christianity · God · Jesus · Writer

temporary

I always thought I’d be a writer.

Actually that’s not true. But in the past few years, yeah, I thought I’d be a writer.

Or maybe a missionary.

Or a singer.

Or a banjoist.

Something.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about dreams and then I read my friend’s post about dreams, and it added a little encouragement on top of my discouragement with being home. Yes, friends, I graduated and moved home with my parents.

Hooray, I got a job working at a daycare and I’m so excited to play with nugs every day at work. But this is the first summer in a long time that I am not traveling and doing something exciting. By something exciting, I mean getting out of my hometown. I always thought I’d bolt to New York City the second I graduated. Then I got really confused and also want to move to Italy. I also want to move to Nashville and play music.

I always thought. Here I am in my tiny little town thinking about how much I want to get out. This was not the plan. The plan was not to have crippling anxiety scare me out of moving across the world. The plan was not to ~fall in love~ and dread the day we went long distance again. The plan was not to see my family aging and hesitate packing my bags. The plan was not to be rejected from every job I applied for hehe.

Nope. I had it all timed perfectly. And I forgot about God again. Funny how this always happens, huh?

I’m jealous of my friends moving to other countries, but now I see it’s because God put them there. Literally. As missionaries. They were placed and the timing was set by God, not by themselves. That’s actually all I’m going to list because this isn’t a listicle about what I covet.

No, this is a realization that faith is hard and it’s a lot easier to trust in yourself and your own plans for fulfillment and happiness. It’s a lot easier to schedule things than it is to wait for God to tell you when to go. It’s a lot easier to say, “I don’t fit in here,” and move to another place than it is to stay and learn to love this town and people. But easy isn’t always the best way.

So here’s to the summer. Here’s to a summer of learning to be patient. Here’s to a summer of learning to be content with regardless of circumstances. Here’s to a summer of learning to love the crowd I grew up with and grew apart from. Here’s to a summer of setting goals but being okay if they don’t happen. Here’s to biblical truth and prayer and joy, and learning how to fill out tax forms while I still live with my mom.

 

 

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