I am in California—again. My third trip in two-and-a-half months. But this is the most realistic of all. I am in a weird time right now. I am second guessing everything I have thought. Everything was perfect til I quit my job, and then enemy fire came. After losing my driver’s license on the heels of almost everything going wrong, I started to see it was one huge attack and not something else, and I prayed and took authority on my way to the airport because I knew if I didn’t more would come.

The weather here made me glad to be here despite the fears. I left Dallas when it was 100 degrees and arrived when it was 66 degrees (and gained two hours so actually it was only an hour later than LA was 66 to Dallas’ 100!). I got chilly outside. I love it.

It was good to see Terry. I just connect with her so well and love her so much. And Darrell has to be one of my all time favorite men I have ever known. He is just a good, good guy. So it is good to be here. But it is all different. I am not sure what is going to happen.

I have no summer job suddenly and that is terrifying. I don’t even like LA and yet I might be here in a few weeks! Of course without a job here that is hanging in the balance also. When I go home Tuesday I may have nothing to do. If that is the case I will probably go volunteer at Shachah because if I sit around home I will go stir crazy. I just need direction and that is what I am praying.

If I have none when I leave I think I am going to have to work it out to come back June 12 for a job fair. Terry will not be here but I am thinking if I can sack out on Jenna’s couch one or two nights til she does get here, maybe we can move my trip up a bit and it all might come together.

I praise God that I had an easy easy time proceeding through airport security deposit having no driver’s license. In fact, it was smoother than usual, I think. I pray for the same smoothness renting a car. I think I need to go to the ocean and pray Monday. It will be good. But more than anything I need that road sign because if I start a position July 1 then everything has to happen fast.

And then there is Clear Stream. So much of me wants to go. I do not necessarily believe that is the bestthing for me, but it feels good. I think it is my escape, the thought I harbor in the back of my mind that says I have an out. People who like to be in control need an out.

I just read tomorrow's paper online. The top story is about the Tyler ISD school board meeting Thursday. Dr. Hayes' resignation is the lead story. Later in the story it shows a list of other personnel leaving. My name is there. The board accepted my resignation.

And I cried.

Glitches glitches glicthes. This was the kind of day where you wish you had never crawled out from under the covers. It was awful; it really was. The worst part was the financial glitches. As of now I have no summer job, no TRS money until one to two months after I move and no money for a move I think I have to make in three weeks or so. I have a place to stay, but that is all. Robin has a glitch with taking me then. Everything suddenly seems crazy and I feel terrible and poor. Yet I do not feel I am wrong about going. I am not always sure I want to go, but want to and supposed to are two different things. I have cried more today than in weeks previous. Sobbed. I have no answers tonight. I talked to both Terry and Robin, but I have no answers. So I went to work. From almost 8 to 11 I worked on my Texas movie. It is exporting right now. I love making movies. This was fun. But sometimes I wish I was going to Clear Stream. There is a teeny part of me that almost wishes this would all fall through—that I am totally wrong about the God stuff—and that I could call Dr. Hayes and says, hey, that job offer, give it to me. I could swing that. It would be great. How many people get to work for their friends and still have respect for their authority as a boss? It would be so easy. I leave tomorrow night for LA, and right now I don’t even want to go. Really.

I have a job interview at Walter Reed Middle School in North Hollywood Monday afternoon. It is a strong possibility, but even if that is not it, July 1 is looking like the moving day. It seems like everything is pointing that way. No one cares if I want another month (-: God always moves fast once something is in motion, and even though I know nothing, I have a feeling it is July. This, of course, brings up all sorts of panic—most of it is financial. I needed to work this summer to make money to move so how can I go without it?

The other issue is rather major. The INS. My appt. is July 14 in Dallas. I sat next to an immigration lawyer on my flight home last week and she told me that you have to be sworn in in the area in which you live, and that transferring it to CA could add a year to the process. This is a real downer, so I don’t know how that will work. I called Robin tonight and asked her to bring me LOTS of boxes. It is time to pack. I just feel it inside me.

Tonight I asked Pastor Steven if I could do the dance before I left and he said yes, that they would like to tie it into praying for me and anointing me. I am glad because I really wanted to do it here.

I have two more days of work—until my college job starts Tuesday. The kids are taking it better than their parents. I miss Dr. Hayes already. How do you say good bye to such good friends? I mean, I am saying good bye to Robin, but I know I will come back to visit her and even though we will see each other less, the quality of our time will be greater. But not Doctor ( I have dubbed this as his new first name). I could possibly not ever see him again. He stinks at email (-: I say good bye to one of the best friends I have had on June 9. That is probably what aches the most right now. You don’t just run down to Starbuck’s and order a great friend with your latte.

I sent my letter to the editor about him today. I wonder if they will print it. It is rather volatile. I basically come against all those how backbite against him. I will reprint it in here after I see if they run it. I had to wait til we both resigned or I could have been in trouble!

It is a completely overwhelming thought to imagine that one month from now I could be in Los Angeles. Can that really be?

I had an incredible morning with God today. It was so funny. I put on my Pointe shoes and did a simple ballet exercise from a Shachah tape with them on. When my feet hurt too much I took them off, but in that one simple exercise to the same worship song the warm ups are always to, I felt the presence of God in my living room. Then all I could do was dance. I danced and danced and danced this morning. Mostly I danced prophetically, knowing something was happening, and then I did “Dance with Me.” Even that was better. I got my intro tonight. There are 32 counts—slow counts!—before the first lyrics and I could not figure out what to do, but tonight as Pastor was teaching on the floor, I suddenly saw it. I have to work it out tomorrow, but it is a perfect way to use space, to get in place for the first choreography and also to illustrate the joy of running into the Bridegroom's presence. I think there are just some teeny tiny areas I need to refine, but I don’t know that a dance is ever done, same as a paper is never written. It is done now, but could be better, but I don’t push it—I wait for God. This is His dance. I am supposed to do it June 2. Will I? Will I still be in Tyler preparing to move the next week? Will I be on my way? I wish I knew. Or maybe I don’t—maybe if I knew I would not be so calm.

