Awaiting Departure

Sometimes I feel like the title of this post is the title of my life. I don't know where I'm going yet, or haven't gotten to a place where it's important yet. I think about it all the time, but the funny thing about time is that my time is not God's, just as His is not mine. I'm waiting though for the purpose to smack me in the head ... it usually does. Then my departure will take place, and I'll arrive somewhere to begin the next journey.

When people ask me where I'm from, I either tell them a non-specific location like Kansas or spout off a five minute explanation of every place I've lived for my entire life. It's been that way since I first began college. My dad, with whom I'd been living, moved after I started my freshman year. My "home" has traveled with me also to Nebraska, Kansas, Florida, and back to Nebraska again. Home is not the place, but the people in my life. The ones who are are never the same, but they become "home" or normal for me. I interact with, listen and speak with them about life, love and interests. They become my family, kind of. Home resides with my dad though, which doesn't make sense.

I'm still in college now, but will not be in a few short months. Ask me where I'll go or what I'll do, and I have no answer. My life sits in the ever-changing quick sand of fluctuation and change. Ask me if I'm worried, and I'll respond, "Yes, but something's always come my way." By chance or God, operating from the seat of my pants is dangerous, but is my chosen way of life.

I, like others, have a second chance in life. Viewed however people view the so-called chances, I know that my purpose is there, but haven't found it yet. Some find passion in making movies, teaching or acting as missionaries; I ...

I like poetry.

Becca