I wish I could tell you that she was.

Obviously that (dramatic) girl is yours truly.

I’m not saying I’m completely unhappy. After all, I’ve got a place to live, a job, outstanding parents, red hair, food to eat.

You know, all the important stuff.

The problem is that I’m currently struggling with letting go of something. If you must know, and I feel like you must since this is a personal blog, I’m struggling with letting go of a relationship. Granted, this isn’t a fresh break. It still hurts like a fresh one though.

Its like when you pretend something isn’t an issue until it starts to snowball into a greater deal than when it started. The same goes with matters of the heart.  The longer you leave it untreated, the less likely it is you will make a full recovery.

My heart needs some pretty strong medicine at this point.

God is so good. He doesn’t punish me for being the biggest jerk in the world while this healing process takes place. He continues to lead me down a wonderful path. My sweet parents love me through my more exorcist-worthy moments, which is more than I think I could do. My friends listen to me when I ramble on about what I know vs what I am actually doing about it.

At this moment, I am ready to move forward. Its time to take another leap of faith in life.

I’ve always landed on my feet so far.

Not in a way that requires me to be completely self-centered.

I just think about how each moment has been perfectly timed. Without fail the events of my past have led me to the most precious and perfect present.

Yes, I like alliteration.

In the past I have longed for many things. Most specifically, to work for an international non-profit and to live in a big city like New York or Chicago. In fact, high school Hayley would be seriously disappointed and confused to find present Hayley living in Nashville.

In my short 24 years I have done more than high school Hayley could have dreamed. I don’t have to list the things because I do that all too often. That’s when it becomes self-centered. I will say, though, that I am exceptionally grateful. God has blessed me with a path that has been filled with adventure, love and beautiful people.

Going forward into this new year I want to stop more often and be in the moment. While its good to look ahead, its not always good to be constantly looking through the periscope. If the past has taught me anything, its that no matter what happens its exactly what I need. Even if I can’t piece together why that is at the time.

God hears us all when we speak to Him. So often we confuse our present disappointment with Him not hearing. I’m just one person with one opinion, but I can safely say that He is always answering our prayers. But with much more wisdom and much better timing than our hearts and brains can comprehend.

My life is more than what I want it to be. Thank goodness for that. As my wants are rarely what I need.

I’m assuming that Mr. Manny used to be a vagabond, as most cats are. While I’m sure that he loves being fed on a regular basis (judging by his growing obesity) and having a comfortable place to sleep, you can tell that he desperately wants to be outside. Despite there being limited to comfort to be found there.

I think no matter which angle you’re looking, whether from the outside or the inside, you will always want the opposite of where you’re at. I have this is common with Mr. Manny. I think we all do, if we are honest with ourselves.

I always go back to the idea of being comfortable. The whole thing intrigues me and, at times, completely plagues me. Some days I want to “give up” and settle down. I want to make where I’m at into Home. I want to quit wandering and force myself into staying.

However, this is not how I was designed. At least not yet.

I feel a lot like Mr. Manny. I want to go outside so bad, but I also want a hand to feed me when I need it. I want to explore the streets, but I want to know I can lay down at night and not worry.

Its a one foot in one foot out situation. Or one paw in one paw out, depending.

For the time being, I’m doing my best to listen to God and take the path He has for me.

Here’s to 2012 and where it leads.

Part of me is so bitter about its presence because I’m so in love with Fall. The other part of me appreciates finding cozy spots in coffee shops surrounded by mittens and scarves and chatter.

Or teeth chattering, depending on the temperature.

Today I decided to fall in love with December. I found myself walking several blocks to church, hands tucked in pockets, headphones in, watching people come and go into houses and churches lining the streets. I loved getting to the building, barely able to feel my fingers, and sitting down in a quiet corner listening to the band warm up to songs normally saved for Christmas.

I have also recently fallen in love with “my” church. For so long I haven’t been able to consistently attend one place. Fortunately, upon moving to my new apartment, I got introduced to Midtown on 12th. Something about having a place that is within walking distance and that is so small makes me feel so comfortable. However, the best part about it, is that I’m not comfortable. Midtown challenges me every time I go.

Last week in particular.