Well, today was not nearly as hard as I thought. I guess because I was excited as well as emotional. When I saw Dr. Hayes this morning and handed him the letter, of course he knew, and it was so hard then because I will miss him so much. He is one of my best friends. That sounds funny, but he is. He has believed in me when no one else did. He has seen the best in me in areas no one else could have due to the fact that he knows me professionally. He is the first person I ever worked for who appreciated my unique ways and gifts. He honored me where others attacked me. He has been a wise voice of reason as a Christian I respect. He has been a person to laugh with. He is a real friend whose first name will probably always be Doctor to me because how can I ever call him Fred? The only likely chance I ever have of seeing him again is if I get to a conference in Houston and meet him for a business lunch. That is the downside to having male friends. But I know I will always email and be in touch. You don’t throw away friends like that. He was the really hard part today, I think. I just got teary eyed and for once he did not tell me to get over it (an inside joke). He understood, probably heightened because he and his wife have been through the same thing recently. His resignation is official tomorrow but the whole school knows anyway. I knew a long time ago. If you carefully read my blog there will be references to “more changes came today through a friend” and lines like that. I have to admit it has made it easier to leave knowing he will not be here. It is less like I am throwing out a perfect situation. That was hard, but we both understood. I miss him already. He has truly been one of my best friends, in a unique way, kind of like David I guess. I am starting to cry as I write this. It is so hard to leave a good friend. “You are a good person, Miss Tyrrell,” he said. So are you, Doctor, so are you.

Then there were the kids. Lindsey S. came in after first period demanding “how long have you known?” She was referring to Dr. Hayes and thought maybe that was what our meeting was about. She was the first to ask me if I was leaving. Sarah was the toughest. She guessed and the tears came. She had to miss the after school meeting because of another meeting, but she called me when I was in Dr Hayes’ office. She was mad. Very mad. I understood because she is a lot like me. She said her parents would be mad too. But I can’t stay for any one person. Amazingly of my core kids, most really did understand. I told them it was God. Period. And they got it because they have faith. What neat kids I am leaving behind (sob). A couple cried and said they were mad, but I think they knew I was not leaving because of some perfect job offer or something but because I had to. They are smart; they knew the difference. There were lots of hugs and I promised them a party at my place this summer! But I think they will be okay if they know they are getting a good teacher. That is the challenge. Dr Hayes leaves June 9! We don’t even have a month! It is all so sudden.

It is so weird to write freely on here after months of talking in code. I feel okay, but then I wonder, have I worked this up so much in my head that I THINK it is okay when I just quit the best, most wonderful job ever with kids I adore? I fully intend to stay in the lives of some of them. I love them so much

Interestingly enough today two of my former students from this year came back to visit so I even got to tell them. God is good. It is still a wild experience that I can’t quite process yet. In some ways it feels natural. The year is over, and I would not ordinarily see them anyway.

I started working on my Texas video at work today. I will have it done to take to LA Friday. I have great footage of the kids.

I called the recruiter in LA today. I have to call back tomorrow, but he has a prospective place for me to interview. Unfortunately there is major placement fair on June 12. I might have to find a way to fly back. I simply do not have anymore money for flying The great news is that it is all tax deductible, but right now I still have to come up with it. I think the people at American Airlines know me by name I am starting to see the same videos and have the same issue of the inflight magazine.

Everything is in motion.

I did it. I resigned this morning. I can finally write it down because all the kids are in school and won't be able to read it before I can tell them. I gave the letter to Dr. Hayes before school. I cried. He looked a bit teary-eyed himself, and he has accepted his job also and will officially resign tomorrow. This is so hard. I think I expect everyone from LA to offer me jobs and everything else now that I have taken the big step, but the day is mostly over and is very normal. I guess it only a big deal to me (-:

Tomorrow is the day. I have to just do it. I am sure. I know. I have peace, And I am putting it off because it is easier and safer. But after this weekend I know more fully. So it is time. I emailed the kids asking them to meet me after classes. I will also send them notes to come and make an announcement. I am not ready in some ways, and I had an icky night emotionally. Sometimes we battle most with people we love most, but it was bad timing (is it ever good?). But still it is time. Below is the letter I wrote my friends upon returning from NYC, with extra stuff I cut out form the original—details from the latest adventure! It was a great trip, one of the best. But my feet felt like they were going to fall off by the end. If I was snot dancing, I was walking. Today I slept so late I am embarrassed to say. I have not slept this late in years. But I guess I needed it. I am glad. A new whirlwind begins in the morning.


This was honestly the BEST Shachah conference I have been to. It was not much different than others on the surface but many things for me heightened it. For one, I have been with them so long now that it just flows better for me. Also, I finally know more than ever. The fact is, I don’t think I realized how much I knew until it was time to do it. We started, of course, by playing the beginner tambourine syllabus. I played it better than I did at my assessment last week. Then we demonstrated various dances we were teaching and things like that. During flags, I found out I had learned more of the flags in a few tries at home than I thought and easily picked up more. I also managed to learn all but three patterns of the NEXT level of tambourine. Things that looked so very hard were not so much and I realized that I can do this as well as anyone. With dance we taught three of them and two were ones I had learned. The third is a jazzy number that I never picked up or really tried to. I am too ballet I guess! During one, the Alisan bells dance—a Christian Chinese mountain dance we did in March in Plano, Aunty, our leader, was onstage alone demonstrating it. Melissa, who is my regular teacher and her daughter, saw me and told me to go on stage with her and help demonstrate. Good old Melissa has more faith in me than anyone. I was thinking, I don’t know this well enough to teach it! That was the dance I did with little practice because I stayed longer in Los Angeles over spring break! Fortunately, Brandi, another Shachah person, came onstage and I stood below, but then there is a partnering part. Brandi called me onstage and so there I was demonstrating a dance, helping to teach people what to do. There is nothing that will make you get it right faster than that! But it was okay, it really was! Later we had to show everyone and I ha to stand in there in front with Brandi, but it was okay. We had recently learned another dance and I have fallen in love with it. I think I got to do that three times. I want to teach it to people just to keep it alone because the message is so incredibly beautiful. I guess what I am saying is that all of it was so effective because I knew enough to flow and not just scramble to do a bit here and there. And what happened when I saw that is that I saw the power behind it and the teaching of it all and how effectively it can be used. God really spoke to me just during the teaching sessions either. My vision is growing and expanding. Melissa came up to me later and said “Next conference you are teaching.” I told her, but I am moving away, remember. She said that didn’t matter, I would fly in! Of course that is the truth anyway. I fully intend to be back at Blue Mountain In PA this fall. I have to wait to see which job I get first so that I am sure about days off, but if at all possible I will go. All of this trip was wonderful, but I don't think I will ever become accustomed to the absolute joy and freedom I see in people when they realize they can be this free in God and see the power in it all...

