I think we all have levels of our lives that we need to consider to be "safe."
X dollars in the bank
school loans paid off
car loans paid off
gas costing less than $2/gallon
not fighting with your spouse
knowing your kids can go to college
good smoke detectors
cars that don't break all the time
jobs that pay enough to save some money
good health
medicine/doctors when health isn't so good.
good insurance (life, health, home, etc.)
neighborhoods/cities low in crime
The list goes on and on. And, to be fair, I made up this list because these are some of the things that make me feel safe - not just other people.
But here's the thing - safe is not a state of consumer peace. We think it is. We somehow get sucked up into the tornadoe of endless dissatisfaction with the state of "safety" in our lives. As my husband says, "we always need a back-up, get out of here quick plan," in case your current life patter/situation/trajectory doesn't work out.
Jesus never said all of those things would bring us peace.
Jesus never said any of those things was even remotely important. not to our physical bodies, our mental bodies, our emotional frames, and especially our spiritual temples.
Jesus. is safe.
"Come to me, those who are weary and laden, for I will give you rest."
Jesus doesn't keep us safe from all that we fear in our every day lives. Jesus keeps us safe, "in the shadow of his wings," about everything that matters. Eternity. Eternally safe. There will be no more tears, pain, or grinding of teeth.
Safe. is Jesus.
1.30.2009
1.12.2009
P P & E
Emptied.
So often, I cautiously admit to God that I would be okay if he taught me to be more patient. I am always scared of this, partly because I’m a rather impatient person in general, and partly because I am an incredibly decisive, driven and passionate person. Often, to me, patience = doing nothing. Patience means losing that drive, falling into apathy, giving up emotional connection and basically sitting on my hands, humming to myself in an effort to be entertained.
I can’t deal with that kind of patience. I see those of you who know me well smiling at that sentence.
So. Recently, I had a job interview for pretty much my dream job. Cons were it was a 45 minute commute each way, was only evening hours, and some of the benefits were kind of sucky (2 vacation days for the first 12 months). That aside, best job possibility I’ve come up against in two years. Not even joking.
Interviewed on a Tuesday. Though this was quicker turnaround than most, I was told I’d hear back by the following Monday at the latest. In the meantime, I spent literally hours agonizing over how to adjust my life to evening hours, working a part time job during the day, when I’d go to the gym, how I’d manage my time especially with a commute suddenly going from two hours or less/week to almost ten, especially with a part time job added. How to rearrange our budget with current salary, etc.
Wednesday went by. Lots of emails back and forth with my husband. Thursday went by with them calling me to check the phone number of a reference, so I know I’m still in the running. My references love me, so shouldn’t be a problem there. Friday comes and goes Saturday comes and goes. At this point, I’m somehow growing more and less sure that I’ll be offered the job. I have an entire speech prepared if I am offered it. I have no idea what I’ll say if I’m not.
This whole time, I think to myself: be patient, be patient.
And, surprisingly, instead of getting more and more tense, I do start to relax. I’m still ridiculously anxious, but not at bursting levels. I’m still just as passionate about the opportunity, but not so much that thinking about it makes me want to cry.
That’s my kind of patience. Within the excruciating desire to find, know, succeed NOW, a peace. Not that changes my drive or personality, but that blends with it. Is patience the same quality as peace?
Sunday comes and is on the way out. I get the phone call with “we went in another direction.” They say they really liked me and they’ll keep my resume at the front of the file. Good news in some ways.
Only problem now is that I don’t know how to combat the emptiness that’s left behind.
So often, I cautiously admit to God that I would be okay if he taught me to be more patient. I am always scared of this, partly because I’m a rather impatient person in general, and partly because I am an incredibly decisive, driven and passionate person. Often, to me, patience = doing nothing. Patience means losing that drive, falling into apathy, giving up emotional connection and basically sitting on my hands, humming to myself in an effort to be entertained.
I can’t deal with that kind of patience. I see those of you who know me well smiling at that sentence.
So. Recently, I had a job interview for pretty much my dream job. Cons were it was a 45 minute commute each way, was only evening hours, and some of the benefits were kind of sucky (2 vacation days for the first 12 months). That aside, best job possibility I’ve come up against in two years. Not even joking.
Interviewed on a Tuesday. Though this was quicker turnaround than most, I was told I’d hear back by the following Monday at the latest. In the meantime, I spent literally hours agonizing over how to adjust my life to evening hours, working a part time job during the day, when I’d go to the gym, how I’d manage my time especially with a commute suddenly going from two hours or less/week to almost ten, especially with a part time job added. How to rearrange our budget with current salary, etc.
Wednesday went by. Lots of emails back and forth with my husband. Thursday went by with them calling me to check the phone number of a reference, so I know I’m still in the running. My references love me, so shouldn’t be a problem there. Friday comes and goes Saturday comes and goes. At this point, I’m somehow growing more and less sure that I’ll be offered the job. I have an entire speech prepared if I am offered it. I have no idea what I’ll say if I’m not.
This whole time, I think to myself: be patient, be patient.
And, surprisingly, instead of getting more and more tense, I do start to relax. I’m still ridiculously anxious, but not at bursting levels. I’m still just as passionate about the opportunity, but not so much that thinking about it makes me want to cry.
That’s my kind of patience. Within the excruciating desire to find, know, succeed NOW, a peace. Not that changes my drive or personality, but that blends with it. Is patience the same quality as peace?
Sunday comes and is on the way out. I get the phone call with “we went in another direction.” They say they really liked me and they’ll keep my resume at the front of the file. Good news in some ways.
Only problem now is that I don’t know how to combat the emptiness that’s left behind.
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