I want to punch the asphalt.

I should be studying Greek verbs.
I should be studying School Age Growth and Development.
I should be practicing for a solo audition.
I should be reading Confessions.
I should be getting ready for bed.

But I don't want to do any of those things.

I want to cry.

I wrote this poem today for Literature and Confession.

Two Hours

I want to hit the road.

Literally,

I want to punch the asphalt.

That stretch between

Home

And here.

It makes me angry.

And deserves a beating,

Because it keeps me

From all that I love.

But in the figurative sense,

Too.

Because it has been

Too long.

And I want to

Drive.

I have never been more homesick than I have been this year.

I had a bit of a breakdown on Thursday because all I wanted to do was get in my car and go home.

And if we weren't a week away from Fall Break, and if my aunt, uncle, and cousin weren't visiting that weekend, I would have. I would have packed a bag and cranked the tunes and broken my caffeine-free streak (still going) and driven the two hours home on that horribly boring stretch of road.

But I'm still here. And I had a great time with my family on Saturday. And chatted with my mom on Sunday night.

And in just over a week I will be watching TV with my parents, drinking coffee from the mug with cherries, one that I got from my Grandma a few years ago.

I will be preparing for a day of homework at Starbucks.

But homesickness isn't the only reason I want to cry.

There is cancer to be fought by loved ones and strangers,

There is a little girl to be brought home from Ethiopia,

There are boys I love who seem to be loved by girls far more winsome than I,

There are assignments to finish and solos to audition for and tests to study for and interviews to have and time cards to remember to fill out, and it all seems like it's piling up and I don't know when I'm going to get it all done and I just want to scream.

And then He reminds me that He knows.

And that He sees the big picture,

And that He has me here for a bigger purpose than unrequited love and auditioning for solos (I think I just talked myself out of auditioning. Every time. Because getting the solo means going on choir tour which means less time with my parents before leaving for the Czech, assuming I get the internship, which I honestly feel is more likely than getting the solo. Yikes. How's that for using my God-given gift of reason, with His guidance, to make decisions that make sense for both my personal life and for the Kingdom? I love it when this happens.)

And that He's going to let me go through the tough stuff because it's how He draws me to His heart.

Tears aren't falling, and continuing to write would probably help them along, but I have to go study.

Worship with your mind.

And then go to bed.

I leave you with "Let It Be Me," by Ray LaMontagne.

Much love.