Not even this...

They can be moments; they can be seasons; they can seem like lifetimes. They are the seconds, the minutes, the hours, that we spend wishing away. They are most likely difficult, uncomfortable, or seem empty. They may be wished away because of what we convince ourselves is "hope" for better in the future... then things will be really good. In those places, we don't want now - we want then. Sometimes "then" is past, and other times it is future. Now becomes nothing more than the product of the past and the means to the future... and that future -if we let ourselves - we will spend wishing away too.

My lesson on this front came in the middle of the night shift. Now, if you are a shift worker, or a parent, or a myriad of other vocations that leave you unwillingly sleep deprived, you will understand what I mean by exhaustion. Your body begs you to sleep; your mind concurs; your everything is weak. And it was in the middle of a night shift, coming into anticipated days off, that I heard God speak to me about time. "Not even this..." He said... "not even this should you wish away." Don't wish for a faster passing of time to get to your bed. Don't wish even this long, dreary, and difficult time away.

That early morning He gave me the gift of being able to see the temporal things around me, that I need to cherish in that moment; place of life stuff. You can insert your own blessings here, but mine included: nieces young; family in good health; a body that is still good to me; good friends in close proximity; little heartache. So many blessings; so much to be thankful for. All things that will be lost eventually in the passing of time. All seasons that will pass away someday. All things that I need to treasure more. That is what now is for.

Love it more

I'm back in school these days... settling back into routine... sleeping regular hours again... getting ready for another bout into what, once again, feels like my "new" life (though it's already been 9 months). I started this post months ago, back in July, when my new life was much like my old life in some ways. Working back at my old job in dispatch for the summer was the same. Commuting was different. It was a time in my life when I was thinking a lot about the things I love to do; the things that remind me who I am... and thinking about how my life was too busy & I was too tired to be involved in them. That stage of life did not cater to hiking trips and leisurely summer days. The stage I'm in now does not contribute well to experiencing the world outside of this city. And though I have a few WONDERFUL friends here, my life isn't as socially connected with games nights, a group, a sense of social belonging as it once was... long long ago now it seems.

It was in the midst of the mourning and the wishing that I understood... whatever remains, I must love more. What are the remnants in this city life; this student's budget; this place in life... what that I love is still alive in this place? I can't replace anything; not the mountains, not the laughter in the games nights, not the vulnerability of our Bible study group, not the long summer nights on the dock with the silence and the stars, not the deep friendships nor opportunities He has afforded me in different places of the world. I am here now. And with every shred of my being I need to love it more... and love it now.

As I write this, I am so sure of the fact that I am known... God has not forgotten me. He knows what delights me; He remembers what makes my heart rejoice, even when I am unsure or have forgotten. Those things I will discover in this place, or whatever place He takes me to in the months and years ahead. This post is not to sound forlorn... but an encouragement that wherever we are there is more than enough: to delight your heart; to make your soul rejoice; to give you new eyes in the same circumstances. The Lord your God is with you wherever you go... or wherever you stay.

Hypothetically...

 Hypothetically speaking... has anyone ever had their armpit(s) froth after a run (or other sweaty activity)?  I am (hypothetically) suspecting that the shirt I was (hypothetically) wearing didn't have all the soap washed out of it.  Just wondering if, (hypothetically), this has ever happened to anyone else?  Frothy armpit(s) on a run, anyone?