This season of life is controlled chaos. In a matter of twelve months I will have spent time in Illinois, Wisconsin, Texas, Minnesota and Ethiopia. I have taken the liberty of titling this chapter: life from a suitcase.
If it has taught me anything about myself, it’s that:
I love arriving, but I hate leaving.
I find joy in looking forward. I like for things to change and shift; I thrive in the new and different. This has worked to my benefit as I've kept pace with a number of opportunities.
I can become almost obsessive with what's next, however. I was recently telling a friend that being an RA means I am obligated to return in the fall. And then I laughed. I love it here, I seriously do. For the first time in a while I feel as though I really belong. But I wouldn't put it past my adventure-craving self to want something new: which I do realize would be incredibly irresponsible and irrational. I share this just to admit how deeply unsettled I tend to be.
This itch to continually start new seasons in my life, however, doesn't exist without irony. I have a really hard time leaving. Once I'm "there", I'm off and running. The transition period itself, on the other hand, is my weak point. I'm not so good at 'goodbye'. Honestly, it's not such a big deal or problem in and of itself. But this semester, I've realized it's deeper than my circumstances. It's a condition of my heart.
There are circumstances, dreams, thoughts, attitudes and relationships of my life that are changing and being made new. This is what I want[ed], hope[d] and pray[ed] for. Yet here I am, throwing a fit in the transition; because leaving the old is hard, uncomfortable and scary.
I am learning what it looks like to live out Philippians 2:13, "For it is God who is at work in you, both to will and to work for His good pleasure".
Another translation reads: "For God is working in you, giving you the desire and the power to do what pleases Him".
Take heart, take hope.
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