Last night I went down to Kent with Twaan. It was good, despite the mishap of getting lost and me being really angry with Twaan’s mad back seat driving skills. He was just trying to be helpful, becuase sometimes I get stressed in traffic (in an unfamiliar, borrowed car). But it had the opposite effect. Not to mention I have just been grumpy for the last 5 days, at least.

But Kent, Kent itself was wonderful. We went to see Indo people. I met Uncle Wally for the first time. We were headed for the back door, and Uncle Wally threw open the front door, calling “Tony!” We made a hard left turn, marched up the steps and straight into the arms of the most famous missionary I know. He gave me a hug, even though we hadn’t met yet. He said he feels like he already knows me, he’s heard so much from Barb (anthony’s mom). And then we went inside to join at least thirty other people eating Soto Ayam, drinking some koolaid-punch-beverage, and sitting or standing all over the house.

This is what I love about the Indo people. We were half an hour late, and Wally ignored my apology as though it had never occurred to him. People smiled and shook my hand, people hugged me and knew who I was, and some of them were excited to meet me. There was so much food, and it was still coming off the stove. There were greetings in other languages, and kisses and lots of laughter. It was like one big happy family reunion.

Except, it wasn’t just like a reunion. It was a family coming back together, even though we didn’t know half of them and some hadn’t been seen for years. This is why I miss missionaries. Because I miss having family and feeling at home in a place I’ve never been.

I should be working on a paper. I have about 1 page of 4. It’s on the gift of Tongues. I’m writing about Acts vs 1 Corinthians. It’s been an interesting week of intense research, I have never read so many commentaries on Acts or 1 Corinthians 14. Calvin, Barnes, ICC, New Bible Commentary, and then there’s all the ish by Pentecostals and Cessasionists. I have six books in front of me, and notes from three more on my lap top that I am using. I have two footnotes and a title page.

I also need to go, now. But I dont want to. There is so, so much to do right now. So much has to get done before next week. You could pray about htat for me. I would appreciate it. There simply isn’t enough time in the world, and I feel so incredibly unmotivated. I just want to sip lattes, make chai, be friends with people, and ignore time.

Spring break is so soon, though. So soon. I am quite literally living on the strength of Jesus. Someday I will make a list of all the things I’ve learned this quarter. It’ll be a doo-zy.

oh shoot. crap. my paper is supposed to be double spaced. which means, I have 2 of 4 pages done. I haven’t even started 1 Corinthians. this is bad. there is not going to be enough space for everything.

I haven’t updated in a while. It’s been a crazy crazy quarter. I am taking less credits, with more work than ever before. It’s been good though, I have learned so much. I am growing a good deal, though it doesn’t always feel like it. There are little things that God is changing in my life, and I think that I will be able to see them more fully over time time during break or even beyond.

The sun is out today in Seattle, it’s one of the few times I don’t regret coming to school here. The sunshine reminds me of freshman year, Ed/Min with Dr. Smyth and laying on the green Demarray lawn while pretending to do homework. It reminds me of the times at Gasworks, and dancing in the Loop, the clouds at Marshall, Wednesday night Rendevouz and so much more.

I’m listening to David Crowder, and I should be working on a paper. But I can’t focus right now. I can’t seem to stay on topic, I can’t think of what to say about Brad’s music and John Wesley. There’s so much to say, and yet, it’s all been said in the simple lyrics. I am wishing and wishing that I could do justice to his words, but instead I am distracted by the guy in the green shirt in Martin Square. He keeps checking his cell phone, and he has a funny black and red bag on the ground below the bench that is bathed in sunlight. Earlier it seemed the whole of campus had descended on Martin Square below me. There was Molly and the boy talking to her was the same one that flirted outrageously with Leah last year. Emily was there, wearing the unecessary red jacket, and the red hat that didn’t quite match crowned her black hair. Yikwa was sitting there with his laptop, his timbuktu bag still slung over his shoulder, covering his waist. He is probably working on the same paper as me.

But now I’m watching Lindsey walk away with Molly. I don’t know when Lindsey in her bright yellow sweater arrived on the warm bricks set in such a confusing pattern. And now Yikwa has picked up his cellphone, checked the time, closes his laptop, stands, adjusts his timbuktu, and grabs the laptop in one hand, then waddles away. And the boy with the bright green shirt, short sleeved despite the faint chill; the one wearing the funny brown hat that makes him look Russian or Mongol; he has slung his odd red and black backpack over his shoulder, checked his cell phone one last time, and he has moved from my line of vision.

ah the windows in the third floor of the library.

so entirely distracting.

but Wesley is calling…