I finally get it now: I need God.

So I really should be working on research right now. And believe me, I will. But I have to write about something else at the moment.

I'll try to keep a somewhat steady blog up over the next three weeks. They'll likely be just very brief postings. But I'll try.

Okay, where to even begin. This class is promising and proving already that it will stretch me in just about every possible way. Academically. Professionally. Emotionally. Spiritually. Physically. Psychologically, maybe. 

The more I know what I have to do, the more difficult it is. But the more I know what I have to do, the more reassuring it is. 

Perhaps, one reason why I believe journalism has grown my relationship with God more than perhaps anything else is because of this very reason – it has forced me to the point where I cannot do things on my own. I'm incapable of accomplishing what's at hand on my own. And I'm scared. Journalism, and this course will be no exception, has pushed me to the limits of my own capabilities, talents and comfort. 

The task is too exhausting.

But God.

The work load too demanding.

But God.

The contacts too inaccessible, too frightening.

But God.

The information is too overwhelming.

But God.

I'm breaking.

But God.

I feel alone in this.

But God.

I am utterly and totally worthless and incapable.

But God.

For nonbelievers, this realization that they need God can bring about salvation. I, on the other hand, have been raised in a Christian environment my entire life. God was just always there. Never have I in the 18 years of my life up to last year realized this desperate, all-consuming need for him as I have in the past year.

I vividly recall, in August of 2008, just before coming to Biola, crying out to God, pleading with him to make me feel a need for him. I wanted to need him. Well, I wanted to feel that need for him. Of course, I've always known that I need God. But never have I felt that need so violently as in the past year.

Perhaps, journalism. This profession. This calling, if you will, is an answer to that prayer. 

I've never thought of it that way before. Before this very moment, actually.

I need God.

I need him each and every day. Wow, that's becoming so much more apparent. Wow, that's becoming so much more lucid. As I come across things I can't conquer in my feeble human capacity.

It becomes ever clearer to me how God is chipping away at my arrogant independence. For that's really what my independence boils down to, it seems. Arrogance. Pride. 

As I mentioned earlier in a different blog, I'm realizing my need for people. But so much more importantly, I'm feeling that need, that desperate, heart-twisting, agonizing need for a Savior.

I really don't know how non-Christians do it. I really, really don't. Without my faith, I am truly lost.

Not quite sure what to say next. Oh, I could ramble on and on about just about anything. Even other important things. But I can't.

I hate time, sometimes. 

Such an infuriating, inflexible dictator he plays.

Musings from 30,000 feet

So I wrote this, but obviously, couldn't publish it, while on the plane yesterday. Please humor my spastic nature:

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January 4, 2010. Who knows when.

What do I do when I'm 30,000 feet above the air with not much to do? Well, write, of course. What else would I do?

I'm not entirely sure what I am going to write here in the next approximately 22 minutes (That's the expected lifetime of this battery charge, according to my screen. Oh, wait – just dropped to 21. Dangit.)

Perhaps the most mentionable worthy piece of information is that, for the first time in seven days, I am looking out upon brown ground. Yes, that's right – there are only splotches of snow. I'm pretty positive we're somewhere above Nebraska right now. That's one state I have yet to visit, or even see from the lovely view inside airport glass.

The cold really wasn't nearly as awful as I expected it to be in Minnesota. As long as you didn't have to stay outside long, that is. This morning at oh, 4 a.m., 2 a.m. L.A. time, my mom took five minutes out in the -6 degree air to gather her belongings. I forgot to bring my mittens. That was pretty bad. I honestly think I let slip a less-than-appropriate word or two out of my trembling, probably blue (although of course, I couldn't see them,) lips. Oh, the times we've had, my mother and I.

I can't even keep track of how many times we managed to get lost (ooh ooh the plane is turning creepily ... my stomach feels weird. Probably has something to do, too, with the fact that I've eaten basically nothing but junk food since yesterday morning. That's what happens when I don't get to run. Pouts) Okay, wow, what was I saying? Okay, well next time we travel to an outside city, I'M driving. I don't care if you have to be 25. I'll break the rules. I don't know if I've ever met anyone with a worse sense of direction than my mother, bless her dear, dear heart. :)

So, longish tale made short, I now have three roundtrip flight passes to anywhere in the continental United States. Actually, I think there are some to Jamaica and other random places, too. Basically, we volunteered to take a later flight to alievite the people clogging. My mom and I thought we were just getting two free roundtrip flights (aha, only >_>), but it turns out we're really getting six. Total. Dang. 

This means well, many things. A friend interning in D.C. this spring invited me to come stay with her and check out the city before I (hopefully!) move there for the summer. Ooh ooh we're landing in Denver now! Ok, got to go now.!!!!