I haven't felt much like blogging lately. There are some hard things going on right now in my life. Someday soon I think I'll be brave and write about some of those hard things. But, most days, I don't feel like writing. Instead, I feel like sitting outside and looking up into the sky and thinking. I think a lot lately. I think about things that I've always known to be true, but am now having to gain a greater understanding of. Mostly about Christ's role in my life.
I'm pretty sure that before I came to this Earth, I had some idea about what some of those hard things I'm facing might be. In fact, it's been confirmed to me in my heart over and over again that I did. I've always believed that, according to God's plan, I would have to experience the hard to know the good. If you were to ask me a year ago if I have faith in that plan, I would have told you, "yes", without a doubt. A year later, I will still answer "yes" to that question, but that "yes" comes with a caveat. The "ins and outs" of what "hard" means to me have taken on a new meaning. Trying to navigate this plan God has for me has become, on many days, overwhelming. I have relied on God many, many times in the past. I've trusted His judgement. I've listened to His still, small promptings. I've asked for direction with faith that I would receive it. I've tried to say, "thy will" first. But lately, He's given me some "opportunities" for growth that I'd rather decline. I know I have the power (as a daughter of God) to decide what to do with what I've been given. But somewhere along the way, I've felt like that strong person I've always considered myself to be has gotten completely lost. Not lost forever. Just humbled. And I know, in the bigger scheme of things, it's okay. And necessary. And important for my progression in this life.
Last Friday I loaded more than three months of dry cleaning into the back of my suburban (too much sky time). It was honestly at least five armfuls of clothes. I have been going to the same dry cleaner for at least ten years. When I got there, I popped the back open, scooped up the first load and headed inside. From the corner of my eye I saw the owner, a kind and soft spoken asian man approaching. He smiled and said, "I help you!" And he did, as he managed to pull all the remaining clothes into his arms and carry them inside. And this small act was enough to make me smile. The kind of smile I don't feel a lot lately, but still resides in my heart. And tomorrow is a new day. And tomorrow I will get up and keep working, and praying, and telling myself these words, "move forward, move forward, move forward."