I am surprised my waistline was also not growing and expanding because in New York food is abundant and incredible! I ate my way through the city. But I also walked my way through the city. I walked miles and miles every day. Being in New York is like living on a Stairmaster because even to change subways you have to walk up and down levels and levels of stairs. It all depends on where you are but the way I got from my hotel in Queens to the church in the Bronx was to walk five blocks to the train station by Shea Stadium, walk up two flight of stirs there, take the train into Manhattan and get off at Grand Central station and walk up, I think it was three, maybe four, flights of stairs there, take the train to the Bronx and get off, walking DOWN this time and walking 4 blocks to the church. Keep in mind this was only getting to the church. But each morning I left extra early and went into Manhattan for a bagel and to look around. It was pretty exciting being free in the city, no one telling me I could not go anywhere—well, almost! Pastor Michael did not like the idea of my taking my train back late at night so he found me a group from Long Island staying in Queens and they took me home. We got lost both nights and the first night it took an hour and a half, and I could have taken the train home by then! But it was funny and bonded us! I really wanted to get out and walk but they wouldn’t let me because Pastor Michael had asked them. And the funniest part of all is that the way we finally got home is that I directed them. I had a feeling of where we were and where we needed to be and told her to drive this way and where to turn and I, the one from Texas, got us home! We all laughed at that! But I asked Pastor Michael if I could leave early on Saturday and go to Times Square and he seemed to realize I would be okay so I went with his blessing.

My first real treat was eating falafel Thursday night with tabouli from Jerusalem Pita, a hole in the wall near Lexington Ave on 45th in Manhattan that was really good and authentic. I have not had real falafel in years. Of course there were bagel breakfasts. I had an eggplant parmesan hoagie in the Bronx one day and two days I had Bronx pizza (which of course is famous for being some of the best ever). I also had an Italian ice from a mom and pop place in the Bronx. These were the nicest people I met outside of church and I know they were Christians. The ices were INCREDIBLE and I will never again eat that junk they sell at Brookshire’s that they CALL Italian Ice. That is what happened with me and cheesecake the first time I went to NY 13 years ago. I had the real thing and never could eat the fake stuff again! I also had cheesecake. In fact, Sunday afternoon I took the train back to 51st and 8th, where I stayed the first time I ever went to NY and found my way to Baby Watson’s cheesecake on 8th Avenue. It was still there and I got the smallest piece they had and ate it in two different sittings. I also stumbled upon a street fair and at a booth bought falafel balls individually. For dinner after I got home I ate falafel balls and half a piece of cheesecake. Today I ate bird food again. My NY friends all laughed at me because I would not eat anything not authentically cultural there. Some people ate at Subway and stuff. Not a chance!

Being in New York does two things to me—1)it makes me see the world in a different light. Life in Tyler is nice and comfortable but it is not representative of a lot, you know. 2) It also makes me appreciate Los Angeles. My goodness, I love to visit NY but I could not live there. The absolute lost state of most of the people you pass is so sad. It is hard to be complacent in all that, but it also helped me see why I am going to LA.

A lot of things helped me see clearer why I am going to LA. After a couple weeks of struggling through the hard parts of this decision, this trip served to show me even clearer why I am going. God even gave me a clear word, on a subway, no less, of part of what I am to there. It was neat!

Other things I did included my trip to Times Square after our closing meeting. I was planning to leave early but then I was needed during the prayer time. Actually it was a weird situation and some miscommunication happened and I got a major crash course in ministry that even though for a bit was hard, I knew was an important lesson even as it was happening. But I stayed around because I had to help during the prayer time, and then when Pastor Michael was done—I was with him and Brandi—I left. I went to Times Square. I asked a man at the church if that was stupid to go down there late in a Saturday night but he said that was probably safer than any place in NY. Sure enough. Each block must have had 6-8 NYPD officers on each side of the street. I felt safer there than anywhere. It was mass chaos though. I did not do much. I shopped a little, bought a Yankee shirt (-: and got dinner, but mostly I walked, and finally it was 1 .am. and I realized I still had a train ride to Queens and a walk five blocks from the train. I thought, boy if Pastor Michael knew that he would be sacred! I did not mean to stay that late! Usually I can’t, but it is such an awake place you forget. So I went back. I was thrilled when at 1:45 a.m. when my train stopped din Queens, probably 50 people got off. That amazes me. Where are all these people going? So I did not feel as scared. I also have a great NY walk and manner about me. It is very hard for me not to be polite an smile at people, but I can be as NY as the next person. I never look like a tourist when I am there, so it helps a lot. I then woke up early the next morning and put on a leotard and tights. (BLECH!) I went back to Manhattan for my dance class. I had some time before and noticed my train transfer was pretty far into lower Manhattan anyway, so I went to the World Trade Center area. That was pretty incredible. There as a quite feel about the place. No loud voices. Tight security still. The only activity other than tourists, some in tears (and this being Memorial Day weekend I guess it attracted more), was the street vendors selling cheap NY shirts and hats, but also pictures of Sept. 11 memorials and stuff. Still it as interesting to sense the differences in atmosphere down there. It really was like being in a different place. It was creepy but it was like it was the only peaceful part of New York I was in.

Then I went to Steps! Steps on Broadway is one of the best dance studios in the world. It is literally world-renowned and they teach everyone from aspiring dancers to world class touring ballerinas. Their faculty includes world class ballerinas and other dancers, but of course we all know what class I went for! So I went for an 11:30 beginner class. I am not an absolute beginner in the technical sense, but I figured I would rather be ahead than behind at this place. Beginner, MY FOOT!!!! I think I felt a bit better after class when lady in the class told me she takes advanced beginner classes from another teacher at Steps that are simpler than this. This was at an intermediate/advanced level for certain. So were most of the people in the class! Major yikes. One man in there I am sure is a professional—he seemed to be one the teacher knew also. A couple others you know are working dancers who are probably there to learn better ballet even though they have other training. This was not some easy class. But it was neat. I never felt so much like a dancer than having a professional dancer who has been in bunches of professional ballet and trained at the Joffrey ballet tell me to point my feet or tell me my tendus are “nice.” When a teacher at TJC says you have a nice tendu, you smile and feel good. When a professional ballet dancer in NYC tells you you have a nice tendu you want to stop class, call everyone you ever knew and gush a and then spend the rest of class doing tendus! But alas! The rest of class was spent getting harder. I knew every term she mentioned pretty much but some people had not even heard of the steps. She explained nothing—and why should she?—but just told us what to do. Then we did whole exercises on releve. Our combinations were like nothing I have ever done in any dance anywhere or even begin to learn. It was a solid hour and half. Solid. And people were dripping with sweat. You would never think it since every move was so slow, but it as real dancing and it was INCREDIBLE. I left with such a thrill. I did not know everything, BUT I was not so far gone that I was lost. That felt good in itself. Also, some of the feedback I got told me I have learned some technique well. But I will tell you in 1 ½ hours I learned a lot also. It was such an amazing experience. I will never be some professional dancer, nor would I want to live my life in that scene if I had the ability anyway, BUT not even some people who spend their lives in their toes have ever gotten to take classes at Steps. I am sometimes amazed by the very opportunities I have. I had wanted to SEE the ballet, but you know what, the companies will tour and I can see the very same people in LA. But you can only take classes at Steps if you are at Steps. And the price difference? HUGE. One class at Steps: $13.50. One relatively decent seat at a NY ballet company: $70. Sometimes doing is cheaper than seeing, and certainly more wonderful.

