The older I get, the more I’m learning to relax into the process. That every step I run leads to the next mile, every textbook chapter I read further develops me into a better counselor, every breath I breathe strings days, weeks, months, and years together. I’m choosing not to fight what’s in my path but to embrace it for what it is – unplanned, expectant, terrifying, and exciting. I’m letting my type A tendencies morph into type B ones, finding the balance of my evenly split introvert and extrovert personality, and running into the rain instead of out of it. What is there to lose – getting wet? I’d rather dance under the rainbow than miss it entirely.
I realize that some people have the natural tendency to live this way, but it’s taken me a journey to get here. I’m proud of that journey with all its battle scars and victories. We each have our own stories. The less eventful ones have beauty in their consistency, and the riveting ones have grit. They all have equal value and worth, because the reality is that each person walks with his or her hurt and healing. We can’t help but to be impacted by this world in all of its sin and glory.
Not knowing my future used to give me anxiety, but now I find myself embracing it with a big hug. What I do know is that I am held safely in the arms of my savior. Jesus is quite enough for me, and that future is all I need to know to rest content. I’ve learned that God doesn’t make rules just to punish us if we break them – he’s a good, good father who sets boundaries because he doesn’t want to see us get hurt. God isn’t distant, but he is closest in those moments that we can’t sense him. Prayers that are spoken in the dead of night don’t get swallowed up in the darkness, but God holds them in his very hands. The more I read the Bible, sing another worship song, whisper a prayer, the more I am in awe of the all-consuming love of our Savior.
My soul craves the contemplative silence of being alone with God, the moments where I am outside and it is just me and him. Where the fiery chaos inside of my heart dares not to be quenched unless I steal away for times like these. I have to quiet my own fire and ask God to light his in my heart, a slow burning strong fire that burns through dark of night and shines bright light of day. The kind of fire that stays strong in windy storms and gives life to the victories. That’s the kind of Christ-like power I want in my life.