The rows of trees run in straight lines, rows upon rows that are a mesmerizing blur. Cherry trees, orange trees, almonds trees. I wear my sunglasses because I don't want my eyes to be seen. Windows down, the Killers blasting, tears in my eyes. Sometimes I miss out, I know I do. It takes me a while to be friends with anyone. "I'm not very good at friends." Katniss said. And I know just how she feels. I've always had family around me, I've always had friends, no matter how awful I am at friendship. I don't make new friends, because I'm a brat. I decide pretty quickly that I don't like anyone in the room. Maybe I was born this way, just came out of the womb annoyed with the whole world. I love people, I really do. I didn't realize that I'm not very nice until I moved faraway from my beautiful sisters, with their sassy attitudes and bright smiles and ridiculous ideas. They never fail to make me laugh. I'm grateful for them, and don't really feel like I need friends. But I do get lonely, it just doesn't sink in for a while. And now here, in this moment, I am sad because I did not realize the friends I've had around me in LEC. It took me ten months. And today I am bummed because I will not be traveling with them to England. I won't be praying for people and ministering together. I look out the window again, and the words of Brandon Flowers make my stomach hurt:
"You gotta be stronger than the story, don't let it blind you, rivers of shadow, this feeling won't go."
I can speak in confidence, in a strong voice, when I'm not talking about me. Amanda is nearly in tears about the leaders being ticked at her. A few nights before, we had pranked Shane, and apparently we went too far. Amanda got the flak for it, maybe because she is the responsible one. "Amanda, let it go. They'll be over it like tomorrow. And it could be much, much worse. I just pretend I'm invincible. And I expected to be in trouble." I grinned at her. She laughed and told me of course I didn't care. I feel like I've always been in trouble. Maybe because I look for it.
After about an hour we reached Vina. The monastary is quiet, the most quiet and beautiful places I've been to, with rich green grasses and rows of vineyards and stone buildings. In the clusters are giant orange trees, branches heavy with the bright fruit, hanging over the fences. I had never seen orange trees til I moved to California. We gathered up and ate lunch on a large wooden trailer. Jill told us we were going to eat in silence, like the monks. I've never felt that way before. It was like having alone time but not being alone. I could feel the hearts all around me, I could feel my own emotion hurting my chest. I sat cross legged and ate a little, while I looked at each person around me. Luke reminds me of a dog, in the best possible way. Loyal eyes. Shane stared into the distance, his tattooed arms crossed, every once and a while pulling on one of his dreaded locks or stroking his beard, with that serious look on his face. Shane reminds me of me. Intimidating, direct, adventurous. Some people think he's always mad. But I never do. Justin sits by me, pulling on his red beard, and probably praying quietly. Abbey always has a furrowed brow, thinking deeply about something.
Jill told us we needed to stay silent, but take a long walk around the property. We walked quietly, scattered about, towards a large stone structure that is still being built. The giant arched doorways stretch overhead, making Jills silhouette look small as she walks through. The ceilings are high, and each stone and bit of wood is designed beautifully. The roof looks easy to access, but I quickly shut down my own idea and roll my eyes at my childlike impulses. Jared walks inside and stands by a pillar, his browns eyes thoughtful, and begins to sing.
"Oh, precious is the flow, that makes me white as snow. No other fount I know, nothing but the blood of Jesus."
Our voices expand and rise, bouncing off the ceiling, this motley gang of peoples voices blending together in quiet worship. I feel the hearts. I do. I feel these hearts expressing worship. What do those words mean? I've never paid much attention to the hymn. White as snow. I thank my father for making me feel clean and young. I walk the property, striding along the dirt road that runs in perimeter around the vineyard. I roll the sleeves of my denim shirt up and think about the fact that I don't know who I am. I came here to find that out, and my one goal I didn't succeed. Instead my head is filled with memories of these people, their stories, laughter, tears and opinions. So much time spent together. My throat hurts. I do not recall this feeling of pain. It's a good pain, My heart hurts at the thought of not being near them. And my eyes fill with tears because I did not fulfill my goal but instead I discovered a thousand other small rivers, and they all run through me now.
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