Oh, my leg… well, I praise God because while I could feel some pain, it did not hinder ANY of my dancing at Shachah. In fact, it did not act up at all until the last 10 minutes of my class at Steps. It was doing the last combination which included a series of tour jetes and a grand jete that made it hurt pretty bad. But that was the end I am realized God had been faithful for all that time. AFTER Steps yesterday it hurt BAD for a long time. I was waking through midtown Manhattan wall to wall people for the street fair, absolutely in pain so I was literally limping BUT I made it. I am still believing this will be fully healed, though. Today it feels much better, so I know it was the strain, but let’s see four days of dancing and walking on a torn tendon and it did not hurt til the very end. Um, yeah, I am thinking that is God!!!

Oh, another little blessing is that I found my pants to dance in next month in LA. I ordered a pair of white pants that claimed to not be see through. They arrived the day before I left and you could today see through them. So I packaged them to return and wondered what to try next. Then I was walking through the street fair outside Steps and saw a pair of long flowing white pants—sort of like eyelets at the bottom, and thought they could be good. They were $20 and I bought them. I just tried them on and they are perfect!

Anyway, that was a lot of the fun stuff, but the fact is that spiritually it was amazing, not so much because of what happened even in the conference, but what God was peaking to me. The trip served as a great conformation for my future. Aunty had a word that to this moment she does not know was partly for me. I tried to communicate that but that was when things went wild Saturday and I had to help them with the altar call… a story in itself. She even quoted a Scripture that was pivotal in what is happening in me now. I feel I also got some specific instructions from God on some practical things to do. He is doing a lot in me with dance ministry that I believe I will be using even though I don’t know exactly how yet. But I am sure going to do what I feel I am supposed to for now. I love these East Coast conferences because it also gives me connections there. I know people in New York City, Long Island, Pennsylvania—I believe these types of spiritual connections are very important—especially with what I see happening, so that is exciting too.

All I know is that even though I can't see all the details of my future, this weekend my spirit danced again at the events of the weekend and how God is using that in my life. It is scary, but I can't wait!

Ironically the last time I wrote in this Word file for my blog (my main one is on my desktop PC at home) I was in this same hotel. It was almost one month ago; I just signed on and saw the entry. It was the one where I commented how I start to forget where I am because every hotel looks the same. That is how I felt again a bit ago. I have been away from home since last Friday night, in and out but sleeping away. Now tonight I am in a hotel (the one Priceline always gives me for $20!) and tomorrow night I will be in a hotel through Sunday. Dallas, New York, next week LA. It is like I am some major traveler. In some ways I am, but I know it is about to slow.

Tuesday is the day—unless I hear otherwise from God, I will turn the letter in before I see the kids. But I have to tell my special kids first, then the rest. Hard. There is no other word. That is the same day as the board meeting in Clear Stream. Two whammies at Lee. His will be bigger than mine, but both will affect people. That is the part I hate.

But what I hated more was the times in the last two weeks when I thought maybe it was not meant to be and would not happen. I hated how lost I felt. I hated thinking that this was all a fantasy again and it was not time, that it might never be time. And even though the stream is clear and there is a place for me there, I don’t think that is it. Of all the options, only one makes my SPIRIT dance. The others make my heart dance for one reason or another, but only one makes my spirit dance more than my heart actually. People say follow your heart, but God says follow your spirit.

It has really not been a fun couple weeks. Hi, my name is Susan and I have too many insecurities. That was the theme! I have been mean and cranky, and I hate that. End-of-school stress is nothing compared to end-of-journey stress.

“But Susan, I don’t want you to…” I will always cherish the words of my dear friend. Being wanted is worth more than anything, but again the heart versus the spirit. With reality settled in it is not that the spirit in me dances daily, but it is more that the thought of it not happening makes it grieve.

In the morning I will board American Airlines and fly to New York City for my third visit there. New York makes me think of Darrell. I went on my first trip when I was 19 and we went with the youth group. When I went back in 1999—ten years later—I went to the same church to work and could not help but think of Darrell. I wanted to tell him I had come back on my own, but had been so far out of touch it seemed pointless. Now they are back in my life big time, but I am going as part of a different ministry. I am being set loose in New York. While it is a Shachah trip, I am traveling alone. They never let me do that at the church. Queens, to the Bronx, to Manhattan, alone. Which bus? Which Subway? Who has a clue? It is an adventure. I already know I need a Metro Card with unlimited weekly rides. Even for four days it will save me money to buy a weekly pass. If you research enough before you go, you can look less touristy when you arrive. Every time I go I blend into New York culture. Everyone thinks I am one of them. That helps. My kids laughed at the idea of my being in New York, their sweet, innocent, prude teacher. Ha! I did my New York accent and mannerisms for them and they changed their minds. You should be an actress, they said. I have been, kids, for over two months, I have been.

I think I will go to sleep soon. I have to get up early despite being in Dallas already. This will be my second time to fly to the East Coast in less than a year for a dance seminar. I ought to keep my money at home. I will be in a dancer’s haven.

Sometimes I am still amazed at this dance thing. With one leap off the floor over 5 years ago my whole life changed. Now my world is about dance—and that is simply symbolic for worship and my love for God. What if I had never danced? I would not be me. That is the truth, plain and simple, I would not be who I am now.

And my Pointe update for those allowed to read it. Some dance stuff I ordered came today—including the pants I ordered to dance in in June in CA that the catalog claimed were not see through—HA! Nice underwear, Tyrrell. They are on their way back right away! (Why is finding white dance pants near impossible?) But I also ordered those ouch pads all my students tell me I need for Pointe shoes (of course I do not ask my teachers because they will sternly lecture me, and I don’t want to hear that!). So they came and I put them on and got my Pointe shoes on, removing all the lamb’s wool. Oh, my goodness! They did not even hurt with those in them. I cannot believe what a difference they made. I could even couru in them with nothing supporting me! Wow! Then I got a bit overconfident and fell flat. And then I remember the immense PAIN I am in my other leg where I appear to have torn my other tendon. It does not hurt in one position, only in the springing up or walking motions, so while on Pointe, it did not hurt, til I landed and I relaxed I ought to be careful because my dance in CA is now one month away and it requires full stamina and strength. I am going to teach myself my dance on Pointe. Not for June, of course, but to do it again. I imagine I will need to order a videotape to teach me how until I get decent enough that someone will teach me. But I will learn. I am learning.

