Backup, maybe? Am I really making a difference?

Sometimes, God, I wonder if maybe its me. Like maybe I'm just not a good enough Christian. I seem to miss opportunities left and right. I spend all my time kicking myself for being an idiot and giving in to my fears and issues. I could really use some truth right about now.

Maybe Rachel is just gifted in evangelism. She certainly loves talking about you. Maybe I have other gifts? I wish I knew what they are.

Anyways, I think I'm feeling a little better now. Not a lot, but a little. I need to quit wishing I could be like other people. It doesn't help that other people think that I need to be like them too though, eh? It's funny God, but I feel like you're rubbing the importance of reading your word into my face. The Truth. It's right there. Instant self-esteem.

God, I love you. I'm sorry I'm such a dipstick about everything pertaining to you. And I'd really like to trust you, but its pretty hard sometimes. Anyways, I'd better go. It was nice talkin' to ya.

Aimee

One year ago today...

I totalled my beloved car. It wasn't a special car in any way, other than it was the first car I bought with money saved from an actual after-college job, and it wasn't purchased from a family member. I loved that car. I still miss it.

It amazes me how I responded that day. I'm actually kinda proud of my reactions, and truth be told I don't even regret the accident.

My mom actually told me that she would rather deal with an accident I was involved in any day of the week if it meant that she would never have to deal with an "Ari accident" again. Ari can be pretty difficult. I tend to be pretty calm and thoughtful when things like that happen. By the time Mom had arrived I'd already gone through all the insurance questions I had, and the trooper who came to do the accident report had looked my car over and informed me that it was probably a goner. I had a good 1/2 hour to adjust to life post-accident, and it was more than enough time to regain my mental balance. Things don't overwhelm me that easily.

My most proud moment was when I was sitting in the backseat of my parents car, waiting for the tow truck to finish getting my car back onto the road and then onto the back of his truck. I remember thinking (very sarchastically) that this was such a great way to start the day. I was really annoyed with myself for not slowing down enough before starting down a hill with pretty substantial curves on it. Especially after swerving all over the road in the slush & snow on the flat and straight areas I'd already gone through. I should have known better.

But as I sat there, I realized that that really was a great way to start the day - with a definite example of God's hand on my life. The area where my car eventually ended up had a creek running along the road, at the bottom of a 5 ft bank. Enough to flip my car over and into the creek upside down...which has happened several times to unsuspecting drivers. There are some trees between the road and the creek, but they aren't generally large enough to stop a car. But one stopped my car. Even if I could have gotten out of the drivers side, I wouldn't have - the creek bank started less than a foot from the side of my car. And my car was stopped by hitting a tree with just the back corner of it. All the physics that I learned say that that really shouldn't have happened. It should have kept spinning until at least the front end was in the creek.

I was so thankful. What a great way to start my day!

Sometimes I just need a little space...

Psalm 73:26 - My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

I've been really frustrated with my heart recently. I feel like my heart is a rock where God is concerned. Like he wants me to focus on Him, but I don't really care. I think its kind of a self-protection strategy; I'm just no longer willing to put my heart on the line for God. It leads to too much hurt.

But this verse gives me hope. My heart has failed, but its ok cause God's got my back. I can't unharden my heart, but I think God is ok with being the strength of my heart while I figure this all out. I'm strangely comforted by the idea of God stepping back and giving me space while I unharden my heart.

Imagine a married couple that was seperated but has decided to work things out and stay together. Its a long process. There is hurt on both sides, and pain, and mistrust. And sometimes you just need your space. But if your spouse is truely commited to a reconciliation, you are taking that space with the knowledge that he/she isn't going anywhere and actually can't wait until you're done needing space. They recognize the need for space, aren't threatened by it, and are capable of rejoicing at the closeness which separation can bring.

Thats where my relationship with God is right now. Sometimes I just need space. I'm not walking away. I'm just as commited to making my relationship with God work as He is. But I've been hurt by Him. Even if it just stems from my inability to understand/see His plans, its still hurt. And I'm pretty sure He's ok with my need for space sometimes, as it allows me time to think clearly and unemotionally. And I can come back, ready and willing to listen to what He's trying to tell me.

Home Sweet Home

Home can mean so many things to so many people. My mom didn't have a "home" for quite a few of her growing up years. I've lived in the same "home" all of my 25 years. And WNY really is my home. I love traveling to new places and discovering new "homes", but part of going is looking forward to returning again.

