This is kind of a scary day. Probably not for you. And really, it hasn’t been a scary day for me either. Until this point–at 4:30pm in a small town close to the surface of the sun (that’s what I’ve taken to calling this place)–when I sat down on the loveseat in a long-term hotel suite to write this post.
The loveseat’s upholstery is covered in all kinds of Southwestern designs…eagles and lizards and the kind of stuff that makes you think of cave murals, Mayan art and adobe dwellings…all in muted, ugly hotel colors: mauve, tan, a different tan, dirty green and dusty blue. Classic tapestry colors. It’s not hideous. But I miss my couch and my pretty house and the general Nordic theme of Practically Canada.
Panda is here too. And because our current dwelling is comprised of limited space, I never forget her presence. Not because she’s overly snuggly and showering me with attention. No, I’m afraid she saves her cutest acts and best snuggles for Derek. After all we’ve been through, I’m old news….the person she goes to when she’s desperate {like in the middle of the day and Derek is working}. But definitely not first choice. No, no, no…I always know she’s here because no matter how much I clean–or how often a maid comes in–the air always smells a little bit like cat litter. Just a little.
Now I could open a window–if I were anywhere else. But on the surface of the sun, that’s just not possible. Because of the Skin Melt Factor–or SMF, for short.
Oh! That’s right. I got into this whole, “I’m scared,” thing and never bothered to mention exactly what’s happening. Isn’t it annoying when people start talking at you and you have no clue what they are going on about? Well–stop the smiling and nodding because I’m about to fill you in. {And waiting this long was an artistic choice. In high school they taught me to draw a reader in with an air of mystery and a good hook.} So, for those of you who haven’t hit the “back” button to return to browsing your Facebook feed, here goes.
In brief, today is scary for me because I’m doing something I haven’t done in a long, long time. Writing. I remember the day I stopped. I’d written a devotional on prayer. Prayer has consistently changed my life and worked miracles in my day to day. I love praying regularly with my church family–openly, honestly, with structure and purpose. I was learning about prayer by being surrounded with people who were more mature in their spiritual walks. I was becoming more passionate about prayer and I was seeing how the Body of Christ was supposed to work together. In turn, this was all fueling my private prayer life and walk with the Lord.
That evening I got a comment on Facebook that rocked me. It was negative and hurtful. I was walking a hard road anyway, and all of a sudden I was incredibly gun shy. I didn’t want the things I wrote to cause controversy, or something I loved doing to cause me fear and anxiety about how people perceive me or the strength of my faith. I was in a fierce battle with insecurity and up against raging spiritual warfare. When I sat down to write I was griped with fear. What if instead of glorifying the Lord, I was turning people away from faith? Who am I to be writing and teaching on Biblical truth? Who reads this stuff anyway? No one really wants to hear your lame stories. That was well over a year ago.
I might have written a few posts after that, but pretty much I stuck to showing only photo previews and businessy stuff. I’m not bummed that it happened, because it’s been nice to literally go days without looking at a computer or checking Facebook or getting a comment and wondering if with was nice or mean.
But here I sit on the surface of the sun–homeless except for this room–writing again. And I actually plan to continue. I’ve spent more than a year weighing this out. And I’ve come to the conclusion that more good and happy things have come from writing than, painful things. I don’t like to write about controversial things–I like to write about quirky things that help people learn and encourage folks to see the humor and beauty in the places they find themselves. I like to do this, I’ve prayed about it, so…here we go.
We are in New Mexico. The Minot episode{s} in my life have all but ended, expect for a guest starring role every now and then. My house has sold and someone new is calling it home. The movers kidnapped all my stuff and hauled it to a storage center in the desert. And I’m here. In a different dessert learning that just because heat is “dry” doesn’t mean it’s not miserable. According to the heat index, the dryness of the air means it actually feels less hot that the actual temperature. So when it’s 104˚F, it really only feels like 100˚. That’s why I developed my own index: The Skin Melt Factor. It’s the amount of heat radiated off of and reflected back from every available surface {rocks, asphalt, cement, bricks, wood…there is no grass here to soak it up} and the degree to which it makes my skin feel like it’s melting off of the bone. The SMF is very high here. It’s about a 10 at 7am, skyrockets to an alarming 37 by 2pm, and drops to a manageable 5 by 8:30pm.
Anyway, Derek’s been here since March. I just arrived at the beginning of the month. I stayed back in Minot to sell the house, wait for closing, enjoy one last Practically Canadian Summer. He’s here training until September. So despite the SMF, I’m very happy to be here. All kidding and sarcastic comments aside, I’m so glad to be here. I’m excited to be exploring the Southwest. I’m happy to be finding some local gems. I’m happy to have time to write and pray and workout and…most importantly dunk around in the pool. Mostly, it’s really nice to be back to adventuring with Derek and Panda.
I’ll see you tomorrow.
Amy
