adulthood, face-first

currently listening to: the pride and prejudice soundtrack, compliments of allison o'leary
currently craving: chocolate gelato
currently wearing: same clothes, day 3

(i stole that little concept from liz powell. i've wanted to do it for a while, but it felt lame. now i suppose i don't care. liz, if you ever read this, remember that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.)

anyway, how about we address the clothes part, eh? well i'm not sure why but I haven't left my house in a while, which means i've had no motivation to change. also, no clean clothes or towels with which to shower. I feel way gross, but i'm starting to move past disgusting into accomplished.

i'm moving out tomorrow. going to a place where i pay the rent. tonight is the last night i will sleep under my parents' roof because i have to. whoa.

it is a crazy feeling. by the way, i wanted to title this entry, "adulthood: balls first" but i figured some people might be offended into not reading it. if you've made it this far, you might as well keep reading (later in the post, i kill a bear!).

so i'm packing up my room and i keep getting distracted by yearbooks, pictures and journals that i forgot existed. it is strange to be able to look into the past so comprehensively. there are at least a hundred or so images of my childhood buried throughout this room. how many generations can honestly say they have such a complete record of their youths?

i'm reading about how i grew up, especially how my faith evolved (mostly because my faith was all i ever cared to write about for most of my life). i read about how God came into various dark times and lifted me out of them. i read about how girls broke my heart and how that turned into a renewed spirituality. i read about sermons that changed my life, and i can see the changes happen in the entries.

but what i like seeing most are the people. the dozens upon dozens of people that have come into my life and made some kind of impact. people like jeff yarnell and lee jost and kenny carter and john birkhead. my old small groups, my teachers, my fellow missionaries. i wonder how many of those people realize that they have been immortalized in my photos, my journals, my memories. and then i wonder how many journals i made it to.

and after i'm finished with a particular journal or stack of pictures, i'm brought back to realizing that this chapter of my life is over. in 18 days i'm going to be a married man. if i'm honest, the "man" part of that is the most frightening.

well, there's some food for thought, anyway. i need to finish packing. next time: the story of how i killed the bear.


Brian R. Gehrlein said...

If you killed it with a rusty spoon you win man of the century award.

Anonymous said...

Hey you:

Write again someday, eh?

Miss you.