I want to simplify my life.
I want to get rid of some of my crap and start from scratch.
Maybe I'll reconsider what I want to be when I grow up. I've been joking about having a quarter life crisis but so far it seems like a remarkably accurate assessment of the current situation.
I'm moving out of my apartment and in with a family from church. They're taking me in when I'm the least likely to contribute anything and the most likely to just mooch off of them (which ironically motivates me to help however I can--isn't that the effect grace should have on us?). But, the point is, I'm getting a chance to get rid of some of the stuff I've accumulated over the years and start over with the things I really need. I have a feeling it will be evident which things aren't necessary over the next few months, since I'm moving from a pretty large living space to a much smaller yet more cozy and comfortable space. There's something about having a whole family down the hall that creates a sense of security that just doesn't exist when you're living on your own.
My life doesn't look like I thought it would. Has it ever? You'd think I'd get the picture after 26 years of thinking it will turn out a certain way, only to be surprised each time with God's plan being different (and better) than mine. After a while, logic says I should probably stop setting so many expectations for myself and just trust that God is using me in his kingdom the way that only he knows is best.
I'm moving back in with family at the age of 26, I've spent all of my savings on doctor's appointments and medicine and food, I've slept through a large portion of the past 3 months, I've taken lots of time off work, and I'm still confused. That feels like failure. The endless refrain that runs through my head says, "why can't you do life like everyone else? Everyone has a hard time, but they can keep going. Why can't you? You're basically worthless." It's sad that the voice spouting those lies is often louder than the whisper that says, "you are worth it. you are loved. you are precious in my sight and I have great plans for you." I'm glad the whisper, though quieter sometimes, is far more consistent and infinitely stronger than the lies.
God wants me to slow down. Simplify. He wants me to calm down and stop trying to figure everything out. Maybe it would be ok to just sit still every once in a while and stop thinking.
I was talking to a friend today, wondering if she had figured out the secret to life making sense. She said, "I think I've come to a place where I've realized that all the wisdom comes from the Lord and that it doesn't have to make sense to me." It doesn't have to make sense. What would it look like for me to be ok with life not making sense?
He changes times and seasons;
he sets up kings and deposes them.
He gives wisdom to the wise
and knowledge to the discerning.
He reveals deep and hidden things;
he knows what lies in darkness,
and light dwells with him.
He's in charge of the seasons. Both the weather kind and the life kind. He knows what is in the darkness. He is light. I don't think it's a coincidence that to shed light on something often means to cause something to make sense. Right now, life feels hidden and dark. Answers seem to materialize one second and vaporize the next. But God is wisdom and in James, He promises to give us wisdom when we ask. The light I long for dwells with him.