For the longest time, I haven’t known what to write for this next blogpost. The words never strung together in my mind. For the most part, they still haven’t. These last few months have been a really introspective time for me, and it’s been hard for me to figure out how to put my thoughts into words on the internet. But here I am, trying. And who knows, maybe I’ll get more out of this blogpost than you do; but I truly do hope that you and I find some way to get an equal amount out of it.My only hope for this is that it is honest and transparent; which, let’s face it, might not make it the most interesting. Anyways, here’s me.
This summer has been a hard one, if I’m honest with myself. I graduated from high school at the tail end of May, and for some reason that wasn’t as easy as I’d thought it’d be. I had a really hard time with the uncertainty of life ahead. I have discovered that I like to have a plan, or at least an idea, about what’s coming. I value knowing. Yet, I’ve come to accept that this season of life may not be about the knowing. It may be about the finding out, the opening of doors previously unseen, and even the opening of doors that I believed to be locked permanently.
Even though these last few months haven’t been the easiest for me, they’ve been valuable. I’ve learnt a lot about myself and I’ve gotten to think about the person who I want to be. I’ve also learned that it’s difficult for me to trust the Lord with my future. As I mentioned in the previous paragraph, I had a hard time the first month after graduating. I wasn’t a fan of the fact that I didn’t know exactly what my life in the next few months would hold. This time next year, I don’t know where I’ll be, or if I’ll even still be in Corpus. Life is becoming an unknown to some degree and that’s not something I’ve had to think too much about until now. Now that it’s on my mind, it really freaks me out. I like to know, and I don’t like to just trust that the wind will blow me where I need to go. Yet this summer, I’ve found that there is a third option, and it somehow surpasses the other two. Trusting in the Lord’s promises has proven to be better and sweeter, even if the unfolding often takes longer than I would prefer it to. Once again, I’m reminded of my favorite verse, Psalm 143:8. It reads, “Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I entrust my life.” I say this verse to myself multiple times a day; the promise speaks softly to my soul and brings a lot of peace. There is a plan greater than I could possibly conceive myself. That plan, although not yet completely revealed to me, is one I’m becoming able to trust in.
In many ways, this summer has also been amazing. I was able to go to the Dominican Republic on a mission trip, and that changed my life. I fell in love with the DR, and with the work being done there by Time Ministries. My team and I built a church and also held a VBS for kids in a neighborhood in Santo Domingo. My heart was so touched by the kids at the VBS, and it was surreal knowing that I helped build a House of God, a place where babies would be baptized and people would come to know my sweet Savior, among many other wonderful things that will happen there. My experience in the DR can be summed up in that it was a blessing to be a blessing. I hope to have a missions opportunity again soon.
In my fight of loneliness and self-doubt the last few months, I’ve had lots of time for reflection. A few weeks ago, I kayaked on the Guadalupe river with a friend. A lot of that time was spent in easy, comfortable silence where I got to lose my mind in the constant rowing motion. My thoughts were finally freed and I was able to think and reflect and let go of things that happened during senior year. In the weeks following my kayaking adventure, I’ve let myself think more and I’ve been able to give myself the time necessary to process and move on. It’s easy for me to think that I’m stuck, that I won’t grow through the pain. It’s easy to think that I’m currently in a dead season. Yet, I’m challenging myself to see this summer instead as a planting season, as a time for moving on from past hurts and growing through the freedom this brings me. And the quiet thinking time can be hard and lonely; but I choose to believe that this silence is good for me, the sound of a bottled up roar being quietly and gradually released. This summer, I’m choosing to sit and rest in contemplation, to not overthink but to finally think. I’m choosing to trust in a plan greater than myself, greater than my imagination can conceive.
Prayer for me is always appreciated. Thanks for reading, friend.