The sun rises through the thick, humid air smothering Alabama. Roads emptied of travelers, highway 280 calm for a few brief hours. The light sneaks around the horizon & tiptoes across the backyard. Leaves flash their spectrum of greens as they sway to the rhythm of the passing breeze. The stillness of late-morning sleepers declares it’s a Saturday. He slips between window & curtain in an exuberant burst of brightness, crawls across the covers, & gently strokes my face. Wake up. It’s time to move again.
My life is a story of metamorphosis. Constant change of people & place. I live in 3-4 month seasons with small periods of transit between each. Fall semester (3 weeks at home). 3 months in Uganda (1 week in South Sudan). 2 months in Spain (2 days of travel). 3 months in Birmingham (1 week of packing). And now another fall semester.
The past 3 months were as jam packed as a filing cabinet with lessons on re-entry, working 2 jobs, videography, biking, kayaking, climbing, holy listening, bearing burdens, & resting amidst chaos. Several times, I told God I had had enough & put my shoulder to that cabinet & tried to shove the drawer close. But we’re never done learning.
Over the past 8 months, I’ve realized I have so much more to stuff into that filing cabinet. I tell people that I learned what I need to learn through my experiences in Uganda. I saw the vast chasm of ignorance & realized I needed a longer pole to vault it. God has graciously provided the means to meet the end through the next 2(ish) years of school.
It’s amazing how I don’t fear risking safety, health, loneliness, & my graduation date to fly across deep sea & dry, dusty land to a tiny district on the border of Uganda & Congo, but when faced with the challenge of 2 years in one location, I balk at the idea of mundane.
It’s a trust issue. A root of sin deep within me that disguises itself as “organizing,” “planning,” & “being prepared.” Really, each time I look ahead 3 months to pencil in details of my next trip, I am reassuring myself that I am holding the reins & still in control of my life. Ha! Who do I think I am?
But it never fails, as the days of transit drag their feet, I become more anxious, more fearful, more weak. I find all the negatives of returning to school & slowly seep further into a spirit of depression.
Depression. Dependency. A tug of war at my heart. How do I win?
With gratitude. I force myself to take a deep breath, clear the soul, then apply the power of gratefulness with pen & paper as I list my blessings.
Education. Friends. A constant gospel whisper. Bike. Camera. Laughter. Beauty. Waterfalls. Wooded runs. Encouragement in blogs. Reminders of the bigger picture. Good books. Challenges. Adventures. Hope. Truth.
A consistent, ever present, never altering Love that carries me on His wings.
The rope favors the other side, & I fall back from the mighty pull of thanksgiving, back into trust, dependency, the Filling of my deep desires to be desired, cared for, loved by Him. My focus shifts from self to Himself & peace persuades my heart to rest.
I lay in bed with the Son’s arms wrapped around me in morning’s pure light, accepting life’s constant change of seasons. I can live in transit because He knows my needs, He’s planned my path, & He knows this Hart’s desires. I throw my legs over the side of my bed & my feet touch the floor. The first steps of a new adventure.
But first I need some coffee.
Stay tuned. 🙂