My Redeemer Lives

There is a time for everything.

A time to be resigned, and a time to stand up and throw off the yoke of unfair blame.

Of course, now is not that time.  I don't think I could ever be so unkind to someone.  That's the problem with me...I'm rather good at resenting and telling a person off in my head, but I only very rarely will do so out loud.  You can bet, though, when I do, that person had done something I consider very wrong, perhaps even unpardonable.  Afterwards, though, I always feel like I'm a bad sport, and a rather rotten person.  Just for telling someone they were being disrespectful?  I am far too soft inside.  I need to cultivate that thicker skin, I think.

But that's me, isn't it?  I couldn't hold a grudge to save my life.  Give me a night of rest, and whatever bothered me the day before has been forgotten.  Certainly, I remember what has gone wrong, but I don't really have negative feeling about it any longer.  If I have done something wrong, I simply end up resolved to repent and ask forgiveness, or whatever it may take.  Sure, it's a little humiliating and humbling, but being a little disgruntled is a small price to pay for the freedom that comes when someone's forgiven you.  You feel like nothing in the world could ever go wrong again.

It's a rather nice feeling.  You know somewhere in the back of your mind that something bad will probably happen again, but you are so relieved with the release of tension and worry that you don't care about it for now.  Yes, there will be more times of regret and guilt, but that is part of life - part of being a loverly human being.  The important part is that we learn to rely on and trust God, and do what is right - not what is easy.

I'm rather tired, and I have a lot of school tomorrow morning, but I do have bright hopes for tomorrow.  His mercies are new every morning, and so is my heart, I think.

Here's to a sweet, holy sleep.

~Fumble

The World's Doing Just Fine Without Me

Yesterday I posted about how quickly things seem to change.  As if God's reply, some things did change.  Not necessarily the things I wanted to change, and it wasn't my timing - but that isn't the point, is it?

To summarize, I was *fired* this morning.  It wasn't a terrible affair, just my manager sitting down with me to explain why.  I hadn't been picking things up quickly enough, and he needed someone who could be in the front of the store working, without needing help.  So, he was letting me go, would call if he could use me in the future, and that was about it.  It wasn't unkind, just factual.  I didn't cry, and I doubt that I will.  Before getting the job, while getting the job, and before going to see the manager this morning, I prayed that God's will would be done with this job.  If He wanted me to keep it, he would make a way for me to do so.  If not, that would become clear inherently.

I confess that I am disappointed, but mainly with myself.  I feel as if I could have done better, but I'm not going to dwell on it for the rest of my life.  In the end, I trust God.  Implicitly.  Perhaps senselessly, by this world's standards, but His is the one trust that I can be sure of.  Only He is faithful.

So.  I'm sad about losing the job, but I feel peace about it.  I enjoyed the short time working there, and if nothing else, I learned enough that I could work at another place if I so desire, but I'm not going to desperately try to find another job.  I don't blame the manager, and I really don't blame myself all that much.  It was a first job, and I had never worked in that type of job before.  Of course it was going to take me longer to learn.  It's no one's fault.

Should I really be torn up and desolate over this?  I might have lost a job, but I'm alive, aren't I?  My family is in good health, I have a place to stay, and I'm in school, free of charge for this semester.

I am okay.

I can trust that God knows what is best for me, and I have already surrendered things into his hands.  Now is the true hard part - waiting.

If nothing else, I have confidence in my God.

And, really, that is all I need.

Now, I just need to rest in that.

~Fumble

A Life in His Hands

It's funny, isn't it?  How quickly things can change.  The little boy you loved and held is half grown, and away to places you still can't understand.  Where did that tender heart go?  Or is it only hiding?  And that wonderful old friend you met again?  Where are their hearts at now?  What has changed, and what never will?

I wish I could just take their faces in my hands, look closely, and see it all, and perhaps even understand.  I wish that by looking in their eyes, I could somehow bridge all the lost time between us, and that things could be sweet and young between us again, full of possibility.

The seasons of our life, how quickly they seem to change.  I can never get used to the change, for though I'm hoping for the next season, as I believe I'm tired of the one that has been, I realize only too late that I'm not ready to let go and begin again.  I keep forgetting that, though life springs anew each year, nothing is ever the same again.  Those times that have gone will still be gone, only the memory is further away now and the ache a little less.

I dearly - perhaps too dearly - love so many people, and for things to change is heartrending.  I break again and again, like the safety glass of the window in the college; a web of loving glass that has cracked, but refuses to be sharp lest someone get hurt.  It is the greatest mercy that I have God, for to whom else could I cling?  Who else would never change?  If there is nothing else good coming of the turmoil of my heart, it is enough that I draw closer and closer to God my strength.  I am certain that he is the only one who could hold my heart without having all the pieces fall apart.

I still long for those days past, where innocence was a way of life, not a question.  I am a traitor to myself, as I have changed as well.  I am not sure who this person is yet; I do not know where I am going.  These dreams, desires, and deep thoughts are only half-formed; still clay in the hands of the Potter.

My only consolation is that I can trust His Hands.

~Fumble