And so here I am... I have returned to this fine institution of higher learning and the classes are in full swing. I am exhausted and I regret to admit that I have had little time for journaling or reflection, although I feel there is so much that ought to be put down and reflected upon. Do you ever find that your life seems to be flying at you? Whizzing by suddenly. Maybe its just coming off such a lazy break has left me winded... but nevertheless. I suppose now would be the appropriate time for a bit of solitude.

The semester is off to quite a different start from last semester. Over break, I felt like God was really calling me to a deeper kind of trust, a deeper hope, which is an encouraging way to face any semester. The past few days I have realized that I was much more lonely last semester than I realized. Strangely enough, I suddenly find myself surrounded by friends, real, good, loyal, friends. I finally find a bit of connection with my roommate, a struggle I have deeply wrestled with for a majority of the past semester. It is strange sometimes in my life I catch this glipse of this kind of life that reminds me why God said, "It is not good for man to be alone." Like I find myself fallen upon these friendships that can be nothing short of a sneak peek of heaven. I love discoveries like this. I wish I could somehow convey this sort of feeling, like a new sort of vision, but you can only experience it for yourself and I pray you do.

Along with this sort of uncovered enigma that is relationship, I have been thinking a bit about history and culture a lot lately. While I was in Chicago I was struck by the sense of past-ness that was all around, especially in comparison to what we seem to value here in Colorado. In Chicago, I could not help but look around and notice, even in the buildings, that there was a story in everything. THings were old-- hundreds of years old. And these things were respected. These old buildings with words printed upon them that no longer served to explain their use-- something about it, cried out, "There has been something here before and it is important." Like being surrounded by someone else's great-grandparents who you know care deeply for their grandchildren.

And as I thought about my hometown and the culture I have been used to, history seems to mean little. The town I grew up in is constantly seeking to build new cookie-cutter houses, big-box stores, big-name chains. Chains that mean nothing. And the downtown, the history, means little. I can't help but feel that the few things remaining-- Salzman's Shoe Repair, Garnsey and Wheeler-- mean nothing. It seems the focus is to keep up with these big cities that are built on the history we have neglected.

My favorite class of the semester is my Asian American History course. As in most history classes, we have discussed, why do we study history at all? And I just think it is so important because history is the foundation of who we are today-- the past is part of us. I have heard an explanation of the Jewish emphasis on human history, especially in the Old Testiment, is important becuase these are not stories about Abramaham and Noah-- they are our stories, and I always sort of wondered what exactly that meant. I think I am beginning to see...

I feel that this semester is going to end with my brain containing a great deal of new knowledge, a new appreciation for the world we live in. There is something about sitting in my history class and just listening becuase there is so much I do not know. I love that feeling. Although such a situation has the potential to be intimidating, it is inspiring to me. It makes me feel beautiful and enlightened. It makes me know that there is hope out there beyond myself.

I am afraid it is getting too late for me to be much deeper, so I shall leave you with those few, seemingly incomplete thoughts...