I laid in bed for an hour this afternoon. George Winston was on shuffle and in my mind, I alternated prayers with opening sentences. There are times when I can't decide between praying and writing, and it all comes out of my left-brained heart, anyway. And really, isn't it the same? Each one of our prayers are subconciously written, aren't they? Depending on who you are - or who you ask - only one person gets a chance to read them. But still, that's one reader.
This last week and a half has arguably been the single most humbling time of my life. When a dousing of cold water reminds you that you aren't really as in control of things as you thought - hoped, wished - you were.
And when it hits the fan (you know the "it " I speak of), you're left with two choices. You remember that which you believed (that you entrust a higher power to know better, that He is good and you'll be ok), or you crawl in bed and cry for four days.
I did the latter. While, begrudgingly, still clinging to the former.
And do you know what I thought the whole time, the phrase on repeat in my mind? "I tried so hard!" In all the ways I'd hoped I'd grown these years, this inconvenient truth remains: I still want to control my own destiny. And, even when I think I'm doing everything right, have every box ticked, have tried super hard, things will still go wrong. Or be different. Or not turn out the way you hoped. He will have His way, not mine.
If you want the nitty gritty details, I'll sum it up for you in this: I was denied a visa (not the money kind, the immigration kind) and now I've gotta play catch up. I'm collating documents and rewriting letters and clarifying what needs clarity. I'll submit these fine things and then I'll wait.
And I'm told - I hope, I wish (I pray) - it'll be ok.
So today I laid in bed for an hour. A week's worth of not eating, late nights and poring over documents has left me weary and on hypersensitive overdrive. I tried to slow it all down, to pray in deep breaths and let the music soothe my spirit. I prayed for wisdom and peace. For comfort in the waiting and confidence in the mess. And also that He'd help me calm the heck down.
In the meantime, things may slow down here a bit. All of my wordy energies are being used up in legal mumbo jumbo. And I'm just really, very tired. I want to not have to sneak a nap in the middle of the day to sleep-pray. So some new faces may pop up here. Or maybe nothing but a picture or two so you know I'm still around and not gone yet.
But let's also make a deal. When it hits the fan for you as it did for me, let's try this: you go ahead and get in bed and cry for four days. But meet me back here.
Let us remind eachother of who does what in this heaven-earth-God-man equation. It's so much less you and me than we think. We can try all we want to have it all together. But then, let's let it go.