Gift of Time

Being uncertain of how long my stay in the 'Boro will actually be, my Mom and I were fairly meticulous when it came to labeling all the boxes we were packing. We used different colored markers for different things and were pretty specific. The boxes, bins, and luggage are now scattered around the house, strategically placed, so I can hopefully remember where things are when I am looking for them. (Today for example, warmer shoes!)

A couple days ago I cracked open the box labeled "books I haven't read/knitting." As my dear Sara carried this box to the ReloCube on loading day, she read the label and commented, "sounds like a good summer!" Well, I've opened it to read some of the books I wanted to read in seminary, but didn't because they weren't required of me. By the time I got finished reading what was required of me, the last thing I wanted to do was read some more. All this to say I cracked open the box and chose "Traveling Light" by Max Lucado. He's one of my favorites and someone I haven't read since before seminary. I thought by light the title meant light from the sun or a lamp, but actually it means light as in the opposite of heavy. Traveling lite. It's a book reflecting on Psalm 23. I breezed through several chapters on the first day of reading and had a small epiphany as I reached the chapters on 'He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul.'

(little light bulb above my head) This time of waiting I'm in is a gift, not a punishment.

That may seem obvious to you, but the waiting is hard. It's hard to be simultaneously excited for and jealous of all those other grads whose futures are certain. It's hard not to think there's something wrong with me or I'm not good enough when friends are taking calls all around you and phone interviews don't lead to a job. It's hard to accept that the waiting is not because I've done something wrong. And though the waiting continues to be hard, I've got a new take on it...

Soak it up. Breathe it in. Let the minutes lazily tick away. Do not count the days, but make them count. Sleep all you can. Enjoy the now. As our Savior tells us, do not worry about tomorrow.

So I still wait anxiously for an email or a phone call. I think about that call all the time. Trust me. But I know now I've not been sent here because I was bad, but because I am blessed to have this time, in this place, with these people. I wait because God has seen fit to bring me to these still waters, make me lie down, and allow for the restoration of my soul.