...i find rest in you...

My choice title for this little excerpt is quite ironic. I spent last evening in a house with 15 girls, most of whom are between 15 and 18. Young Life sleepover. It was as fun as it sounds. Until this morning - talk about a train wreck. I'm just not wired to stay up until 4 am anymore...especially when I have to be at work by 9. I find it quite ironic that I find solace in the faces of the ones who used to intimidate me. I'm more comfortable hanging around with these high school girls than I am almost anywhere else; I relate to them so well - of course, I blame my love for the disney channel, the word "like" and the Jonas Brothers, but I digress.

Really, I think my thought process right now (in the rest department) is this: there's a guy that keeps showing up in my dreams. I'm the kind of person that if I talk about something excessively, that something generally shows up in my dreams. However, this guy is hardly ever the topic of conversation with me until someone walks into my office and asks who he is (a picture of he and I are sitting on my desk), my mom asks how he's doing (she adores him) or if I randomly get a text from him. The weird thing is it's never an obvious situation when he shows up in a dream, its ALWAYS somewhere completely off the wall where he would never be. AND he always shows up to somehow save me. Last night, for example, this really scary man was walking his two larger than life dogs (they really were huge...think the movie "The Sandlot" when Squints is telling the story about "the beast"). The dogs started barking as I walk up the sidewalk trying to get to my car and one begins to lunge toward me - the owner doesn't care, if you were wondering - and just as soon as I start to jump to the left to avoid the ferocious beast, I jump into this guy's arms and all he says is "It's okay. You're okay." I look up at him and then we start walking and I woke up. It's always something like that. He's always coming to my rescue. I wonder what that means...

I think that parallels with real life quite poignantly. I feel like I'm in need of a rescue. It would be real nice if this guy were the one to really do that. I mean, he does. He's one of the best. Not many people can make me feel like I'm the only one in a room when we're surrounded. I don't love him, or really even like him. I just really appreciate him and wish I could see him more than a couple of times a month.

For now, I'm glued to the Olympics and thanking God every day for Michael Phelps.