...And There Goes that Mistake

Last night my roommates and I decided to go to a "non-school-sponsored" bonfire at the dunes, which by the way are incredibly far out of the realm of civilization (yes, that includes Rexburg, the city with two main streets: the one with Wal-Mart on it and the one to get out of here!). The signal on my cell phone kept drifting in and out, and finally it was lost completely. I felt totally cut off from the world, which is oftentimes not such a bad thing. I decided to take in the simplicity and look out my window at the fields glowing in the light of the moon; they seemed to ask some kind of question which I didn't know the answer to. All they did was dance silently in the autumn breeze, which gets colder every day. Perhaps they were pointing my eyes in the direction of the sky, and that's when it hit me: I haven't truly looked at the stars since we went to Union this past summer for Grandma Great's funeral. Why do the simplest and most beautiful things always slip thru my fingers? We always focus all of our desires and hopes into the biggest and temporal things, not thinking about life in an eternal perspective. Right then I got this whispery, happy feeling and I knew I could move here permanently, even though it'll be snowing buckets eventually. I knew that our Heavenly Father is always leading us along where we're supposed to be, and He's led me, a stubborn redheaded girl who always wants to stay in her comfortable bubble of a life, four hours away from my family and riding in the backseat of a green Honda on a road thru a starry-lit field. Whew, typing that sentence was a workout for my phalanges!! I get to use words like "phalanges" now, and I get to make shrimp fettucine for dinner on weekdays, and I even go to class early just to think about life, just because I'm in college. In other words, I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.