It took a lot of effort for me to leave those Pointe shoes at home, but I am forcing myself to travel lightly. All I have packed besides my Bible, tambourine and dance book are black pants, Shachah shirts, a sweatshirt, toiletries and dance shoes. There is very little else I have bothered to bring. I am learning to pack lightly—and Pointe shoes on a trip like this would be stupid! So I made myself leave them home. But they really did not hurt. I know they would after a long time, but the hard part of wearing them was balancing well, not pain. I was surprised. This is one area where a wide foot helps me because I have a boxy support.

So the changes are finally leading to an end. The comments that I have to know that I know that I know are accurate and yet I know me best. I can sit around and wait forever for a voice from the clouds, but for me there always comes a point where I must look at the gut feeling, analyze the spirit and know it is time to act even if my human doubts scare me. That is me because I am always afraid that whatever choices I make I am rejecting some great choice. What if Clear Stream is better and I go for the smoggy ocean? But I have to do what I feel is right. If all this has not happened for a God ordained reason then I don’t know what has.

Next week will be hard. That is not an awful prophecy; it is fact when you love. The hard will be sandwiched between two trips that are filled with God and with the purpose and vision, but hard is hard is hard. When did I learn to love this way?

Probably the first time I danced.

In my Texas hometown there is an interesting and sick dichotomy in the local paper. On the front of the sports section is the report that a local senior boy has signed to play football for a private Christian college nearby that is up and coming in the NCAA. In the front section of the same paper is the police report. The same boy had been arrested the same week, having his probation revoked. One of his crimes? INDECENCY WITH A CHILD! Complacency is scary. Is our society so far gone that we care more about a child being a football player than we do immorality? I was so shocked by the contrast—And sickened.

There’s a mouse in my house, so I am not there.

Alas! It has happened again. I had this happen one other time since living in Texas. It is definitely one of the grossest parts of living in an area with fields and foliage. Yesterday I wanted to relax in the worst way. Some days I come home with energy; but yesterday I was a zombie. I started my day in Quitman at 6:30 a.m. and was on my way to Dallas at 8:15. Dance class was WONDERFUL, but dance classes are natural intense and disciplined. You must focus your mind as well as your body. I went to eat lunch and came back for assessments-which I must liken to taking the GRE with a human judge! They were, of course wonderfully nice and kind, but under that pressure, major YIKES!. It was NOT FUN! I got through it, but I thought, man I don’t think I want to do this again! So talk about major intensity and focus. Despite it being a very nice day with lots of encouragement—especially in dance class where things get easier all the time—it was still emotionally and physically exhausting. However, I would have been okay had I had my usual 1 hour and 45 minute drive straight home. But that was not to be. In fact, in one of the most unusual displays of traffic (anyone who knows me well know how I abhor traffic anyway), I went to enter I-20 and found it backed up for miles. I was shocked because that is rather unusual, especially on sunny ordinary days. So I took the frontage road to get over to I-35-but going south to flip north was also backed up. So I reversed and cut through an underpass and got on I-35 north to o to I-30. There I encountered more traffic a couple miles in, and that extended to downtown almost. So 45 minutes after leaving Shachah I was in downtown Dallas. AHHHHHHH. By then my brain is the ultimate in fried because in bumper to bumper traffic for that long you have to constantly stay aware because of the stop and go movements and people cutting in and out. I finally got through downtown, and was approaching empty in my gas tank, so I exited at 64 in Canton because I wanted a cold drink too. I did not even end up getting gas there, but I decided a nice country drive the rest of the way home was fine. I did not want to see mounds of cars anymore. So I got on 64 south and within minutes I saw signs for road work. It was now 5:30 on Saturday afternoon, but they were working on the road. Loose gravel was everywhere so I had to slow down big time to avoid the car in front of me. Then in another minute or so, we were stopped. The line of traffic grew longer by the minute as we sat maybe 10 minutes waiting for one way traffic to come through. I probably do not need to explain my physical and mental state at that point. I had zero energy left and I wanted to be home like nothing I can explain.

Once that traffic finally cleared, I got home in normal time; however. I arrived home at about 10 after 6 and I had left Shachah at 3:24. I flew in my apartment and took a long hot bath. After a day of leotards and dancing I felt gross! Then I sat down to relax, write email. I had just had a snack and was sitting at my computer, completely enjoying myself when I saw a mouse run from behind my dresser towards my bathroom.

I am sure the scream could be heard all the way to Dallas.

Of course there went my peaceful evening! After screaming I cried. I think I cried from exhaustion and wanting to relax. The idea of little Mousey running across me as I sat was too much. Yes, I have a mouse phobia. Rodents actually. That is one thing I cannot stand. Snakes, spiders, I don’t lose it. Crickets get to me, too (fast and jumpy), but mice are the ultimate (well, except the rat I saw in Jamaica!). I called Robin—you know when your brain is on overflow… That helped and then I called my landlord and left quite the message. I am afraid my very human, very unspiritual side came out because I was fed up. I had an issue with red ants a few months ago and they would not exterminate—though she let me deduct a chemical cost from my rent. And many nights after I go to bed the dog next door barks, jerking me back up, so the mouse kind of took me over the edge. No word from her yet.

Meanwhile I leave for New York Thursday morning. And then I remembered something. I remembered my last mouse encounter. It was a day I had taken off work in 1999. I needed the day to relax and rest because I was overtired and stuff and, get this, the next week I was leaving for New York. So this seems to be pattern: Go on a ministry trip to New York and see a mouse invade your home.

Some people will think it is stupid that I won’t stay in a house with a mouse there; others will understand. You are never sure how people will react to this. I called Beverly (who has a spare room) and she fully understood because her mom was terrified of mice. Anyway, the gist is that Lisa and Jonathan tried to help me set traps but we could not get the cheap things activated. I left some sticky ones in the house and left. I came to Robin’s for Saturday and Sunday and will go to Beverly’s Monday and Tuesday. Wednesday I will leave for Dallas to avoid an early drive to the airport Thursday—I would have to leave at 5:30 or so. I am believing that by the time I return home it will be settled. That is a week from today, Sunday. The I am only home til Friday. And the creepy thing is that I have been sharing space with this guy and not knowing it—NOW I understand the things I saw that were Mouse Evidence.

