I’m grasping. I’m grasping for something, anything that will bring me some semblance of control and comfort. I think over and over again of the things in my life and the questions for the future, trying to understand them, trying to figure them out. I’m trying to make plans; I’m trying to find stability and security. I’m trying to make living life ambiguously contain some solidarity. My mind swarms with thoughts, confusions, and ideas and my heart becomes more and more tired. When will this end? When I live to see these questions answered, there will be more questions. When I figure out the mess before me, there will be another mess. What am I missing? What am I not doing? The answer lies in what I AM doing – I am trying to figure things out. Why? Because I want to be comfortable, because I want stability, because I am unsure and uncertain and that scares me. Life is no longer cut up into semesters with a Christmas and summer break in between. I no longer “rest” during the designated spring and fall break. My daily activities are no longer bound by syllabi. And my success or failure in the eyes of my superiors is no longer measured by a letter or number. Life, as I’ve known it, is different. I no longer live with friends of my own choosing, I no longer get discounts at Chick-fil-a, and for that matter I no longer have a Chick-fil-a nearby. The closest Panera Bread about sixteen miles away and I haven’t been to a Wawa since I don’t know when. Life has changed.
I want to find a balance. I want to know how I can manage time to make money, time to raise money, time to build relationships, time to invest in church, time to invest in my family, time to maintain long-distance relationships, and time for myself – and also time with God. I want to know with certainty that I will move out of my parent’s home on THIS date and be at 100% support during THIS month and all that will go along with it. I then forget the huge implications that go along with reaching 100% and moving away – another huge life change. So here I am working for this “goal” and not enjoying where I am right now at the life stage that I’m in. I’m transitioning. I’m trying to get my feet on a ground that keeps knocking me down by all its shaking and changing. I’m trying to stand up and walk on a surface that my feet can’t even stay flat on. But if I just sit here, I’m not going to get anywhere.
Once I realize that by all my thinking and planning and daydreaming what I’m really doing is trying to manage my life on my own without God, I feel horrible and guilty. I apologize, and I mean it to a certain point, but then I ask him HOW? How am I supposed to do this? How am I supposed to live? “By trusting Me, daughter.” I’m scared to trust. Why should I be scared to trust?! Has God ever given me anything less than exactly what I need? I’m amazed by His provision every time and then two weeks later (if it takes that long), I’m back to trying to figure out life for myself again. And if, hypothetically, I did not try and control and think about and figure out my future, what would I think about? “You would think on Me and you would live in the moment.” I would think about what love looks like and how I can love like Jesus in every relationship. I could reflect on God’s grace even in the little things like the daily tides in the bay or the sunshine all weekend. I would enjoy where I am in every moment because I am trusting God for the life that lies before me. This sounds like a really good idea, but why is it so hard?
This thinking leads to be feeling guilty about trying to control everything and then I try even harder to be “in the moment.” But you know what I realized today? That by trying to live in the moment, I’m not letting myself BE because I’m not simply acknowledging that hey, I’m struggling with this and I can’t do it alone. I’m trying too hard to understand things and not sitting back and just LIVING – because living seems too scary. So hey, I’m trying too hard. I’m thinking too much. I’m trying to bring myself comfort rather than relying on God to be my Comfort, my Shelter, my Rock, and my Provider. I’m human and I’m at God’s mercy and grace.