October 18, 2003

I am home and I always was. I wanted a higher salary and more preaching time. That is a metaphorical one. I know it, I see it—and I am paying for it. The prayer now is simple—God I am coming home as soon as you let me.

Peace, people always say, is the underlying factor for determining the will of God. After almost three months away, two of it literally in depression and fighting my anger (and often NOT fighting), one DAY back and I am my normal self.

Duh.

I had an awesome day. The truth is that even though I am having a wonderful time, it is all doing normal stuff. Even though I don’t go to wedding showers every day, mostly those bore me anyway (this one was an exception, though), but I mean I am living this weekend in a normal routine. Church stuff, being with friends, dancing at Shachah. I got up early and drove to Dallas, and I will go to church tomorrow, have a busy day, get up for early morning prayer Monday. All of that is very very normal. In 36 hours here I have already been able to truly minister to two people. All of that counts.

So I have rental guides from Dallas, Tyler, and wonder about other places. I love Shachah. They are like family to me. I am not sure I want to live apart from them—which means I basically have to choose between the best boss in the world and the best ministry in the world.

A part of me still hopes I can come back at midterm, but I think I am going to have to stick it out. Also if I am supposed to be in LA for Melissa, then I need to be there the year she is there. Another Shachah person hugged me today and said “I am so glad Melissa is out there with you. I feel so much better about that.” That does matter, so I have to remember it too.

All I can say is that I know I am coming home and probably have known it from the second that I started admitting to myself I wanted to. I can explain a lot of things externally but I have no words for what is inside. But I know with a perfect solid peace—not a shred of anxiety. It is easier too because this is not a high—not a glamorous magical spiritually perfect world—but truly God’s world.

Bigger salary, more preaching time and a mountaintop high. And there is no way I would have let anyone tell me this 6 months ago.

The shower was incredible. I was not one bit bored. In fact it was really funny because I won everything! I am the one who NEVER wins this kind of stuff. I am not even sure what all I have in my big bag. When my name was drawn after embarrassingly winning the clothes pin game and the foreign language quiz, Maxine (the bride) exclaimed with redundancy Susan Tyrrell” and everyone laughed as I embarrassingly trudged up for my third present! The clothes pin game striped us of all dignity as we had to take pins from anyone we heard say “no” “ummm” or who crossed her legs. So by the end I was catching everyone at a much higher rate than I was being caught. The shower was hosted by Mrs. Ginger Lindsay. Her husband is, I think, the president (or something majorly high up like that) in Christ for the Nations—the daughter-in-law of spiritual mom Freda Lindsay. Her good friend and also major CFNI contributor and teacher Alta Hatcher was in attendance. After serving and being at multiple women’s conferences with these women of God and hearing them speak and seeing them lead. I confessed to Mrs. Hatcher later that I was now removing things from the clothes of these women of God I respected so much from afar! Fortunately she had a sense of humor about it and we formally met. Of course now they know me and my name because I was approximately 25 multi-colored clothes pins attached to me in every area possible above my waist—including my ears and glasses!

I saw all the old Shachah people I have not seen in a very long time. We really are our own group—totally UNEXCLUSIVE, but very much connected with those who choose to be a part of us. It is very special.

My discerning eyes picked up on something interesting that contradicted something publicly presented—NOT about Shachah—and concerned me a bit—I found out only as much as the rebellious eyes would allow me. Appearances.

Aunty embraced me deeply when I came in this morning—even Pastor hugged me after his usually teasing—I told him he had to hug me anyway. I can’t believe I have to go back and live without hugs for more time again. Californians can’t hug! I mean, really!

So the truth is fully out. When I go home I am going to be open that I am there for a year. That means at work too—by being open some people will lay off the rigidity because they will see me as a lame duck—so maybe I can teach a bit. Of course it may get me fired, but if it does I can’t help it. I won’t TRY to get fired—that would not be cool, but Hasmik and I are having a discussion—next week if her secretary can set me up—and we are going to discuss what happened last week, how it made me feel and, most importantly, that in her three visits to my room she has not ONCE asked what my kids are LEARNING. I am—for the millionth time in my life—going to point out the truth and hope it doesn’t get me squished. But I am going to tell her how I feel—I will tell her nicely, professionally and respectfully but I will be totally honest. Basically I need to tell her that I did not accept a job to be a robot and want to know if I am going to be given any leeway to teach or not. Fortunately I am good with words and am confident I can say this well. But the fact is, well spoken or not, it is going against the grain, and likely will not be well received—though it is impossible to predict. But in order to save my work sanity I have to be honest. I told her I was creative and different—if she didn’t want a teacher she should not have hired me knowing these things. Period.

Anyway, I am currently so sleepy I wonder if I will be functional at all next week! After getting in at midnight and promptly setting off the house alarm—which by the way is VERY loud and scary—I went to sleep around 12:30 with the alarms set for 6:30 for Shachah. But alas! My whacked out body continued its whackedness. Truth is, I have experienced terrible physical health almost since arriving in CA. I started work with a cold and ever since then it has been one thing after another—not like me! Anyway, before that I woke up suddenly (still never sleep through the night!) and I felt SICK. I mean, I really thought I was going to throw up. I was scared too because I thought if I was that sick I could not go to Shachah and that would be a nightmare. I was so sleepy I could not think—I had no idea what time it was. All I could think to do was pray and I was too tired or that. So I said “Jesus” calling on the power of His name. I eked that out about three times over several minutes before I heard the alarms go off and wondered if I could possibly function through the day as tired as I was, even if I was healthy. And then, excuse the grossness, I tasted last night’s 10:30 dinner—and only meal all day. I knew what was happening—severe acid reflux attack. Only it made me sick. I usually do not have trouble eating late at night—but boy did I! This is the second time Pizza Hut pasta has made me sick. And only the second time I have had it (in 6 years). So no more. I felt better when I sat up and thanked God, after a quick and fruitless search of the medicine here, that Prilosec, a top reflux drug, just went on sale over-the-counter so I stopped and got a box on my way. I stopped in a grocery store. I stopped in a grocery store with workers working where people told me to have a nice day. I drove the interstate where people were more polite than not and you could be alone without cars bumper-to-bumper. And as I drove home at night I savored the darkness. Beautiful Texas nights—and the big Texas sky in the day. I love Texas. I can truly understand these people who come to CA from here and feel so bad. I know why Jenna’s friend wanted dirt. I may just take some home myself.

On my way to Shachah I prayed a lot—I cried a lot too. Leaving here will be hard. It is not glamorized now. Once I got to Tyler I realized that it is hardly the perfect place. But it is my place. No place is perfect but location DOES matter.

Oh how much I have learned. My heart was breaking, agonizing as I prayed. Next year seems a lifetime.

Deep in my heart is Texas.