Anyway, I will admit it has been wonderful to sleep last night and be out in the country again. I slept until 10:15 this morning—which I usually physically cannot even DO, but that is how tired I was. It was wonderful. It is a GORGEOUS day here and totally silent and beautiful. And the great benefit is that I have been wanting video footage of Quitman to go in my Texas video and now I am here on a beautiful day to get it. And adding to that is I have felt a draw to my old prayer spot for the last week or so But since it gets dark so late, it would involve me getting home very late after praying. Now I can go tonight. So it has been a blessing in disguise for today.

My state of mind regarding the other issue is much more settled and sure. I think the definitive changes will be this week or next. Unfortunately that puts us at the end of school—and I do need to settle the rest of my life first (Mouse Land), but I am feeling good, certain, visionary even as a new idea has come to me that may be God. It may just be a good idea; I am not yet sure, but for now I am thinking of it and figure it will open up if it is God. It always does. My other big hold up has been financial, but I know I have to learn to trust there, too.

So I guess all is coming together. This week will fly, and in 12 days I will be back in Los Angeles.

Mouse-less. Definitely mouse-less.

This is the date I postdated my letter to.

It seems I pre dated it and didn’t realize it.

Darrell emailed today and said he is praying for an audible voice from God—or close to it. So am I.

I think we all had a bad day today—all my kids and I. My favorite students (we lie when we say we don’t have any) and I seemed to have conflicts galore—bad stuff in some cases. And it is fighting with people you love, so it feels cruddy.

The sad thing, though, is that it almost helps. You don’t want conflict but at least it doesn’t leave everything rose colored. And then in the midst of that—literally while I was on the phone with a student, an email came in that was the other side of all this. Timing is everything.

This week has been truly awful as I crashed into the depths of seeking and hid in my own world. Sometimes you have to. This is the end of the year. The end of the season. A week from now I will be in New York City. Two weeks from tomorrow back in Los Angeles. Everything has come down to the wire.

I am glad I did double pirouettes this morning. I needed them.

This morning I did a double pirouette.

I have never been able to do one.

For a couple months I have had a recurring dream I was doing double pirouettes and dancing on Pointe.

And then suddenly the double pirouettes came.

Suddenly.

I think this is significant.

I remembered again today why it matters. The church must not slumber. No program will sustain us as the trials come. Trouble came in threes this morning and the name of God was dragged through the mud by those who claim to love Him. When the enemy comes in like a flood, the Lord will raise up a standard before him, but He needs people to take their authority and lift the standard—literally translated BANNER—in the face of the destruction and darkness. We cannot sleep or we will die.

Every pique brought me joy this morning. I loved dance class. I always love dancing but sometimes classes get hard; ballet can be very redundant. But this morning I loved it all. This was the first time we had done grand jetes in class since my injury a few months ago. Of course since then I learned them somewhat, and then God gave them to me for my dance, and so I do them virtually every morning. My dance has eight of them. That will teach you!

So today Anna demonstrated but she did her preparation differently than I have been, even though I thought I had been doing it like I learned there. So I asked her and Melissa. They had me show them what I was doing. Get this: What I was doing WAS correct, but it was “the more difficult way.” First I cannot even DO the blasted things and then when I learn, I learn the difficult method—so I actually had to re-learn the simple method this morning! But of course I loved that I did something more complicated! And then when I grasped the simpler way a bit and went into the air I heard Melissa: “VERY nice, Aunty Susan,” she called. I beamed. I had felt kind of bad when she did not also send me to the side barre to practice pirouettes, but they don’t all know some of what I have learned on my own and that I can handle stuff like that. I think they see me as I was more than as I am becoming, but that is normal. They would be shocked to know I try same things on Pointe that they are learning. Two people are starting in class, our advanced people, and they are struggling too. I do that at home. In secret. For now.

I did not stay for the second class. This morning was already a sacrifice to go. I just did not want to. I think when I feel in limbo I want to stop everything. I am glad it turned out so well.

I was in another world though. I left instrumental worship music on for my whole drive and prayed in the Spirit pretty much off and on all the way there. I think I still know. On the way home I listened to the last teaching CD in a 5-part series by John Bevere I bought in November ( I make myself stretch these out). It was very good. And by the end I was lost in the ideas—“I want that, God. I want that” I said softly but with great conviction. I do still think I know.

I HATE THIS WEATHER. No joke, I don’t think I can stand another summer of intense heat. My goodness it is barely May and it is hot. We never had spring—we had a segue from winter to summer that lasted a couple weeks, but that is a poor excuse for the most glorious season there is. The weather is depressing and miserable and I know I am not a Texan. I never adjusted.

I love deeper than I thought. As I shopped and went to the recital, I realized my heart is a goner. And I am torn so bad. There is no easy answer. I had no idea. I genuinely did not have an idea I felt this deeply until it hit. Yet Dr. Hayes is right in his reasoning. You cannot base decisions on people. I JUST HAD AN EPIPHANY!!!!!!!!!! Whoa! This is why I write. I just got something I did not get. Or I started to get it. I think. More later. This might be the beginning of my answer.

Okay, anyway, so I went to Barnes and Noble, crying all the way, and bought the latest issue of Dance magazine and a dictionary of classical ballet. Then I sat in a big poofy chair and absorbed impressionistic paintings (of dancers mostly) and read about how to plant a lily-of-the-valley. I went to Brookshire’s and doted on Britney’s brilliant cashiering and went to Caldwell and saw Kelli dance, as well as Lindsay. Then I came home and ate but I have to go back out even though it is 9:30. They have a favorite gift on sale at Brookshire’s for half price and I know it will be gone since this is Mother’s Day weekend so I have to go. I have never ever seen it this cheap. But I don’t mind a drive—especially with the latest insight that sparked a possible answer.

You cannot base decisions on people.

I decided to try to call Terry and ask her to clarify some of my confusion. She wasn’t home. No surprise there, but it sure would have helped. I think I am going to Kelli’s recital tonight. And Brookshire’s—Britney is working. Sometimes I am too like a mother—going to see kids at dance recitals and work. But Kelli’s parents are out of town and can’t come and I know how it feels to have no one watch you dance. And I need groceries anyway and was too tired to go earlier, so why not wait? She even highlighted the portabella mushroom code for me. (One of my favorite meals these days is a grilled portabella mushroom sandwich with asparagus with baked, dried onions, or with cherry tomatoes.)

