wrestle

I had a hard time falling asleep last night, and woke up to the sound of tension.

I had a dream that I need space to ponder, haven't gotten that yet.

I went to a friend's house. We were supposed to walk, but she felt ill and so we just sat instead, drank tea, talked ideas. In high school, she led a bible study for a small group of my friends, and I've always considered her a sort of mentor. The house is warm, full of books and paintings. (She's an artist; a painter.) Though now I've grown into myself and my ideas and I sometimes disagree now, with everyone, there is much to be learned from just listening, just resting in the knowledge that we both know Jesus, there is a safety there. She brews green tea and we drink it plain. She gives me When Helping Hurts to borrow. Another book to add to my long pile. (I love it that way though.)

When I leave an hour and a half later, I drive through the woods, an extra detour along my favorite winding road. It looks much like Fót and makes my heart positively ache each time I drive through.

I'm having a funk day. I think that's normal, sometimes you gotta take a break from being happy and wrestle the ideas, and the experiences, and God. And for me, I need alone time and space to do that. In college it worked great. Today is my first funk day here (after five months, so it's not like it happens all the time) and there is not space.