Honey From The Rock

Life recently has been bits of surreal strung together by moments of clarity with sudden falls into overwhelming panic that then recede into uneasy oblivion. The sunshine helps to blend the surreal with the oblivion and a good enough dose of clarity that I feel okay. The to do list grows and grows and all that my heart really desires is to do art. I want to write. I want to create something. I think my other life, the one that I visualize after college, will need some activity that is complete construction. Pottery or wood working or something gritty that I need my hands and my focus. And I will also need to write. I am realizing how non-negotiable that area is. Writing can't go.

I have the most awesome family. Today Ezekiel Jubal Freel is getting on a plane headed for Europe where he will visit like seven countries and live out of a big orange backpack. Isaac Sean Freel is in Afghanistan as we speak, giving orders and being the world's best boss. Colin Paul Freel is trucking today and thank the good Lord, coming through Chattanooga, TN, for dinner. And Esther Freel is praying, as always, anchoring us and keeping us sane (and going to start a blueberry and raspberry farm this summer). My family is crazy, abnormal, and wonderful.

I'm sure I've probably posted this before, but here it is again. It's good. And when I say good, I mean good as in speaking of hard grace, hard-won forgiveness.

This week has been all work and newness and first days. I hate first days. I don't sleep well the night before and my shoulders stay in knots and I can't relax to save my life. I've gotten better at faking how much I hate first days but I realize its really just cramming this introvert body into the expectations of an extrovert. I like people and I even like meeting them, but it wears me out to do it all day in a new place. And I'm okay with that reality. I wish I was an extrovert, but I'm not. It's like tomatoes. I wish I liked them, could wander out to the garden and pluck a sun-warmed fresh tomato off the vine like every other person in my family, but I can't. I hate tomatoes. I'm on my second cup of coffee and I've taken it slow because I'm doing it solo this morning. Roommates scattered and friends are all on spring break (I'm seriously really jealous.) But along with all this coffee, I've been reading my Bible and examining some s