Day 1: In the Beginning.....
There was a group of people who shared a common interest, and they all decided to do a blog for 21 consecutive days, bla bla bla.
I think that at this point, you already have the general idea of what's going on.
(No, am I wrong? Go check it out here: http://www.zacharyforget.com/my-evil-plan-to-save-the-world . It's pretty awesome.)
Today marks the beginning of 21 days of blogging.
An interesting undertaking, is it not?
When my brother first brought it up, I was like ‘pfft, LAAAAAME. Who really wants to sit at their computer every day and blog about their daily thoughts, struggles, hopes and dreams?’And then I remembered that not all people are as lazy as me, and there are also people who don’t have anyone else to tell those things to.
Also, it’s 2011. Pretty much everyone wants to do that.
In all actuality, this blog isn’t a place where I’m going to bear my soul to any interwebberz who happen to stumble upon this blog (or any family and friends who actually pay attention to what I post of facebook). Instead, this will be much more.
Right off the bat, I’m writing this on a plane as I fly over the United Stated of America, on my way home to Puerto Vallarta.
That’s right, I’m on a plane. THAT is how epic this is all going to be.
Secondly, I’m going home for the sole reason to see one of my closest friends graduate, and the fact that I get to see my lovely Claudia and just love on my other friends is a major bonus. Maybe we’ll make another episode of the Kenzie and Nancy show. Who knows.
All I know is that none of this could have happened had I never had the chance to get to know a wonderful, merciful, loving and caring God.
He’s pretty much the whole reason that I am who and where I am today.
Namely, on a plane.
I’d been living with my family in Mexico for what I thought was long enough, and I wanted out. I didn’t believe that Mexico had anything to offer me, and I was fairly certain that the grass was much greener in Canada (NOTE: It wasn’t. It was covered in 4 feet of snow.)
So I was given the green light by all parties involved, and I left the warmth of Mexico for the frigid temperatures of -40 C on February 4th, 2011. For a month I lived out in the middle of nowhere with my wonderful Grandparents, gaining weight and hating the weather and my lack of a social life and ability to leave the house (again, because it was -40 C). But I had come to Canada with a goal, which was to start working in a restaurant with the intention of going to Culinary school at NAIT in the fall and therefore becoming the greatest, most fantastical chef in the world (pretty abstract, hey?). So in the beginning of March of 2011 I moved into Edmonton and began working as a prep chef in Brewsters. It was glorious. I had freedom. I was living (kind of) on my own. I learned how to write a cheque (!!!). And I could do whatever the heck I pleased (as long as I was home before the busses stopped running, and as long as I would be able to wake up for work in time. Crazy living, right?).
I was connected to a really fantastic church, and I had a few great friends. Inevitably, things kind of slowed down, the fantastic and exciting became the mundane, and I was getting tired. I was going to lose the best friend that I had in Canada, my coworkers were starting to make me want to stab them(I had the resources) and I needed to move out of the house that I was living in.
That’s when the worry started to kick in.
Things kind of crashed a tiny bit.
School wasn’t working out like I thought it would be, I was homesick and lonely and I was being a little selfish and childish.
So I did what I should have done months before: I got off of my high horse and I prayed.
I sat, and like I did at the end of January when I was wondering what the heck I was going to do and how I was going to get to Canada, I gave it all up to the Lord.
It wasn’t pretty, that’s for sure. I’d been shirking responsibility (well…. Sidestepping, really), I wasn’t focusing on the things that I should have been focusing on, and I was just being a generally inconsistent person.
I don’t know how long I sat there for, but afterwards I was exhausted. God Time has always been something that I’ve loved, but sometimes (and by sometimes I mean most of the time) I’d get so wrapped up in my daily life that I forgot to give Him the time He deserved. Within the next week, things started working out.
As I began to understand the people who were driving me crazy I was able to learn how to deal with them and accept the fact that a) I was stuck with them for a while, and b) I was probably doing things that drove them crazy too, and I hadn’t been stabbed yet. I could do this.
The youth pastor at the church that I’m going to offered me a room in the house that he shares with his sister and another pastor, and at the urging of people who care about me, I decided to accept it.
Then my cousin offered me a month of living by myself in the condo that he and his roomie rented, so I could get the experience of living on my very own for a while (Scared? Me too. It’s healthy). And my plans for school took a drastic turn for the unexpected (but completely awesome.) So at this point, dear reader (or creeper…) I’m feeling pretty blessed.
I’m on a plane home to see some of the people that I most love, and whom I didn’t think I would get to see for much longer. Normally at the place where I work, you don’t get vacation time until you’ve been there for at least 6 months. I’ve been there for 4. Chef just told me to go home to Mexico and see my friend graduate, see my ex-maid’s new baby, and get hugged (funny story, there).
WE SERVE AN AMAZING AND LOVING GOD, PEOPLE.
He cares so much about the little things in our lives, it’s pretty freaking fantastic.
I’m about to land in Phoenix, meaning I’ll be home in just 4 short hours. I’m stoked. Don’t Panic.
-Kenzie
