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As I write this, I'm sitting rather haphazardly on my bed. I spilled tea on my comforter this morning, and after a wash and dry, it's now arrayed messily around my legs. I have my computer, a book, my planner (with which I am obsessed), and the second Hobbit movie is playing on my little TV. I'm never getting up. Lubbock is pretty empty this weekend. This is the week of the annual Texas Music Educators' Association's (TMEA) convention, and a lot of Tech music students usually make the trek to San Antonio for the festivities and the flurry of activity. I did that my freshman year, but I'd rather save my money, so I opted to stay put this year. Liz, Becky, and several of my other friends are gone, and several of my music classes were canceled (the School of Music basically shuts down this week), so I haven't seen a lot of anyone this week. But that ended up being for the best, because I have gone and over-sung again.

You would think I would have learned my lesson from the way the over-singing went down at AIMS. But I guess I didn't. The knowledge that my recital is this semester kind of freaked me out, I guess, and I've been pushing my voice so much that after an audition last week, it was done with my nonsense. It was having no more of it. I've been on voice rest since Monday, and I haven't sung in a week. It feels so weird, and I don't like it, but you know? The entire AIMS experience with vocal strain really did teach me something (though obviously not what I would have liked it to teach me!). If you recall, my reaction to vocal rest at AIMS was, quite literally, to kick and scream and protest. This time, even though I hated it, I decided I was going to trust God. It's been an active trust, let me tell you. This week has been living proof of the fact that if you don't take your rest, God is going to make you take it.

I guess it's all really about learning to be content with where you are: hence the title of this blog post. I guess I kind of spoiled that punch line, huh? I've been learning this a lot lately. Anyone who reads this blog, or knows me at all, knows that I'm a perfectionist; I want things to be a certain way. I have an inner standard for myself, and if I don't meet it, I push and push and drive myself until I do.This is true in most areas of my life: not just singing, but also in my schoolwork, my organization, sometimes even my relationship with Jesus -- which should be the least perfectionist thing that I do. I want everything to be just so, you know? So much of me thinks that that's a good thing: it's what drives me. And because of that, it is a good thing! But with me it tends to get out of control, and I drive myself crazy trying to meet my own standards -- which, I admit, are often impossible. I'm twenty years old, for the love of God. I know I'm not going to sound like I'm forty right now, but dang, that's hard to believe.

I know contentment is kind of hard around Valentine's Day.  Y'all, I don't think you know how much I love being single and independent, but it's hard at this time of year. I get kind of remember-y and weird. Not to mention that, I'm not joking when I say that basically everyone on my news feed is getting engaged or is beginning a new relationship, and I'm over here saying, "... I love Jesus. And opera." Around Valentine's Day, life can seem a little lonely: especially when all my friends are in San Antonio. But I'm learning to fall back on this: Jesus has always proven Himself to be enough for me. And guys, He's given me a contentment that could come from nowhere else. I want for nothing. I've been so, so blessed. I could sing His praises all day except that I don't really have enough words for that.  How can I be anything but content with where I am?

Key words: from where I am, Where are you? You may not like it. And then again, you may -- and isn't that awesome? But look at what you've been given: your opportunities, the love with which you're surrounded. Life is good, guys. And even though sometimes life is hard, and you can hardly breathe for the tangle of complications suffocating you, there is so much for which you can be grateful.  I'm so blessed to he truly glad with where I am. This isn't about being happy, y'all. Happy is an emotion; I shouldn't use the word "happy".  It's contentment. Sometimes life is crap. But it's good. Just because something is good doesn't mean it will make you happy. It's like what Mr. Beaver says about Aslan: "Safe? 'Course He isn't safe! But He's good."

And that's what Adventure is all about, isn't it? It isn't always safe or fun or everything you want it to be. But it's good. And anything that's good is going to be difficult at some point. In the end, it's so worth it.

I haven't written about anything in a long time, let alone Adventure. But it's good to be reminded. It's good to be back.

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