There are days (or weekends) that are just a joy, not because of anything spectacularly extraordinary happening, but simply because here, now, in this place, life is good.
City team chill time post taco feast.
There’s bus rides to DJY, which means a chance to listen to music, and happiness that hits when the next song that comes up is the version of Saint Patrick’s Breastplate that Tyler made for me, and all of the memories of the terrible, intense, crazy, wonderful, exhausting, confounding, tear-filled, sleep-deprived months that February and March (and maybe April too…?) were. Memories of riding around Bloomington and walking around Bloomington and how desperately wrecked life felt for so many people all at once, like a night that lasted for weeks and weeks. But morning came. And I think, God is good.
Then Boyhood Bravery comes up on shuffle and listening to that I think about all of the adventures that were packed into the last half of my time in Bloomington, the time that felt so terminal, because we knew that an end was coming. Especially this past summer. I think about the trip to the fire tower with Natalie and Tyler and Luke and Kimmy, about flying squirrels and the beauty of America, about blasting music and singing and late perfect nights, about saying yes to adventure. About the Tautology Club and the surprise party that they threw for me. And I think, God is good. I am loved.
How I felt about sunshine and warm temperatures today: I will live on my balcony!!
There’s the shopping trip at Walmart that actually goes just as smoothly as anyone could have hoped for or imagined. The hospitality of the team at Guangya made manifest in tacos and Mario Kart and hot chocolate, in crazy hair-dos and reading books to little kids, in finding sudden connections with city teammates, laughing at a goofy dog and singing the words of an ancient creed together. There are spontaneous trips to get ice-cream and Reese’s blizzards that, perplexingly, taste far more like coffee than either chocolate or peanut butter.
We're basically identical twins.
"You look like a troll." ...yes, I do. I'm not quite sure what Jessie was going for.
There are more students giving me advice about how to buy a guitar than I know what to do with.
There is sunshine.
There are succulents, finally, for only 10 yuan each (about $1.35) that survive the hour long, jam-packed bus ride back to Chuan Wai.
There’s new music to listen to and gingko trees turning golden and the warmest temperatures we’ve had in a couple weeks.
There’s the joy of talking to friends. I am so grateful for technology. For feeling as if I am, in fact, back in the Powells’ kitchen, marveling at Joshua Levi’s driving skills, seeing Caleb when he stops by. My heart overflows. God is good. I am loved.
"YOUR BOYFRIEND JUST FELL DOWN THE STAIRS," Susan texted me the other day. I think it was sympathy.
There’s the view of the huge, luminous moon from my bedroom window.
God is good.