I've found many places where I feel at home. Like

when I go there, I become convinced that I could live there forever. And I don't think its a naive conviction either. Romania and Vietnam are the main 2. Actually the only 2 outside of WNY. I spent loads of time away from the tourist hubs in each of these countries, and I am convinced that I really could live in either country.

Today I miss Romania. I miss being there so much that I just want to sit here and cry. Which is strange, as I don't know anyone that lives there and I really only spent time in a small area of the country. But I miss it just the same.

And just like WNY, there are many things I don't miss about Romania. The racism for one. Every time I think about how bad it is here, I try to remind myself that at least its not like Romania. But also just like WNY, there are so many positives. Many more than I can list here.

Frustration

I like my job. I really do. Some days I have to remind myself of this frequently. Today is one of those days.

I just don't get one of my bosses. Last Friday, a bunch of us grunts were in the hallway chatting when she came in. Her first comment was actually "good morning", but her second comment followed quickly: "Why are you all standing around talking? Are the computers down?" None of us were clocked in. We each have an hour of break time during the day, and I don't recall anyone giving me a specific time that I could take it. So why can't I take it during the day. Actually, we get yelled at for talking too much all the time. We got an e-mail today telling us to stop discussing things amongst ourselves if we're wondering about something and to come to her. Thats kinda funny actually, since when we do come to her she either makes herself unavailable or she'll shoot us down. And I've heard her several times directly imply that someone was either lying or purposely making something up. Its like she feels that we are only here to screw with her life and her perfect office. She doesn't realize how much she screws herself up.

And its a darn good thing that she was lucky enough to become partners with Bob. And she was lucky to hire such great people for me to work with. Cause they're the only reasons I'm still here. She certainly isn't doing anyone any favors around here; that would require being nice, and that is too close to being weak. And we certainly can't admit to a weakness or to being not perfect or to making a mistake. Oh my, that would be bad.

Travelling

I spent a long weekend in Washington DC recently. I was very enjoyable. I was concerned with whether or not I would be able to relax adequately during 4 days, but I shouldn't have worried. While in Vietnam, I purposely worked on being able to relax. It came in handy while in DC, as I made the mental switch to vacation mode basically overnight. I would like to share a few of my experiences from this trip:

1. I got lost as soon as I came out of the Chinatown metro exit. I took one look at the Friendship Arch, knew that I had to go through it, and for some odd reason I turned right around and went the other way. It didn't take me too long to realize that I was lost, but I couldn't for the life of me get unlost. I wandered around like a mad woman for 1/2 an hour before I finally figured it out. During this period of wandering, I passed a black guy leaning up against a wall. He watched me as I walked by, and after I had passed him he said "excuse me" very quietly. I wasn't sure whether it was directed at me or not, so I just kept walking. I turned a few corners, realized I had gone the wrong way again, turned around again, and saw him again. It almost freaked me out to realize that he was following me, but he wasn't terribly close to me so I couldn't be positive that he was following me. But as I went by him again, he started walking with me. "Hi, I'm Donnell", he says. "I'm Aimee. Nice to meet ya. Know where the Verizon Center is?" "Nope. I'm from Leesburg; I have no idea where it is. Can I call you sometime?" At this point, I was a bit confused...is he a stalker, pick pocket, rapist, creeper, etc? "Ummmmm...no. Sorry." "Oh, ok. How bout you call me?" "Um. No. Sorry." "Ok, bye." That was the last I saw of him. I love random, innocent encounters.

2. The guys who ride the horses that pull the state funeral carriages at Arlington all seem to be young and good looking. And apparently they just drive their carriages out to some obscure area during the lunch hour and enjoy a picnic. I stumbled upon the black horses while wandering around Arlington. The 4 good looking guys I met let me pet their horses. It was wonderful ;)

3. While eating at a really really small El Salvadorian restaurant, an older French dude sat next to me (I was eating at the bar). He was apparently really big into the "free love" ideology from the hippy era, as it only took him 20 minutes to start trying to talk me into accepting the keys to his apartment. Wowza. I was very glad when one of the ladies staying in my room at the hostel came in...I don't think she expected to be used as a wingman that night.

There were many more random encounters, including a night out at The Reef with Chris, Daniel, Simon, Andre, Kent, and an Argentinan who's name I couldn't catch. Super fun. I should get to work now though :(

For my next trip, I'm thinking either Toronto for the Royal or Oklahoma for Bedlam. Or maybe both.