Despite what some would say about me, I’m a very logical person. I’m also a person that questions things. My mind just naturally wants to find out the truth of the matter. Its reflective and hungry for knowledge. Its rational in that way, if terribly irrational in others. Being this kind of person makes it difficult to be a believer. There is not much rational about believing in God or following Christ.

Now, before you slap a big “B” for blasphemer on me, hear me out.

I love Jesus. I believe in him and his story more than I believe in the ketchup bottle sitting next to me. Despite any questioning I have ever done or will ever do, this is innate in me. I’m a Christ-follower.

However, my brain cannot explain God. It also cannot explain or understand the process of Jesus coming to earth and covering my sins.

I’m ecstatic about the fact that he did. I’m in love for this reason.

But its still a struggle. Its a fight between my logical mind and my whimsical heart.

I want to talk more about why I believe what I do and how I have come to believe it. Not just say “it fell on me. it hit me like lightening”.

Granted, it did.

But there are also many reasons why I have this faith. Why I won’t unsubscribe to it. I have been thinking about this quite a bit lately and have had it brought up in many ways.

I hope you at least get a good read, if nothing else.

Everything that was comfortable and familiar to me has been left behind for a new, strange existence.

And I love it.

I had thought about destroying (isn’t that a fun word?) my old blog.

But then, why would I lose part of the journey?

I’m looking forward to starting this new path and sharing with you where it leads me.

God is getting me ready for something. And I can’t lace my shoes fast enough.

In my life, all the changes want to be friends…and wait for each other so they can happen at the same time.

I mean, I’m usually ok with peace and harmony. Just not when I need something consistent to keep me from the edge.

Hello, side of the cliff.

I guess my memory, much like my eyesight, gets worse every day. I can never seem to remember that when everything falls apart, something beautiful is being pieced back together.

When I moved back to Bowling Green over a year ago (wow, time) I didn’t think I would ever be happy or “comfortable” again. I was sure that I was doomed to go through the motions and be tortured with “failure” until the day I died.

I’m gonna copyright that last sentence in case my future emo band needs song ideas.

But just like an ugly caterpillar turns into a butterfly, a broken life turns into one with extraordinary purpose and adventure.

My cocoon opened up into Africa, a move to a bigger city and a group of friends/co-workers that were more like family.

I wish that I could tell future, scared and confused Hayley that when she reaches the corner of Despair and Giving Up, that all she has to do is take a step to the destination that God has given her.

We all need someone to tell us to turn the corner sometimes.

I’m hoping that during this time of change and loneliness that I don’t despair to a point of giving up. There are people out there who need me. God has given me such an overwhelming purpose, and helped me to that…while I continue to kick and scream.

I know that you have all been there before. And will most likely be there again.

Let’s ride together.

I’m utterly exhausted.

Today I worked for 14 hours. All of which I stood. Towards the end I couldn’t feel whether I was standing up straight or falling over.

And I would’ve eaten an entire cake without one bit of guilt because I was so hungry.

But I cannot focus on how bad things make me feel. I can’t focus on the exhaustion. I can’t focus on how much I hate it.

Even though that’s all I do.

What I have to focus on, instead, is when God has one of my friends sit with me on my break and talk to me about love.

Or the random phone call from a friend encouraging me and praying for me over the lines.

I have to focus on the hundreds of strangers I encounter every day. Each with his/her own story.

Or the lives of my co-workers. Fellow hard workers and wanderers.

And that’s just all there is to it.

I can’t say I’m anywhere close to being satisfied with this season of life. But its a gift nonetheless.

Please help me not lose focus.

Simple enough, right?

Oh so very wrong.

When you switch flights so many times something is bound to show up just in time to throw everything off.

Cut to scene of myself and my teammates sprinting through Heathrow,  probably diminishing any amicable feelings the British have for Americans.

As we stood panting in front of the clerk at the desk to pick up our boarding passes we realized that the plane that was leaving in 20 minutes did not care if we were on it or not.

This is how I spent 8 hours in London.

Let me rephrase that.

This is how I spent a very uncomfortable 8 hours trapped in Heathrow watching person after person sit across from me talking about their “bloody days”.

