I'll be honest, I'm simply exhausted. I loathe that I wake up so many Monday mornings apprehensive of the day ahead or of the news I'll receive in the briefing room at work. I hate questioning my ability to work for an agency that I've grown to love or ever truly understanding my future career path.
...Whew, now that that's off my chest...
What's worse is I can't find a way to make myself figure out what I'm meant to be striving toward in the long run.
...Oh, no, worse is that I know what I should be doing RIGHT NOW and that I've been shifting that responsibility away from myself.
I know I should be working with diligence, praying even harder than I work and asking for direction as I go about life. But I'm oh-so-terrible at that.
I once believed I had a plan, I had a set path, and then not-so-unlike other moments it seems a supernatural force interrupted my certainty and pushed me into the void of ambiguity. If His purpose was to push me into trusting that force, well, unfortunately my ability to trust disappeared when I couldn't seem to know myself. Apparently that's all I've been counting on.
I frequently thrust myself into frantic questioning and research, only to realize I still lack direction.
Chris will ask me here if I've prayed for it, and no I haven't. I'm still a little p-o'd that it's gone.
I guess I had to get that off my chest too.
Our apartment is cluttered with his school-books and theology texts, and I'm honestly a little jealous. I love to study but no longer have the faintest idea what it is I should be studying. I have grand visions for what our future will be years down the road but no idea where to begin.
Hmph. Well I suppose this is my beginning. I guess eventually I'll need to quit my grumbling and get to that prayer part.
Meanwhile, as I get all of this griping out of my system, you can pray too.
Monday, September 15, 2014
Thursday, May 8, 2014
The Shifting Shadows of Stars Long Gone
I'm listening to some worship song I added a year ago to my worship playlist, whilst sitting in a little office that I now feel far removed from. Now there is an engagement ring on my left hand and I'm fifteen days from marrying the man who once worked across the room from where I sat.
A year ago today, ironically the day I agreed to the relationship, I wouldn't have predicted this. I couldn't be more ready for that now, but I also couldn't feel more worn from the change.
Since then I've moved churches twice, graduated college, started a master's program and quit, started two new jobs and an internship, one full-time, and have been released from all of them. I've been in a dating relationship and an engagement and now planned a wedding. All the while I've remained living in the same apartment and projected living with and doing ministry for two different organizations, neither of which have come to pass in the Lord's plan.
I'm now fifteen days out from living in a new place with a permanent new roommate, without any accurate picture of what our income will be in the next month.
So, am I excited? Yes. I'm also a little bit terrified. And I feel kind of lost.
It should be mentioned that all the while I've remained in the same hand of the same God who I've been in relationship with for the last fifteen years of my life, "with whom there is no shadow due to change" (James 1:17). Surely if my emotions reflected this absolute truth, while all else is shifting reality, I should feel anchored.
Well I've moved my little faux anchor, if you will, around a few times now, and let me tell you, I've worn myself out from expending all that useless energy. I'm completely exhausted from casting and projecting visions of the future only to see them quickly fall away to something not yet seen. I'm tired of grieving the dust of stars who were never truly in the sky, only their shifting shadows from where I looked up on my little ship's deck.
Somebody else is steering, and I no longer count myself understanding enough to write the conclusion to this journey.
A year ago today, ironically the day I agreed to the relationship, I wouldn't have predicted this. I couldn't be more ready for that now, but I also couldn't feel more worn from the change.
Since then I've moved churches twice, graduated college, started a master's program and quit, started two new jobs and an internship, one full-time, and have been released from all of them. I've been in a dating relationship and an engagement and now planned a wedding. All the while I've remained living in the same apartment and projected living with and doing ministry for two different organizations, neither of which have come to pass in the Lord's plan.
I'm now fifteen days out from living in a new place with a permanent new roommate, without any accurate picture of what our income will be in the next month.
So, am I excited? Yes. I'm also a little bit terrified. And I feel kind of lost.