I sent my friend an email... That change will happen soon. Change change change. How about me? This morning I burst into tears in the bathtub. I mean it just got to me—thinking of someone who believes in me—and that the changes might affect that too. And that one thought had me gushing. I actually left for work in tears and arrived in new tears. Tears were my clothing this morning. At work I got lost in research papers and broadcasting, but underneath it all was the truth.

From today’s journal:

I believe in the Cause. Even in my deflation it is all inside me. But I can’t do it alone. If this is all about me and God, and others don’t have a role, then I am back to isolated Christianity… I think I scare people. If I were given a green light—if I could live in the book of Acts, I could be totally free and the power of God would flood everything. But I think because I am single and free, people get scared. They don’t want to give me that green light because I have no barriers on me—and that frightens people. I have seen it frighten principals and pastors and friends. I’m the only butterfly I know who still lives in a cocoon.

Deflated.

But is it a hole or just some air gone.

Can it be blown up again?

Maybe the problem is that I do know but fantasy went away.

Wow! I didn’t even really how true that was when I wrote it. Some people don’t understand why I write so much, but this is typical. Through my writing I learn the truth. I just found it. In two days the fantasy went away, stripped me of all that I grasped and left me standing alone in the valley, wondering. That is it. No more fantasy. Between my precious students and Terry’s intense wisdom, it shattered.

The problem is, the truth has not.

I am experiencing a crash much different from any other. What I have believed for two months is not gone. Many times in my life I have been on a mountaintop and when I fell off, I found that I could not maintain the things I held on to in the high. I don’t mean I was not real or that I became some sordid immoral wretch, but just that those things I believe in the midst of a high don’t always seem real in the valley. But alas! This is different. I changed the music and threw myself into work and didn’t dwell on it and pulled away from it. But it is not gone anyway. It is inside me.

What I believed only a week ago on the mountain I still believe in the valley. What is the difference? Now it hurts. Now it aches. Now my gut surges with the knowledge of the agony of this ordeal. Reality is ugly.

What is going on might be the most wonderful thing ever. Or not.

But this morning I got up at the usual time and did not know what to do when I prayed—so I talked it through and was completely honest about the things that have hit—the words spoken that scared me, the reality of feelings. Of course I stayed at work all day long, then even went to see Luella after work and by the time I got home it was about 6:45 and I had been gone over 11 hours. I like that. My desk is clean. This is a sure sign that something is going on.

So that is what happened—reality. Is what happened real? Yes. But it is easy? No! That was the mountaintop. But in the valley all the things I believed are still here (well, except that I think am still too much and too passionate for most people). The only problem is that two major issues lay alongside it. And now I am beginning to understand things I never did about people.

And now I am beginning to see that great sacrifice is inherent.

To go out with joy you must also go out with sorrow.

Still later…so bittersweet. I told Beverly, whom I saw only briefly, and she pounced on it. I have already heard she said. She prayed for me right there. That affected me because when Beverly operates in the mode she did tonight she is operating in the Spirit. That really helped too. Beverly told me to go back and read all I wrote and see—that I know.

Luella also prayed with me. In between, Belinda came in when Bev and I were talking and I stepped back so she could talk to Beverly. She said she had come to see me. I think even Beverly looked surprised. I certainly did. They needed my editing help. First the ditch, then editing. What timing. I almost cried.

My mind remains a flood of memories and mixed emotions. Of course that brings up my defenses. Fine, I say, just fine. I don’t need any of this. The end. And I shut down.

Sure signs: I switched the CDs in my car. Now instead of “Believe” and “Prepare the Way” we have Avalon’s old CD. Then I wondered what I was going to do at 5 a.m. because I don’t want to talk about this anymore. So maybe I will dance with God for two hours, but I will still get up. I might learn Pointe work better through this crisis! I want to pull back from everything. My heart is threatened and that is how I react. Oh, how personal I am being in here, but I don’t care. These are not the depths of my heart. This is human emotion many never express. I could care less. Terry told me that she really appreciated how transparent I am. And if I write it then, yes, I certainly am. I can expose anything in print. But in real life, watch out. Walls are my safety right now.

I said something to God that was rather unlike me. He invites us in the book of Malachi to test him and prove Him in tithing, so I my attitude was not meant to be at all rebellious but more a desperate need. On my way to church tonight I said “God, I don’t mean to sound crappy, but I think this is what you have said. Prove it.” That is it. I need it so deep within me that a world class debater filled with the Holy Spirit could not shake me. No more emotion, no more written confirmations, no more endless discussions. No more. I am done. Terry is right, it must be me and God. Just as the original deliverance that started all this was on that farm road, just as the dancing thing started alone in my living room and extended to church months later when I sat alone, just as even last November the deliverance happened in a car not too far from the old farm road. When it matters it is always me and God. Us alone. And that is it again. So no more. I am on hiatus.

If only I could stop the tears.

Later… I am on a break from thinking. Tonight I hung out at work til 5:45 even though the faculty meeting was over at 4:15. I went to my room a bit, then back to the office where I hung out with Detective (Mr. Bambico) and then Dr. Hayes for a long time, just chatting. We left in laughter and ran into other staff members. He went to meet his wife for dinner and I got a Diet Coke and came home. Tomorrow they are serving us a teacher appreciation lunch and I will hang out all afternoon until my after school class. And then I realized something. I never hang out at work anymore. This is the first time I have wanted to hang out after hours or in an office in my conference time since before spring break and California Trip #1. You know what that means. ESCAPE. I truly am lost suddenly. I agree with every word Terry says and it scares me. I don’t want to look, don’t want to think, don’t want to address any of it. I want to take up residence in a cave—or better yet my classroom. I enjoy my students so much. They are the light of my life here in Tyler. They really are. I will dote there, and live there until I know. I mean, yeah, I DO know, but there is a piece missing STILL and it is officially getting on my last nerve. Now that the nerve is under pressure, I must succumb and do things like hang out in principal’s offices laughing about crazy things.

Sometimes the stream down the road starts to look really good.

My brain is flooded.

I just had a very long and deep conversation with Terry. She is an amazing person I respect so much, but now my brain is full. It simply cannot process any more information.

I want to go to the ocean. I need to go to the ocean. I need the water, and I need to dance on the sand.

