I'm a child at heart

     I start my senior year of high school this coming Tuesday.
    I had to type that in order to believe it. Now, with those words boldly staring back at me on my fingerprint-smudged computer screen, it is starting to sink in.
    I knew this was coming and I ardently ignored the signs. Nearly all of my friends started school this week; my Facebook news feed has since been clogged with pictures and statuses about fresh starts and uniforms and inevitably huge amounts of homework. All my books are piled neatly on the bottom shelf of the bookcase by the front door (a blessedly smaller pile than last year's). On a drive the other day I noticed some of the trees lining the highway were turning gold, and it's not even September yet.
    Why have I had such a hard time letting go of summer? Because, to be honest, I don't want to grow up. I am a Peter Pan, avoiding adulthood like the plague for fear of careers and business clothes and responsibility.
    Yeah, I'm immature. I can shamelessly say that, and my closest friends would quickly agree. I'm a child at heart. I have the inherent ability to be the totally mature, confident young woman that some people admire and trust, yet at the same time, just under the surface, I'm the 6-year-old with an awkward sense of style and messy hair. My idea of getting dressed on days when I don't leave the house is putting on another pair of pajamas or sweats. I intentionally mismatch my socks. I watch Disney movies and sing along to every song (but come on, what girl doesn't know all the words to "A Whole New World" or "I'll Make A Man Out Of You?"). I put sprinkles on my pancakes and forget to brush my hair and consider it a capitol offense when my parents have the audacity to send me to bed early.
    I don't know why Mom and Dad think it's a wise idea to send me off to college next fall. Who knows how I'll survive guided by my own judgement? With no one to help me cook something -anything- without poisoning the food? No one to tell me to take one or two Tylenol when I'm under the weather? Not having to make my own decisions for seventeen and a half years has been great, but it certainly has not prepared me for The Real World. 
    In all honesty, I love knowing I can still act like a kid and get away with it. I think I still look younger than I am. Being brought up as one of the younger kids in a big family, I spent a lot of time with my little brother and sister (who aren't really little anymore- they're both taller than me). I don't mind. I excuse myself by saying I'm soaking up as much immaturity and whining as I can before I officially become a grown-up and have to act my age. Might as well get it all out of my system now, before crossing the barrier into Adulthood.
    Well, that's my philosophy. A lot of people might disagree with that, and you know how I would handle them? Probably by sticking out my tongue and laughing maniacally and skipping away. Unleashing my inner 6-year-old is my favorite comeback. Of course, there are possibly people who think I'm a mature, well-raised young lady and would deny everything I have said in this post. To them, I would most likely laugh and shake my head and say, with a smile, "if only you knew."
--Laura
    

p.s, just in case you needed visual proof, here I am in Cookie Monster footy pajamas. Point and case.

"my thoughts are stars I cannot fathom into constellations"

    It's amazing how fast this summer has gone by, like trees lining the highway. I haven't posted anything in a really long time- I should have after VBS at my church, and the unbelievable missions trip I went on to Boston, and when I got home from Cape Cod. But, I didn't, because I was afraid my words couldn't do justice to how changed I feel after those few short weeks. I learned a thousand lessons and ate several slices of humble pie and cried my eyes out a few times (being like, three times as emotional as I used to be is one way I'm different). I'm the same old Laura -the one who gets enraptured by Pride & Prejudice and bites her nails and thinks about working out more than she actually does- except my perspective has changed. I'm better at accepting myself and other people for who we are, which is huge for me. I'm learning to live as a reformed control freak. I learned that "facing fear, trusting God" isn't just a motto for vacation Bible school, it's the way a fraidy-cat like me should be living life. And when my brother beats me to the bathroom and I can't take a shower, I should stop and thank God, because I have a shower and a brother and some people don't have either. And sometimes you don't need a reason to cry, but other times you need to cry over insecurity and sad endings in books and kids with cancer.
    As young people, we get the message that we're supposed to have really high expectations for summertime. We're supposed to live with no regrets and say "YOLO" a lot and take candid pictures and have all sorts of adventures before the new school year begins. I know from experience that summer usually isn't all it's cracked up to be because we try too hard to make everything perfect. And, yeah, my summer was far from perfect this time around. But I think that was what made it real. And I'm honored and thankful for all the memories I now have, and the people who were with me on every journey and adventure and new experience. :)
    Now, it's almost fall- my all-time favorite time of year. I love the everchanging weather and the colors of nature, a constant reminder that there is a Designer who knows how to display His glory in creation. I love being able to wear sweaters again and getting a fresh start to a new school year (even though I'm totally burnt out by March, but come on, who isn't?). This fall is special, because it's my last one I get to experience at home. Next year, I'll be a college freshman- eighteen years old and out on my own, getting to know the world as much as possible beyond the four walls of a drafty dorm room. The universe of Adulthood is fast approaching, and I'm excited and sad and nervous because I still feel like a socially awkward 12-year-old with a bad haircut. I'm utterly unprepared. It's a funny thing when you talk and dream and worry about something, because once it happens, for all your planning you have no idea what to expect. Yet, for once I am not afraid. I know I'm not alone this time- I have a God who endlessly loves me, a supportive family, and some pretty amazing friends who will cheer me on no matter what. And I'm praying that whatever happens to me over the next year, it will prepare me as best as possible for that Great Perhaps lying just outside of my front door.
--Laura :)