No Big Ben or Abbey Road in sight.

I’m not very good at being patient. In fact, I’m bloody awful at it. I feel like God was teaching me a fantastic lesson I would need to ultimately survive my trip. I’m guessing He just threw in all the accents for comedic relief.

Africa began to once again feel so far away. Around the 7th hour I decided that I would be eating fish and chips for the rest of my life.

Of course we eventually got to board the plane leaving for Johannesburg. But not a minute before I had learned my lesson. While sitting in my tiny space in the world I had time to contemplate everything that was waiting for me. To let myself dissolve into a new routine that would consume my life for the remainder of the trip.

Sound overdramatic?

Maybe.

But I’m grateful for my time spent in Heathrow.

I’m also grateful that I can pronounce “scone” without sounding like I’m throwing up.

I was stressed to capacity with a terrible living situation, too much work, relationships.

Probably bad hair days thanks to extreme summer heat.

Not to mention, my roommate and I could not seem to get our living situation set in stone.

I thought less about Africa leading up to it than I ever had before. Which is probably a good thing considering a girl who is afraid to ride on a plane at all was about to spend the next 24 hours doing nothing but that.

I owe a great deal to my mom for basically planning my entire trip for me. If it wasn’t for her I probably would never have set foot on a plane. And I definitely would not have even had so much as a toothbrush to take with me.

I had to get vaccinations and paperwork and materials to teach kids and..and…and…

Going to Africa is not like going to Paris.

I had only met one person I would be traveling with.

Once.

The other four people I had never spoken one word to.

Sound daunting?

Possibly.

But I was not afraid of this at all. In fact, it didn’t even occur to me until I met my teammates at the airport.

God took a girl who was afraid to leave her house or say hello to her own grandmother and transformed her into a person with actual social skills.

He was preparing me for this mission.

The last thing I remember before boarding the plane out of the United States was sitting across from a little boy and his mom in the Newark airport. I had made my final phone calls to people who would wait patiently for me to go across the world and back. I just sat quietly and tried to wrap my mind around the whole thing. I was starting to get scared for the first time. Wondering if God knew what He was doing.

Which is not something you should ever wonder.

I looked at the little boy around the time the “wondering” started. He had pulled out a math workbook. He asked his mother for a pencil.

And that is the moment God answered my question.

The little boy said “J’aid besoin d’un crayon!”

His mom searched for a pencil and answered to him she didn’t have one.

And this small-town Kentucky girl, understanding what he wanted, pulled a pen out of her purse and handed it to the boy.

I boarded the plane to London knowing that little French family was reassurance that I had been scared before, but He had not lead me astray. This adventure would be no different.

Bon voyage!

It goes, “a journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step”.

I mean, it’s a pretty accurate and wonderful quote.

But a journey of just thousands of miles is going to take a lot more than just a single step to get started.

When the idea of Africa first became a realistic possibility I was in contact with a non-profit resource center in Mozambique (remember when we studied that in French class?) I could not have been more excited about the idea of just flying off to the village and learning how to irrigate things so I could teach someone else.

Silly Farmer.

Thanks to the World Cup and the overly daunting task of finding a flight that wasn’t going to have my great-grandkids in debt, Mozambique started to get farther and farther away.

As someone who likes to cry, I spent the greater part of that time period releasing any water I have ever stored up in my body.

It didn’t seem quite right that the idea of going to Africa had been dangled in front of me, only to be taken away at the last second because of several small details.

But small details come together to create one giant problem.

Then one day my mom took me to a Mexican restaurant (the safest place to drop a bomb on anyone) and presented to me the idea of going to Zimbabwe instead. For a much shorter time. Like, a month shorter.

Queso has never tasted so bad.

Once I got over my internal temper tantrum I realized that Mozambique was just not going to work. And if I had any hope of going to Africa I was going to have to take what I could get.

And lets face it, the trade-off was really no trade-off at all.

And its funny how God always knows better than we do. I mean, it doesn’t seem funny at the time. But He’s pretty hilarious when you look back on things.

I just wanted to share this part of the tale to remind you (and myself) that sometimes our plans change. Even when we can’t bear for them too.

But when God closes a door, He opens every window in the house.