It should be mentioned that all the while I've remained in the same hand of the same God who I've been in relationship with for the last fifteen years of my life, "with whom there is no shadow due to change" (James 1:17). Surely if my emotions reflected this absolute truth, while all else is shifting reality, I should feel anchored.
Well I've moved my little faux anchor, if you will, around a few times now, and let me tell you, I've worn myself out from expending all that useless energy. I'm completely exhausted from casting and projecting visions of the future only to see them quickly fall away to something not yet seen. I'm tired of grieving the dust of stars who were never truly in the sky, only their shifting shadows from where I looked up on my little ship's deck.
Somebody else is steering, and I no longer count myself understanding enough to write the conclusion to this journey.
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
Rain Sprinklings, Prayer Inklings and Light Thoughts on Lent.
My car engine hummed, but I waited. Pensively I lifted my phone and resorted to Facebook to distract me from some irksome sense of dissatisfaction. Never a good idea; as if Facebook ever made anyone feel more satisfied with their lives.
At the top of my feed, I read that a friend had gotten a new job. A really GOOD new job. Surprise! Facebook did not make me happier. The unsettledness inside of me escalated.
What am I doing with my life?
Ever have those moments? I sure hope I'm not the only one...
My car was unhappy too, and she didn't seem to feel like waiting on me to figure out my whole life's direction before taking me home on this cold night. The engine began to sputter. I panicked, thought of calling Chris, but then felt an urgency to at least try to reverse and move out into the parking lot. She continued to sputter, but I backed out, and once I had the space cleared before me I drove ahead, revving her up.
I felt a little like that car in that moment. I felt like someone sitting and waiting for things to begin, but waiting a little too long before moving forward.
I couldn't hear my Daddy anymore either. The car, the Facebook post, and warning signs in the sky of coming rain all seemed to tell me I needed to move somehow. I needed to go find God again. I had been sitting complacently and cozily, parked in one place, missing Him completely.
As I drove, I'm not sure if I prayed more for a safe drive home, or for God to tell me what on earth I needed to be doing. It was probably some odd combination of the both of these in an awakening beggar's prayer.
I have known days where I was so lonely it hurt, and Christ was my only comfort. There were times when I didn't know how I would make it from one day to the next, and despite all my worry, God blessed me time and time again with just what I needed, and still joys beyond this.
Yet, I know Him to do this in spite of me. Too often I have had one need filled, thanked him silently, and then moved forward independent of Him. Oh, I counted myself lucky, but had I secretly been crediting it all to myself?
However, the idea that I should only seek the Lord when I have unmet, physical needs seems absurd. Surely we are always commanded to pursue God, no matter where we are.
I was stagnant, just like my little car. Rain drops gently began to drift over her. Perhaps it was a way to cause me to more carefully examine speeding limits and the highway. I prayed.
I remember years past asking the Lord for a way to draw me nearer to Him when my need had grown too great to be handled by anyone but Him any longer; the next day, I knew I was supposed to train to run a half-marathon. My entire training was devoted to Him in prayer, utterly dependent as I roamed the same running tracks alone, night after night.
In the Old Testament, He granted His people a way to draw nearer, to remember their need and turn to Him, year after year, through His law, before their Savior--their relief--appeared.
I committed to trusting that He would, in all His faithfulness through the ages, show me how to draw close again if I fervently sought a word from Him. I know I will hear Him and that I will be given a sign.
As I pulled into the parking lot, I knew I would not be given a spot so near my building. They had filled up quickly tonight, and the rain shower continued. I pulled into a spot I knew was just for me. The walk caused me to continue in prayer and thought. How many times had I forgone prayer in taking steps forward in my life?
I lack understanding of my calling; I used to feel so sure, but recently I've begun to question whether these plans were constructed by myself or if I were drawn to them by the Lord. One thing I feel sure I'm called to do is to write, and it's the thing that I've been missing the most.
In my times of need, writing has been a way to draw nearer to God when I could be heard by no one else. Recently, though, I had lost my discipline.