I don’t know if I can do this. I have it so good. It hit me tonight, and I broke down in tears and called Robin. My feelings and reactions surprise me. I don’t like this because it is genuinely agonizing. I think it got bad at the award’s ceremony. I saw Halley sitting with her step dad, while her mom was in the back with MaryMack, who was fussing in mom’s arms. I was flooded with love for my sweet student, her loving family and her precious baby sister. I looked behind me and saw a staff member who, at he beginning of the year, I thought I didn’t like and who couldn’t stand me, and realized how God had turned all that this year, and I truly love her too. She has become one of my greatest allies. This year my professional evaluation was amazing, reaching “exceeds expectations” 21 times and hitting the top of several domains. Today my principal told me I uphold good standards and godly characteristics in the classroom—right after he complimented me on how I had conducted the after school class. I caught his eye during the ceremony—oh-so-boring unless it is your name called. We smirked at each other about some inside joke no one else would understand. Minutes later we had a three-person smirk going on between us and the faculty member I thought I did not like. Yeah, I have it good. Really. Never in my life have I been at such a happy and stable place. I am truly blessed.

Cut to early this morning when I prayed. As Terry says, I was “eating carpet” because of the power of the Holy Spirit on me in that room. I was on my face amazed by the things going on inside me as I prayed—and mostly I was praying for the church. This happens often when I pray for them.

Suddenly tonight it is not an exciting game. It is serious, and it is agonizing. My heart tonight feels torn in two. And although one side may be bigger, the tear still hurts like crazy.

Shhh!!! Don’t tell the dance experts but I am traipsing around the house in Pointe shoes again. Robin was in shock. The last time I put them on, I could hardly stand. She was amazed—I told her I didn’t know what happened but suddenly yesterday I put them on and stood up and could walk across the room. I showed her my tacky pirouette and she was shocked. I actually have sore toes. It is wonderful. I love to do things the weird way!

Meanwhile Robin proved rather helpful tonight in my future plans, and I am blessed. We had a great time. She even helped me find music for my pattern for my tambourine assessment next weekend. NOW I think I can do it! That was the hard part.

I videotaped her and she gushed like crazy. It is too soon for me to be that sappy. I don’t believe it yet. But I am ready to.

30 minus 5 means I leave in 25 days. The funniest thing happened to me this morning as I counted down days. I counted how many to New York first (17) and then to LA (25) and was half praying as I did also. When I said “twenty five days til I am in Los Angeles,” I got that feeling I tend now to describe as my spirit dancing. In fact, this morning I was tired (of course) and a bit down. There are days praying is a joy, days it is a discipline and days it is wrestling. Today was a combination of the latter two, but in that one moment when I said that, something happened inside me, and I just knew something was going to happen.

Weird news today. Weird feelings. Not shocking. A little sad. Maybe another confirmation, but not the kind I wanted. I promptly emailed my friend who is also my boss. I need advice, and I need his expert opinions as well as his kind words.

No time to update everything, and besides, it seems kind of slow. Robin is coming over. We will go to dinner, talk, pray, the usual. Only these days the usual has become special.

I love to eat asparagus.

If you are a Shachah person or Shelly, you must scroll down and skip this part. If you don’t you forfeit your right to lecture me!

Okay for the rest of you, I had a thrilling time before church this morning when I both walked across the room and did a pirouette on POINTE! Suddenly it was not as bad as the few times I have tried. I tried my whole dance of course—leave it to me to think I’ll just skip all the ordinary exercises all the dancers do! I don’t really think that, of course, but it is still fun to try. I was amazed at how far I went without wanting to rip my toes off, so I guess I am more at a place to begin learning the old boring stuff the new way. I am not technically supposed to do this, of course. I was not even fitted for my Pointe shoes, but I was determined. Story of my life.

Meanwhile I have garnered a name for myself at church. I am sorry to say that everyone now knows me because I fell in a ditch in my car. Apparently I was the Saturday morning talk at the ladies meeting. It is funny and I certainly enjoy the attention, but I also recognize the irony. As I told Martha, this is my legacy. What a name.

Sunday afternoon at home. I will dance and play tambourine and write and talk. My official tambourine assessment is in 13 days so now I must really get down those parts that plague me. Fact is, as soon as I get determined, I get it. That is the nature God has placed in me. And now it matters.

I want to be a newlywed forever. Some people who have been married a long time are old and dry, others are still in love and more fresh. But people who have been married a long time are comfortable—whether in a good way or a bad way. Comfort comes with time, but there is something to be said for that newlywed mentality of learning to please another person and testing it all out and everything. And I decided that spiritually I want to stay that way—I never want to be comfortable with Jesus in a sense that I think I know what He is going to do next or something. I always want to keep this excitement like I am just married and so in love I can hardly stand it. In marriage growing comfortable can be VERY good, if it is the right kind, but spiritually I am not sure it is. It seems that comfortable turns into complacent—and that is when people start fighting about hymnals and prayer meetings become discussions of prayer requests, and passion dies.

When you know you are called, you see everything differently.

I wrote the first draft of my letter tonight.

That is a scary thing.

I postdated it.

I think I danced through April on a
Cloud of glory that stayed stationary as my
Feet moved over mountains.
The brightness covered the ordinary,
Letting the sun radiate the shadows
And my feet moved in rhythm with You,
Stepping in patterns I could never maneuver,
Finding new ways to live an old life, and
Knowing finally that it is my time in the sun.

SMT 5/2/03

I no longer question these things.

I had my favorite devotional book (Come Away My Beloved) out this morning, of course, to read in my prayer time. I have a marker in it and shut it every day on that mark. Often if I come home for lunch I open it and read another section. I picked it up a bit ago—I started reading, and into realized this was NOT my next one. Somehow the mark had switched but I was amazed by what I was reading. Think back to my dream from Friday night about the steep and narrow mountain road that would take me into beauty. The heading on this one was “The Road is Steep.” I read it through once I realized I was probably supposed to be reading it, as it was many pages away from my reading. It is about being a chosen vessel of the Lord and being called to purity and holiness for His purposes. Here is the last paragraph:

Holiness is arrived at by no low road. The road to holiness is narrow and steep and exceedingly lonely. There is no other road. “It is the way the Master went, Shall not His servants tread it still?

The road is steep and narrow?

Didn’t I just write that a few days ago?

Today when I got home I received my notice from INS of when my citizenship appointment was. Beverly had told me not to worry, that God knew when I was going to be in the state, didn’t I trust Him to make my appointment when I could be there so I did not have to reschedule for months later? And there it was—the suspense was there the second I saw “Department of Homeland Security” on the envelope. July 14. Perfect. Right smack in the middle of my travel. Perfect. That is my God. I called Robin to leave her another message, and I bust out laughing when I started to tell her. I had just left a message and told her I actually did not have any confirmations or stories to tell her today, but it was only 1:30. So then I called back and said I had to tell her what happened. And then I laughed. I realized it must not surprise her anymore to come home to messages from me about the latest thing God has done. The confirmations are almost daily. I hung up and fell asleep for a few minutes lost in worship.

The road is steep and narrow, but there is no other way there.