my dad calls me a lot on his way home from work

its late. i have procrastinated worse than ever. two article summaries, a midterm to begin studying for (hours before the actual test takes place), papers and reports looming..blah blah, just the usual.--and of course i'm drafting a long, deep blog post.

yet, i'm enjoying immensely the feeling in my home and heart tonight. Earlier all the roommates were in the kitchen sharing the largest piece of chocolate cake I've ever seen. Hannah got home early, i did my laundry and put warm clean sheets on my bed. I'm wearing slipper socks, leggings and that BYU sweatshirt that used to be my dad's but now is a lot like a dress.  It's pretty quiet in the house except for the sound of me typing, and the muffled noises of Grey's Anatomy coming from Hannah's bed (yes, i got her hooked).

Amidst the busyness of today, i made time to attend institute class. Just before institute i had realized that I forwent my prayers last night. i didn't feel like i needed anything that desperately (thats not even true), and then rolled over and fell asleep. At institute, we had a discussion about prayer and why we often pray insincerely, or incompletely (sounds like i needed this lesson!) i think i do it because i'm human. Human in the way that i will inevitably make mistakes, but also human in the way that God is so much greater than I am, and that sense of insecurity or inadequacy makes me give up. I do that, i get so overwhelmed i freeze and give up.  The teacher in class responded, well how do you get over that?

I am not nothing, I am lucky. I am not unimportant. I am that detail, that tiny intricacy, in the design of life in the whole universe that God loves! He's like my dad, calling me on his way home from work. We don't have to say a lot necessarily, he just wants to hear my voice, check in. How was your day? What was crappy? What was awesome? He wants to know what's important to me. I usually never ask my dad for anything. Its not that kind of conversation.