I’m back at it…my habit of jotting things down on scattered scraps of paper instead of trying to gather them in one place. Maybe it’s a reflection of my life these days. As the “big day”–May 31st, the end of my husband’s employment in a place where he has worked for what will be just short of 24 years–draws nearer, I feel a bit fragmented. There is the now, which keeps coming at me, one day at a time as the minutes tick by and the calendar pages turn (actually, my calendar pages turn a month at a time, but just humor me here and picture one of those one-day-at-a-time calendars that so successfully mark the passage of time in the transition frames of the old movies). The now is made up of comfortable routines punctuated by the unexpected events and requests that keep life interesting and produce growth. There is even the occasional crisis thrown into the now, but the aforementioned growth seems to prepare me for each one to the degree that I can hang on hard enough to look Up for what is needed to deal with the balance.
Then, there is the future. It is, in a word, uncertain. I almost laugh to type that last statement, because, in reality, isn’t anything “future”, anything beyond this very second, uncertain? I could drop dead of a heart attack before I finish typing this sentence. (…you don’t need to hold your breath any longer; it didn’t happen.) You have thought of all the possibilities, too–I know you have–so I won’t go on and list the other curves that life could throw me–or you–at any second. But the uncertainty I’m talking about, the uncertainty that nags, is the one that has a huge element of that which is totally out of my control. I had no say in the fact that the governing board of my husband’s university workplace decided to close the campus. I can encourage, suggest, and offer my opinions but, ultimately, I am not the one who decides which jobs Michael applies for. And most certainly, I have no power when it comes to whose eyes will see and be attracted to his applications or resume. So, in all of that, there is uncertainty…and it pulls to the degree that that fragmentation of the smoothness of my linear life occurs. (I am a very linear operator–juggling disparate portions of life is something at which I am not very skillful.)
So, what does any of that baring of my soul have to do with jotting things on scattered scraps? There is a phrase that I keep writing down in different places and rolling around in my brain, because I don’t want to forget it: “…journey well.” That is what my friend Carol prayed when several faculty wives whose husbands are impacted by the campus closing got together to pray a couple of weeks ago. She asked God to help us “journey well.” I want to take time to explore that from some different angles in posts to come.
One thing that pushed right to the front of my brain this morning as I mulled the phrase over in my mind is this: “Thy Word is lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path.” (Psalm 119:105) I may not have power to orchestrate what happens along the uncertain path of the future, but I can pick up the lamp and let it show me where to put my foot down for the next step. The journey is made of multiple such moves. “In Thy light, we see light,” said the Psalmist. That, for certain–having light enough so as not to stumble or trip, and, additionally, letting my eyes take in what is around me on the trip–is one part of journeying well. And that light is readily available, so I can walk with confidence, even though I don’t know what is around the bend.
I think it’s harder when you know so much in advance. You have more time to stew, to consider what negative outcomes might come about. But as you so beautifully point out here, it also gives you more time to meditate, to question, to converse with God, to test and sharpen your faith. The journey has lot of hills and valleys. Journey well!
Thanks, Jim…your e-book has been immensely helpful.
Amy,
As I was reading your entry, I was imagining a car’s headlights in the fog . YOu can only see what’s right in front of you. But if you drive to quickly or you are not paying attention, you might miss a red light or your next turn. If I am careful, deliberate, and following the light in the fogthat’s right in front of me, then I will make it through. God’s light will be enough for me.
Somtimes I want God to just lighten the path before me so I can see what is ahead for Drew and his transition to kindergarten next year. But if I do that, then I miss what God is teaching me along the way. I am not trusting in the promised provisions He has for me and Drew. I’m not letting God’s light or His word guide my path anymore.
I’m not sure if this even makes any sense…this is from one tired momma who should really be in bed. Anyway, thanks for giving me something else to chew on and talk to God about as I drift off to sleep!
Dear Friend Becky, Thank YOU for taking time at the end of a long day to think out aloud and give ME some more ways to think about this. I am humbled. I hope you sleep well!
Amy,
A couple of years ago, I very clearly heard God say “wait and trust.” I thought I knew what He was talking about but quickly discovered that I was wrong. The waiting and trusting took on new meaning. I found myself having to repeat those words many times when I would get anxious and begin to question the future. Knowing that they came from my Father gave me peace. I heard His voice each time I repeated them
Your words “walk with confidence” are similar. They remind me that my (our) confidence isn’t in this world or anything that it has to offer but in the Father, who knows every one of our days, even before one came to be.
Our hearts and prayers continue with you and all of the others who are on this journey.
wow … I always enjoy reading others responses to your entries. We are much in the same place, but yet you have a much better way of expressing yourself. I know that God is directing day by day. It is very hard to sit back and wait on my husband to make decisions known to me. God is directing.
The message yesterday morning focus on the value of the journey. Paul experienced tough places and even talked of despairing of life itself (II Corinthians 1:8). In John 12:27 Jesus said, “now my heart is troubled, and what shall I say? Father, save me from this hour? No,…” It is the journey that faith is both formed and revealed. Hebrews 5 tells us that Jesus “learned obedience” through the things he suffered. None of us like the uncertainities but it is here that we rely most on the Lord and find peace in the only One who is certain. I am confident you will journey well.
Nancy…”Knowing that they came from my Father gave me peace”…Thanks for the reminder to listen for my Father’s voice when peace is needed.
Diane…Keeping your situation and needs in our prayers.
Tom…Thanks for the reminder of the Hebrews words. I have often drawn strength and encouragement from them–if it’s good enough for Jesus, it’s good enough for me!