So this evening, I've committed to writing this one piece. This is my admission of need, once more, of loss of direction, uncertainty, and bewilderment. I'm afraid that my prayer for the discomfort needed to seek God out again will be further revealed. If the Lord wills it, though, these writings and pleas on paper will become one medium through which I draw nearer and find my way in Christ again. I'll seek His will if this will be an appropriate Lenten devotion in order to find my way back to His feet in adoration at the foot of the cross.
At the top of my feed, I read that a friend had gotten a new job. A really GOOD new job. Surprise! Facebook did not make me happier. The unsettledness inside of me escalated.
What am I doing with my life?
Ever have those moments? I sure hope I'm not the only one...
My car was unhappy too, and she didn't seem to feel like waiting on me to figure out my whole life's direction before taking me home on this cold night. The engine began to sputter. I panicked, thought of calling Chris, but then felt an urgency to at least try to reverse and move out into the parking lot. She continued to sputter, but I backed out, and once I had the space cleared before me I drove ahead, revving her up.
I felt a little like that car in that moment. I felt like someone sitting and waiting for things to begin, but waiting a little too long before moving forward.
I couldn't hear my Daddy anymore either. The car, the Facebook post, and warning signs in the sky of coming rain all seemed to tell me I needed to move somehow. I needed to go find God again. I had been sitting complacently and cozily, parked in one place, missing Him completely.
As I drove, I'm not sure if I prayed more for a safe drive home, or for God to tell me what on earth I needed to be doing. It was probably some odd combination of the both of these in an awakening beggar's prayer.
I have known days where I was so lonely it hurt, and Christ was my only comfort. There were times when I didn't know how I would make it from one day to the next, and despite all my worry, God blessed me time and time again with just what I needed, and still joys beyond this.
Yet, I know Him to do this in spite of me. Too often I have had one need filled, thanked him silently, and then moved forward independent of Him. Oh, I counted myself lucky, but had I secretly been crediting it all to myself?
However, the idea that I should only seek the Lord when I have unmet, physical needs seems absurd. Surely we are always commanded to pursue God, no matter where we are.
I was stagnant, just like my little car. Rain drops gently began to drift over her. Perhaps it was a way to cause me to more carefully examine speeding limits and the highway. I prayed.
I remember years past asking the Lord for a way to draw me nearer to Him when my need had grown too great to be handled by anyone but Him any longer; the next day, I knew I was supposed to train to run a half-marathon. My entire training was devoted to Him in prayer, utterly dependent as I roamed the same running tracks alone, night after night.
In the Old Testament, He granted His people a way to draw nearer, to remember their need and turn to Him, year after year, through His law, before their Savior--their relief--appeared.
I committed to trusting that He would, in all His faithfulness through the ages, show me how to draw close again if I fervently sought a word from Him. I know I will hear Him and that I will be given a sign.
As I pulled into the parking lot, I knew I would not be given a spot so near my building. They had filled up quickly tonight, and the rain shower continued. I pulled into a spot I knew was just for me. The walk caused me to continue in prayer and thought. How many times had I forgone prayer in taking steps forward in my life?
I lack understanding of my calling; I used to feel so sure, but recently I've begun to question whether these plans were constructed by myself or if I were drawn to them by the Lord. One thing I feel sure I'm called to do is to write, and it's the thing that I've been missing the most.
In my times of need, writing has been a way to draw nearer to God when I could be heard by no one else. Recently, though, I had lost my discipline.
So this evening, I've committed to writing this one piece. This is my admission of need, once more, of loss of direction, uncertainty, and bewilderment. I'm afraid that my prayer for the discomfort needed to seek God out again will be further revealed. If the Lord wills it, though, these writings and pleas on paper will become one medium through which I draw nearer and find my way in Christ again. I'll seek His will if this will be an appropriate Lenten devotion in order to find my way back to His feet in adoration at the foot of the cross.
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