Big Puffy White Things...
You know that moment? Isn’t it interesting how something popped into your head, it was one of those moments. One where you know that changed the course of everything. These aren’t always the huge ones, the seeing your boyfriend down on one knee or holding a pen over the documents of a large purchase. They can be the little ones, the first time you see a baby crying, and you smile knowing that it could be one day, or someone what think is not too much younger than you refer to you as Miss, and the fact that you are no longer a child starts to sink in. I had one of those moments. Sitting in the airplane on my way to London, and feeling maybe just a little overwhelmed, I looked out my window. The clouds were so large, dense, and puffy that they gave the allure of security and peace. Surely such things that look so magnificent would catch me if I so chose to jump. They would feel like the world’s most soft bed. It was fun to speculate about the clouds like a small child would. However, the moment that I realized; which was truly from the beginning, that the allure of peace and security was false, the moment hit me. I was truly on my way to a brand new adventure and phase of my life. I had no clouds to jump into, no way to stay on Park Place and not “Pass Go,” and truthfully little to no understanding of what my emotions would be doing once that plane touched down, but if leaving Seatac airport and my time in the sky to London was any gauge, well then, I was ready to be a near wreck once I breathed in that old English air.
It is not the first time in my very short life that I have felt the curse of love. No, not in the romantic scorn sort of way, but in that truth that is so universal, the truth that love is a double-edged sword of joy and aguish. Now, anguish might be overstating things by just a little, but lets face it, leaving behind all those I love was no easy feat. To experience the security and warmth of my parents embraces for the last time for a few months was something I had done before with no problem, but this time was so different. The knowledge that once I came home again, it would be only for a short time. That truthfully, even though a significant portion of my heart is left behind in Washington, my physical presence and a piece of my heart is going to be mainly in the United Kingdom for the next three years. My heart and head is overwhelmed by a cacophony of emotions. Overwhelmed? Yep. Frazzled? Just a little. Nervous? Who wouldn’t be. At Peace? Absolutely.God has been so good to me throughout this entire process. From orchestrating my investigation of schools over here, which really started with Sara studying in Oxford, to giving me direction of where to apply, to having people in my life who stood by me and wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote (I think you get the gist of it) endless letters, really packets of recommendation, to an almost unsettling contentment of choice of school, to getting my Visa to me on-time, to the lady at the check in counter for Air Canada who checked by extra baggage for less than 50% of what we had planned for, gave my Daddy a security pass to go with me to the gate, and gave me incredible seats for both my flights. Yes, there have been hard moments. There were times where the security of those clouds were far too tempting, that retreating to child-like ways, and not following the path put in front of me seemed all too easy to grasp. God could have used it all, but I have a beautiful sense of quite peace that in the center of my heart. I may let my emotions and thoughts run away with me, but knowing that at my center, there is a light of peace and strength and contentment, and all I need is to call out, and the light always overcomes the darkness.
Purple Clouds... Sorry Prince, So Close, but no Cigar
As a Pacific Northwestener, I have that sense of self-expertness when it comes to Sunsets. Just in Washington alone, there are vast arrays of different sunsets one can enjoy. Over mountains, ocean, bays, valleys, fields, gorges, and desert. Tonight in Bournemouth, UK. I experienced my second sunset. Now, I was around for it last night, but lets be honest. I was so exhausted from my long day of traveling, that I am pretty sure I thought “pretty,” shrugged, and walked back to my hotel, which is about three blocks away from the seaside. Tonight I made it a point to wander down towards the evening. I sat in a KFC, yes, as if in Kentucky Fried Chicken, that overlooked a good part of the boardwalk as twilight set in. The water of the English Channel is blue. Yes, I know, all water is blue, but is a lot more blue than any water we have back home, well except for maybe that clear blue of the alpine lakes in the Summer that hurts your eyes to look at directly because of its brilliancy. So, I am overlooking this bright blue water, with white sand, and a twilight sky with just a few clouds in the sky.
The clouds were not puffy, no they were those wispy ones, the ones that when you look at you think that just a slight wind would spread them apart like a little child blowing on a dandelion. I walked outside to listen to the waves crash on the beach. Funny how I tie that sound to home in my heart, for it is not too often that you hear waves crashing on the beach of the Puget Sound, well at least not at my house. But I know that they do, and I think of the times I spent out on the Olympic Peninsula, with my body turned toward the Pacific. Thinking of life, God, friends, family, and a lot of the time nothing, with the waves as my soundtrack, and often times my lullaby. So, as I listen to the waves on the beach in Bournemouth, there is a sense of home that was truly a blessing. The boardwalk itself is high above the water, and the town is set up on a cliff, and the pattern is continued as I look to the left and right, with the cliffs spotted or filled with trees.
The sky continues to darken, but the colors are not as eclectic as home. No, the sky is tones of blues and purples. Nothing to bright, but muted, like the color pallet of a bachelor pad that decided that it was alright to maybe have a little color besides black, white, and brown leather. Those muted colors are what took over the sky. They are not bold, nor are they awe-inspiring, but they are strong. They fought back the darkness just as much as our vibrant pinks, oranges, and reds back home. They stood against the blue ocean, and created an odd sense of contentment. It was funny to watch. People seemed to slow, and become more hushed. Other than the few rowdy bunches of early teenagers who truly have no idea what is going around them, except for themselves, and the young babies who cry, well because that is what they do. As night crept further in, and people started gearing up for well, nightlife, the sense of contentment vanished along with the muted purples and blues. I walked back to my hotel to try to arrange some of my stuff into a semblance of order, (paying close attention to the crosswalks mind you! They take them very seriously around here.) I speculate if sunsets around here are always strong and steady or if I will see brilliancy. I wonder if I write about all this humdrum if people will really care haha. I wonder as I slide my key into the lock of the front door if I will remember that a light that shines too brightly will burn out quickly, but if it burns to its given strength, that it will last for a while. God places reminders in my life all the time. To fallow him, stay in His will, and look for contentment in that.
