hey how was your break good that's nice well see ya later

I have a hard time responding to shallow questions that have complex answers. My mom is overly honest. She doesn't believe in the nice lies we all say for brevity's sake or the comfort of others, and she passed on to me the guilt in saying "fine" in response to "how are you?" when I am not fine.

I'll probably just keep telling the masses that my break was good, and blog the whole truth to ease my conscience. But I think it was "good" when boiled down (a lot), so I don't feel like too much of a liar.

My break was unpleasant. It hurt a lot. It was lonely. It was not what I wanted, what I planned, or what I expected. It was 70% isolation, 27% dissatisfaction, and 3% good times (this is an approximation.) After a semester of failure in nearly every way, being alone was not what the doctor ordered. It was a perfect opportunity for Satan to attack me, and he did. Truthfully, I was depressed, I hated myself, and I was tricked into believing lies that contradict all of the Truth I know. 

It's hard to describe how it boils down to goodness, but in the past four days God has helped me to see the bright side. Seeing the mutilation that isolation causes has helped me to appreciate the need for community in a deeper way than I ever have. Falling for lies and learning from it reinforces the truth. Experience increases wisdom. Pain is the catalyst for growth. When I stumble, I stand up and brush my shoulders off. Failing reminds me that I must quit trying to earn God's love and quit insisting on leaving the tip when he buys my meal-- I will always be the desperate one in our relationship (and he'll wear the pants.) I'm writing all of this because when you have the flu, you should puke. 

For the first time ever, I have gratefully returned to school from break. Being back with friends feels like a band-aid and some neosporin on my oozy bruising scab. God is teaching me to hope.