One Day at a Time

I realized today that I still have to live one day at a time. That God's will unfolds one day at a time. His leading happens one day at a time. He works in our hearts one day at a time.

That is not what I want. I long for the big picture. For answers. Solutions!

I'd like my new life on a platter Lord, or better yet a menu that I could sort through and pick and choose.

But he didn't lead me that way in the past, and he isn't leading me that way now. That doesn't seem to be how he works.

The path of faith is so much harder. The path of faith and not sight. Of trust without full understanding and answers. Of "Yes Lord" when I'm not sure what I'm saying "Yes Lord" to.

It feels like a millions years ago, but is only about 14, that G and I sat in our first apartment (oh that 500 square foot apartment that we loved!) and made a covenant with God. G would remember the words. He was always good at that. But the gist of it was that we would do what he wanted us to do. Our lives were his.

Now of course we thought we knew what he would choose! Missionary work in Africa - particularly Botswana - after a number of years of ministry at Virginia Tech (because it was similar to our alma mater, beautiful, and in "horse country". Of course youth and health would last. Marriage would continue to be sweet. Children would come when we wanted and in the number we planned. Our ministry would be "successful" in the eyes of the Lord and in the eyes of our ministry partners. God would use us. We would later on rock together on our front porch, hand in hand, in sweet silence and companionship, living out our days together.

I'm not sure we could've articulated that at the time but that was the dream. The goal. Maybe even what we felt we deserved. It felt like a "sacrifice" instead of a lucrative career (or just a career - neither of us was destined to do anything terribly lucrative!).

But that, of course, was not what happened. God had a different plan for us. One that he says is better. One that he had before time began. Full of dashed hopes and canceled dreams. Disease and trauma, surgeries and ERs. Terrible doctors and nurses that he clearly sent just to encourage us. Drawing close together through suffering and being torn apart by suffering too. Sin exposed all over the place. Anger, anxiety, depression. Failure. Foolishness. Immaturity being burned away. Being refined in the refiners fire. Waiting and hoping and mourning. Rejoicing in our child - but his timing and just one. Tensions in ministry, failures in ministry, more sin exposed. Family brokenness and abuse. Fleeing and finding that new situations can help but don't solve the deeper problems. More brokenness. More work to rebuild, to heal, to fall in love again. New questions and struggles and uncertainties. Hope and then hope shattered. A final goodbye that snuck up too fast two say goodbye. An aching, empty spot where G used to be and the dismantling of everything we had build together.

This was not my plan.

Yet when I look back, the beautiful things I miss about our life together don't all, but many do come from that story. Our marriage and life were built one day at a (sometimes) excruciating day. And even in the difficulty, is something to be grieved. It was God's beautiful story for us that burned away some of the dross, made an impact on others that we never could've in our own plans, and ultimately prepared G to go Home to Jesus.

So what now? I keep waiting for God to give me the plan - like it's a book and I can read the back cover and get the overarching synopsis - the highs and lows, but please, mostly, the highs?

Instead, it will come a day at a time. A step at a time. A hint at a time.

Here are some things I know and some things I suspect and some things I dream:

I'm in the middle. God is not rushing me toward the new and I can't go back to the old. I have to sit in THIS place. This place of tension and waiting and remembering and feeling useless and not understanding. He hasn't shown me where to go. So here I stay.

I desire change. I don't want to be alone. I want a life-partner. A husband. That is terrifying because I can't even begin to imagine how that works for widows, especially widows with children.

I have feelings for HW but I have no idea of they are born out of terrible loneliness and longing for excitement and interest from a man - or if they are from the Lord and a sign of something to come. One thing is for sure - I MUST stop initiating with him. Apparently I can't go more than 2 days without reaching out to him. Rolling my eyes at myself here. Girl. Listen to the Lord. Slow the train. Let him make a move if he wants to make a move!!!

Counseling? Going back to school? Is there something there? I keep coming back to that.

I lack all confidence in myself. I'm scared to do something new. Something alone. Something without G to lean on and hide behind. I want to be hidden. I always have. And it feels like moving into anything else will bring me - horribly imperfect me - out into the "open" where people can see me fail. See me not know. See me be insufficient. That scares me.

I need to figure out who I am. But more than that. I need to rest in who God made me to be. Audience of One. The gospel as rest. Just trusting in the one who is sufficient when I am not, who is worthy when I am not, who changes lives when I cannot.

My life isn't somewhere out there to find. It is happeneing today as I make cookies and play with P. As I hold myself back from texting HW and wonder why in the world he hasn't texted me. As I kick myself for being so obvious that I like him. As I go on a walk because I finally asked for help with P and am alone. As I sit here and type out my thoughts while sipping coffee, smelling my "bear" candle, which I love, and trying not to smudge my fingernail polish, which is making me feel fancy. God didn't reveal a new plan for me today. So I suppose the plan is to live today where he has me and trust him for tomorrow.