I don’t do this terribly often but let’s get personal for a minute.
We all have particular personality inclinations and one of mine is people pleasing. I want to make everyone happy, and related to this – I want to feel like I am doing the right thing. Now, I’m fairly self aware about this inclination and do try to make sure this trait doesn’t conflict with where I feel led by God. Life isn’t black and white though, is it? And I am more susceptible to suggestion that I would ever like to admit.
Last night I checked up on an old friend. We have drifted apart: our paths have diverged. I may have moved, but they moved on. And in comparison? My life looks insignificant and so very un-worthy. My focus seems off; raising my boys, traveling, worrying about petty things like math curriculum and black/white conversions. In the grand scheme of things that matter to the urgent issues of today, how do my priorities stack up? Poorly, that’s how. I felt so small and even worse was the palpable rise of anxiety: that old companion of mine. He whispers in my ear that I am worthless, lukewarm and out of sync with the only thing that matters…
So with downcast countenance I tried to soldier on with the evening. Of course it didn’t take long for hubby to read distress on my features. Having been married long enough to know damage control was needed ASAP, he wrapped me up in a big hug, bowed his head and prayed for me. It helped. It usually does. But the seed of doubt and fear remained.
While Dan showered I read in bed. I’m currently reading Jeannette Walls’s Half Broke Horses and as I wound down for sleep I came across this line: “Teaching is a calling too. And I’ve always thought that teachers in their way are holy – angels leading their flocks out of the darkness.”
As often happens, God had found me where I was and laid a comforting hand on my shoulder.
While I can’t say I slept peacefully last night (because Wesley, the incredible never sleeping toddler) I did sleep untouched by anxiety. I am right where I am for a reason. God’s reason. He will continue to meet me where I am and give me the encouragement to run the race set specifically before me; he will grow and call me personally as he sees fit.
And I will endeavor to accept his peace in it all.