50 inches tall or 50 inches wide?

So today was not a smooth day: meaning most of today's events were bumps and caused uncomfortable jolting. I will not bore you with all the events like the quiz in classics, the overflowing toilet, the inkless computer lab, or my graceful fall going up the Bate stairs. No, I instead I have chosen to inform you of the highlight: the search for the lab coat.

I am two credits away from being a biology minor. This is coming from a vessel that avoided science at all costs starting in elementary school; all I can say is God is good. This semester I was forced to take Microbiology the lecture and Microbiology the lab. 

I get this email: "Biology 2111 [microbiology lab] students come to Tuesday's lab prepared, wearing long sleeved shirts, close toed shoes, pants and a lab coat. The lab coat must come below the knee. Students who come unprepared will not be admitted into the lab."

As I delete the email I am thinking, no problem, I have long sleeved shirts, pants, and closed toed shoes: all I needed was the lab coat. The search began this afternoon, after all of the bumpy events like the toilet and inkless computer lab. I started out at the student store. The place was packed with smelly students. I had to fight my way to an employee to ask where the lab coats were. I followed the young man to the art department. 

"Here are our coats.. there aren't many left." he said with a drawl. "We only have one size left for you.. it says 50.. but I'm not sure whether it is 50 inches tall or 50 inches wide." 

I tried to control the contortion of my face. I looked for it, but there was no hint of humor in his face. Really? I thought to myself. Do I look 50 inches wide? Please explain to me, do I look 50 inches tall. The coat was huge. It looked like it needed two coat hangers to support the weight of the fabric. 

So the search continued. I called uniform shops around town. Most were out of smalls in lab coats. Everyone was picked clean. Finally I reached a store that wouldn't guarantee me a size, but offered a little hope. I got in my Echo and sped (acchem drove with gumption) to the store. 

Did I mention today was the first day of school for Pitt County? Let it be known today was the first day, and that all of Pitt County children are required to have uniforms. Let me just say this store was hopping. I pushed my way through to a rack of thousands of white lab coats. Half the store was made of these coats, or so it appeared. 90% of the thousand white lab coats were above the knee, and only .7% of the remaining 10% were in a size I could get by with. 

After spending forever trying on coats and eyeballing what other ECU microbiology lab girls were returning to the racks, I finally found one. Of course when I got to the checkout counter the debit machine broke, but eventually I did get out of the store with lab coat in hand.

Pointless story yes. BUT I did get the lab coat, and it wasn't 50 inches wide either. 

So frustrating.

My relationship with my Father has progressed very steadily. Yet I now find myself in a place of frustration.

I want to write a song.

One must understand how my soul thirsts to write. I want to write how I feel but simply writing is not enough; I want to sing how I feel. I want the words to be my own, I desire that connection of personal worship. The connection I feel when the words fall out of my mouth revealing the condition of my heart.

The connection is lost, and I am frustrated. How can this be restored? How can I be so close and not be able to write about where I am? None of this is making any sense to me. Is my song writing chapter over? Has He taken the gift away? And if He has, why do I have this aching?

I have never been one to sit down and say, "Now I will write a song". No, the words have always been given to me. Over the last few weeks the words that have been given don't make any sense.
For an example this morning I wrote this:

I'm reaching for something, longing for it to be real.
While searching for the answers, my soul longs to hear.
I come up empty, grasping at nothingness.
And my heart beat echoes hollowly, hollowly, against my now empty chest.

These verses are out of character for me. I cannot figure out what God is trying to say, or if He is trying to say anything at all!? I am frustrated to the point of being hurt. I just don't understand what He wants. I just want Him to fix me, to break me, rebuild me...do something and let me sing about it!

Out of all honesty it makes me angry. Yes, I am admitting I am angry at God. How can He give me a desire and then refuse to fulfill it. I am sure it is all part of His master plan, but right now I am stomping my feet and saying it isn't fair. Maturity will come I am sure... maybe tomorrow.

"Do not cast me from you presence or take your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me." Psalm 50:11,12