I made it home. That is my parents home. It feels strange to be back and i've found that i'm restless. Coming into this old country town brings back so many good and painful memories... When I lived here I always felt some ambivalence for this valley: I hated it, because there was (is) nothing to do and I loved it, because it is where I went to college and it is where I met Frank. Just like any place the good and the bad showed itself to me. But returning here for an entire week has been strange. It was rodeo weekend and as much as I try to relate to the country culture... actually that is a lie. I don't try to relate. It repulses me. All my ideal values come up when I'm here and the conservative ideals of this country begin to annoy me. But I find that I'm restless for other reasons... This trip has been painful. On Monday, I was tempted to find a way to get back home, but then I realized that this is exactly where God wants me.

The past few months I've been feeling God chip away at my heart. My pride has become increasingly set. So in the process of becoming humbled I've been struck with how completely prideful my heart has become. In my pride, i've found a way to bypass the need for God and to rely on my own strength. So when I came here I thought that it was just a great idea to get away from the cilty and rest, but I've found that there is so much more to this visit. I realized on Monday that my home (Seattle) was the last place He wanted me to be. In the city I can run, I can hide, I can find a place to escape, but here it is just me. So here I am five days into my visit and I feel broken, inept and insecure. This week is not over so I'm just waiting to see where it leads me. I'm praying for humility, peace and hope. Humility to fall to my knees, peace to calm my troubled soul and a hope that goes beyond my understanding. And rest. I've realized that the rest I've needed is not just a physical need, but a spiritual necessity.