And We're Back

It's around 4pm here and I'm glad to be awake. I'm sitting in the computer lab, history project done, laundry in process, listening to the new Crowder album and just reflecting. I've actually been reflecting all day. In the wee hours in the morning at the tail end of our 11 hour train ride back from Sydney I asked Shane what his favorite part of vacation was and accepted the fact that he couldn't answer only because that's my answer as well. It's not that I had a bad time or was so overwhelmed that I couldn't pick a few memories that stand out, but that my vacation wasn't in the stunning moments (of which there were a few) but in the simple moments where life seemed to be calm again.
At some point in the past two weeks Shane was reading (for history I believe) a quote that has been tossing itself around in my head. The day is to be divided into eights. Eight hour of work, eight hour of play, and eight hours of sleep. I miss eights. I don't remember the last time I had eights. Is that sad? I was thinking that the life of a college student might not meant to be eights, at least that's not the expectation that comes with all of the work. Then as I was hanging up the laundry today I was wondering if I'm even supposed to continue on to be a pastor, if I woman's life is demanding just with cleaning, cooking, and laundry that seems never-ending. Now don't get me wrong, I know I am supposed to go on in schooling to be a pastor, but that doesn't make my wondering about when the eights come into actuality cease.
The first week of break was spent here in the city. The original plan was to work a divorce care ministry in the morning, get some school work done and hit up museums in the afternoons, then go out for dinner and shows at night to unwind. Did this really happen? No. I don't really know what happened, or even what went wrong, but it was not a restful break. It had its moments of beauty, like going out to see Phantom, but for the most part it was just hard. Probably one of the hardest weeks I've ever had emotionally, but that doesn't make it any easier to put my finger on why. It just was. So by the time Sunday rolled around I felt as if I had wasted (and I really don't believe in wasting time) this huge amount of time. I wasn't any closer to having school work done. I had written one paper that was semi-past due. And I wasn't happy. I was ready to get out of Melbourne when we headed to Sydney.
We arrived at our youth hostel bright and early Monday morning (we pulled into the Central train station around 7am) we were pretty much exhausted. It was all sorts of an adventure trying to figure out the public transportation system in a new city while hulling all of our luggage. We couldn't actually check into our hostel for a while so we found our way to a beach about 1.5 hours from where we were staying. I got to walk on the beach, playing at the water's edge, and sleep. It was like everything clicked and I saw finally that this is what I wanted vacation to be like - relaxing. In our culture we seem to prize who gets to do the most for the least amount of money in the least amount of time. Why is it about most when we think of the best? Isn't the best just enjoying what you have and the people you have it with? It was like this stark contrast arose between the weeks of vacation and I finally felt free.
Monday night everyone crashed pretty early. Mine was a tad out of necessity after getting pretty sick around 7pm, but the next morning I felt great. Tuesday we got to explore pieces of Sydney and doing what we do best, just walking. We somehow ended up at Darling Harbor and down by the Royal Gardens, I think that is my only regret of break: that we didn't get to spend more time there. I really wish America had more gardens, just a place to go and be a part of beauty. Not see it, but feel it. Amazing.
Wednesday and Thursday we spent time in Maitland with Jesse! Oh how I miss that boy. It was here that I probably had what would I consider to be my two favorite moments of break. One was just driving with Jesse who is one of the people that I feel completely comfortable just driving in silence with. It's not awkward silence, but a familiar comfortable silence. But in one of the times when we were talking, the topic of the challenges of being a pastor emerged and I found blessing and comfort in the fact that he's struggling with some of the same things that I am. While they may look different, at the heart they are the same issues.
The second moment came after Shane and I finished a movie we were watching, somehow we got off on this long conversation about life and God and everything in between that felt good, a familiar type of good that I have missed.
Friday we went to Hillsong Youth Conference around Mt. Duritt with a friend of ours from the college, David. I'm not sure how I feel about it. It wasn't anything grand or spectacular, just your basic youth conference. And I had mixed feelings about the speaker. At first I thought he was really good, but then he started talking about praying big, to ask God for things that are outside of your comprehension. On one hand I totally agree, and on the other my brain was wondering if that's really praying for God's will. All too often church's today aren't preaching on achieving God's will, but to run after our own selfishness.
Saturday was another one of those interesting travel days where it took about 5 hours to get from point A to point B. Haha. It was an interesting ride let me tell you. Then we went to our second hotel, and fourth place of residence in a week before heading out to a choarl concert that Shane wanted to go to. Sunday we got up and went to the beach and the Opera house to see the Australian Chamber Orchestra before going home.
And now I'm back. And honestly I don't want to be. Even if it wasn't the stress of returning to work, I still wouldn't want to be back in Melbourne. In Sydney I got to just be myself with different pieces of my family, and I miss that. Will I ever be allowed to have that here?