One of the things I find nearly always cheers me up is balloons. And I don’t mean those decorative ones which you blow up yourself and throw on the floor, but helium. Those make me smile. Not only because they make your voice high and squeaky (although that’s fun, too) but because, though restrained, they continue to reach far and away into the sky, grasping evermore toward the heavens.

(A silly little thought, to be sure, but it gives me laughter (which heals) and hope (which soothes). I’m a bit simple like that.)

You see, as overly self-indulgent as it sounds, I am seriously contemplating going out and buying myself a few balloons right now. Because, well, I feel like I’m caught in suspension. It’s the “crazy happening” I alluded to earlier: recently, the decision was made that I won’t be returning to Moyer this upcoming year, but, instead, moving to Ashton to be the SMC — Student Ministry Coordinator — for 3rd West. Basically, I’m a floor RA/RLA (the SPU lingo is for it is actually PA — peer advisor) of sorts, but with more emphasis on the spiritual & community opportunities aspect.

In all honesty, I don’t know how to feel about this. It’s super cool stuff, but I have mixed emotions because it’s been such a long and involved process — feeling called, applying for the position, paperwork and interviews, sudden paralyzing doubts from nowhere, finding out I didn’t get a position but was an alternate, writing off the likelihood of the program needing an alternate with part dismay and part relief, being told there was a possible opening on 6th East Ashton, tentatively accepting the stand-in SMC role, hearing that it worked out with 6th East after all, and resigning myself to the fact things didn’t work out for a reason. Then, after I’d already reached a point of closure and seeing how good it was I didn’t become an SMC in Ashton — my wonderful roommie Angela not returning to SPU, the Ashtonians I mused as “a safe base point” all moving to other dorms, a closer introspective look at my strengths & weaknesses, exciting prospects and plans in Moyer — I get a phone call three months into my summer bringing it all up again and requesting my reply come within the next day. Good grief.

Is it any wonder that I am excited and anxious and rapt with anticipation and a tad disappointed and humbled and just everything all at once?

But it’s okay. Really. I’ve made my decision, so I’m going to run with it and run hard. If I meet another snag or doubt (as I am sure will happen), why, all I need to do is turn my mind back to my buoyant balloons.

They are confined by latex, caught in suspension, and left to the discretion of the wind, but that helium; it reaches, it strains, and — at last! — it escapes.

Because latex is porous and complications will pass, y’know?

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[Image courtesy of: http://www.sxc.hu/photo/596529]