Sunday, December 26, 2010

Looking ahead to the 16+ hour drive back to school this year, it crossed my mind that if it were possible to teleport my car there, I would. It's all gorgeous mountain driving, and I really don't mind the view. It's not like the prairies where if it were legal to set your cruise, an alarm and fall asleep at the wheel, you could. (corn, corn, soy, corn corn, corn, COWS, corn, corn, corn...)  I tried to figure out the heart behind my desire to get out of the drive. Is it laziness? Fear? What it boils down to is really frustration that the world doesn't revolve around me, but that's another story. There's impatience in my heart, not content to trust that God's timing (the 16+ hours it will take my car to get there) is what is required of me. So many places in my life I find the same impatience, always wanting to be at the next stage of my life without living the one I'm in. Just wanting to be back to school. Just wanting to be done with my degree. Just wanting to be serving somewhere else, better than where I am. Just wanting to be married. The list goes on. But there's a reason that between point A (where I am) and point B (where I will be), there's a road to travel. This road, these experiences, produce perseverance. This road is a gift that I need to steward well. So I'm praying that God continues to soften my selfish heart, and remind me of his faithfulness. He  will complete what he has begun.


Today, there was a particularly glorious sunrise. Something I've recently discovered is that as a result of being a nanny and not having to filter my eccentricity for nine months, I sing much more. Because my mind works by association, words remind me of other words, but more often, a word or phrase reminds me of a song. The fact that I've had this stuck in my head all day is a prime example.

Sunday, December 12, 2010

Smooth and cold
scattered on the sand
begging to be thrown 
or taken home.
Your brothers and sisters
brighten the shore, 
glimmering in the evening light;
a family at peace. 

(written long ago when someone dared me to write a poem about a rock)