My time at the Ark is coming to a close. In less than 3 days, I will be on a crowded plane, trying to act less afraid than I'll feel inside.

John is playing pool by himself Nick and Kris are attempting to re-string Steph's Ukulele. Jenna and Char are talking. Ashley is watching I love Lucy. It seems like a lifetime ago that I arrived here, where everyone was so over-eager to spend time with one another that it felt like a never ending daycare or perpetual recess. But now, here we are, doing are separate activities in the same room, as comfortable as old friends....but likewsie as disinterested, in some respects. How sad it is that we ever stop being in awe of one another as creations fearfully and wonderfully made by God. How sad it is that we do not constantly see one another as works of art, better than any museum or Cathedral ceiling.

(Please note, this next section was written after an intense night of watching Pride and Prejudice. Therefore, it is over-dramatic and over romantic, but hopefully you get something out of it before you vomit)

In anticipating leaving this place, I have a great melancholy that I can't shake. I seem to be the kind of person who misses a place before I have even left it. I get attatched to places and things so much that I always feel like nothing could be better than the life I am experiencing at the present moment. I felt very much like that before I left to come to the ark (my "list of fears" blog sums that up nicely). It's ironic that now I find myself unwilling to leave the place I once feared.

But why should I fear? What have I to fear? Has not God shown me that my fears are always irrational, and that he always provides love and comfort, peace and beauty wherever I find myself? It is a terrible part of the human condition that we fear the unknown; for as Christians, should we not rest assured that the future IS known, and that God has good plans to prosper us and give us a hope and a future? I suppose I fear the unknown despite God's plans because I also understand that although I have a loving God, it is no guarantee that this life will be easy, or "good" in the human sense of the word. Our good is not his good. Our sense of being "loved" is not always his love. Therefore I fear. I fear being pushed out of my cushioned chair and hitting the pavement hard (metaphorically speaking). But who should fear this when they have God's hand to hold?

As this small but significant portion of my life ends, I pray that I do not dwell on the changes taking place here as negative. To be able to flow serenely with the ebb and flow of the tides of change is a virtue surely, one that I wish I was better able to acquire. Places change, people change, relationships change, but God does not change. God's hand does not let go. Therefore, bestill this heart, and bring on the waves.