Monday, August 3, 2009

At rest...



"Matter and thought are a canvas on which God paints, a painting with tragedy and delivery, with sin and redemption. Life is a dance toward God, I begin to think. And the dance is not so graceful as we might want. While we glide and swing our practiced sway, God crowds our feet, bumps our toes, scuffs our shoes. So we learn to dance with the One who made us. And it is a difficult dance to learn, because its steps are so foreign…”


Twenty-one days were spent with challenges, stumbling with regaining a language of which, once my studies were completely devoted. Twenty-one days were spent feeling every emotion feasible for one to feel. Tears were shed, thoughts were shared, hope was seen, love was evident, beauty was found in the realization that perfection will never be reached, yet it still is altogether worth the mere attempts at speaking a language so foreign and at times seems too far to grasp. Here I am, having returned and found that peace was lacking in the plans I had so delicately made. Mirroring the times before in which everything was placed and fixed in my eyes only to then see it all fall apart, falling together into something beautiful penned by a Father out of His unfailing love. And I am shaken and left awestruck because it is all unknown to me, but I am certain God is at work and He is here and of this, He has given me the eyes to see.

It will all come in His timing, and for this time-being I will wait. Cause four years before I had everything fitting together perfectly, certain that God wouldn’t separate me from me from my best friend, and a week before left to find out that it wasn’t my time--that He had something altogether differently in mind- a liberal arts Catholic college for two years, seven hundred people all unknown to me, and then traveling eight hours away for the remainder of college with knowing no one as well. Four years before that, heart full of intentions to attempt public school alongside a dear friend, only to find that a small private high school was where God would take me that very same week. All this rambling may be seen to accomplish nothing in the eyes of a reader, perhaps will only be understandable in my own eyes. Yet, as I set out to write these words I think I was searching for comfort--it was almost as if I was glancing about me to see that it was to all be alright, that everything would be okay. God has helped me find that this week and even in this moment; I know it is going to be alright. I know that He has a plan to prosper me and not to harm me, to give me a hope and a future. I know that my time will come. “The wheels just keep on turning, the drummer begins to drum, I don’t know which way I am going, I don’t know which way I have come… hold my hand inside your hands, I need someone who understands…I need someone, someone who hears, for you I have waited all these years..” That is what my heart feels when I think about my Maker, My Beautiful Savior. He knows where I am going, and He sees where I have come from---He understands and yes, my Father, He hears.

So my future rests in uncertainty, all the while I am resting in His plan which for the moment is out of my reach and out of my sight. Yet, I will keep resting here in this waiting state…for my time will come when my dream will be within my grasp, when I will be able to settle among the dear, precious children--without having to look to the past, when speaking in a foreign language will come with a little less struggle, when I will finally reside where my heart has been for years...

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