"He Restores my Soul...."

A winter sun hangs low in the sky, its weak rays attempting to filter through the November clouds. I shiver as an icy wind blasts my face, and increase my pace, anxious to reach my car’s warmth and shelter from the cold. I definitely don’t miss this pat of living here, nor do I miss the crowds of people that clog both stores and freeways. Traffic. Ugh. I quickly open the car door, turn on the heated seats, clasp my seatbelt and ease my foot on the gas pedal to reverse out of my parking spot and onto the street.

I’m really happy I made this trip. I needed it. These first couple of months after moving had sapped all of my strength, and I needed a boost of confidence and restoration for my weary soul. Beautiful verses from Psalm 23 slip gently into my mind, and I silently breathe out a prayer of thanksgiving for this rest. “The LORD is my Shepherd, I shall not be in want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside quiet waters; He restores my soul.”

It reminds me of the wonderful coastal trip my sister and I made back in August. I re-read through my journal last night, and smiled as I came across my entries that painted the beauty of the landscape we traversed; yet another reminder that God will give me rest for my soul when I need it. All I need to do is look for it:

“The best part of the day was navigating our way from Napa to Petaluma. The sun was slowly falling from its lofty midday heights and would soon rest on the peaks of the mountains. Its rays shimmered and danced through quivering leaves, and as we emerged from the tree tunnels, I gasped. The road dipped down, nestled and curved between gently rolling hills that were lined with grapes on one side and dotted with grazing cattle on the other. In the distance sat austere mountain peaks, grey and misty in the late afternoon haze. The entire scene provoked a thought in my mind, ‘I bet this is a bit of what heaven will look like.’ One of my favorite Italian songs, L’Appuntamento, flooded sweetly into my ears as I nudged the steering wheel and turned the car around the next curve. Spired trees and Tuscan-looking architecture appeared in my view, and for a fleeting moment, I could easily imagine that I was back in Italy. Peace. That was peace. So much has been crazy and hectic and scattered in my life over the past three weeks, so I can’t even begin to describe how welcome the feeling if peace is to my spirit and soul.”

I’m grateful that God reminded me of that trip three months ago, when my life was just as crazy as it is now, and even more so because of all the unknowns I faced then that have answers attached to them now. God gave me a respite in the midst of turmoil, just as He gave me rest this past weekend that I spent in Minnesota. In addition to appreciating these times of rest, I’m also learning more and more the accessibility of His peace no matter what each day holds. I am learning the importance of enjoying each and every day that I’m given, whether that includes kids calling me “SUCKER!” to my face, me accidentally exploding cans of whipped cream in the Starbucks back room and subsequent cleanup it requires, having customers yell at me for making a drink incorrectly, or flat tires and disappointed relationship expectations. I can’t change these circumstances, but in the midst of them, I’m able to retreat to that little corner of peace that God has cultivated in my heart through beautiful memories and the power of His word:

“Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit.” –Galatians 5:25

I’m grateful for a God who provides access to peace when His children find themselves weary in soul and downtrodden in spirit. He knows just what we need and gives us the strength to go on.

I groan as I encounter the dreaded orange cones and inevitable arrows that are directing traffic to go down from two lanes to one. Just one of the unfortunate side effects of travelling in the city, and one that I’ll continue to endure for as long as I keep coming back to visit family. I roll my eyes as yet another car tries to budge its way in front of me instead of behind, like it should. I feel familiar road rage start to bubble up, and then I suppress it with a sigh instead. I can’t change the fact that construction is STILL going on, but I can choose my attitude. What good would it do me to be angry about it, anyway? I’m not going to be in Roseville for much longer, so I might as well soak up the annoyances that come with the joy of being back in familiar territory. So, I think back again on the verses of Psalm 23, “He leads me beside still waters….”, and soak it all in, instead. I’ll be glad to be back in California, but I also know I’ll think back with fondness on the bitter cold and frustrating traffic as comforting, homey aspects of life. So, I focus on God’s peace. I’m grateful I’m here. I’m grateful for each day, each moment, each second of life. It’s a gift, and I don’t want to waste any part of it.

Not My Plans

“Oh maaaaan,” I grumbled, and purposely thumped my head back against the headrest in annoyance. “I canNOT believe this!” I’d just pulled into the Truckee Tahoe School District office, early for my 9:30 appointment to sign paperwork that would solidify my new paraprofessional position. Reaching for my tote bag, I had rifled through to make sure that I had all the documentation necessary for tax forms, I-9 forms, etc. and only then had realized that my passport was still 15 miles away in Floriston, sitting on top of my file box where I’d left it this morning. I groaned as I slipped out my cell to call the HR director and beg to change my appointment time.

Ten minutes later, I was flying on I-80, windows down and music up, driving back to grab my passport. As I rolled past the picturesque landscape, I thought again about how disappointing this was, to hit yet another snag in the road during my first few weeks here. I’d already dealt with buying a car, getting a flat tire, having to replace all tires and struts on my car, and spend far more on establishing myself here than I’d planned. There were DMV title changes, driver’s license registrations, fingerprints, applications, tests and other assorted fees. To be so close now to signing onto another job that would make my lifestyle here possible and then to realize I’d left key paperwork behind only added to my frustration. I knew that I would still make it back for an appointment and that things would work out, but this was another hiccup, and I desperately wanted to done and finally feel established in my new home.

It was the mist that caught my attention. Slowly rising from the valley below, it shrouded the base of the mountains in its blanket, and with the sun reflecting off of the light particles, it cast them in the most beautiful light and dark shades of blue. How could I be frustrated and disappointed when THIS was my view? Sure, my emotions were still present and valid, but as I turned my thoughts pointedly towards things I was grateful for, I found the negativity disappear like the mist in the morning sun. I realized that this trip back to Floriston was a gift. I could get on a more professional change of clothes and freshen up a bit. I could grab a quick second breakfast. I direly needed to get gas in my car, and Verdi, Nevada was only 10 minutes down the road from home for an extra 80 cents off California prices per gallon. No, this wasn’t what I had planned for my morning, but it turned out to be so much better; what had started as a setback turned into a blessing.

Since then, I’ve experienced numerous things that haven’t gone as I would’ve liked; my job schedule is far too crazy and unsustainable for me, leading to sickness and a non-existent social life, something I can’t live without. I’ve had to cut back on hours, resulting in a lower monthly income. But through that process, I found out that my paraprofessional job is giving me a steady wage each month, regardless of vacation days, sick days, etc., and they even cover vacations, holidays, and sick days. This was an unexpected provision straight from God’s hand. He knew I would become overwhelmed by work and has provided a way for me to still meet my needs and yet not wither away from lack of friendships and fun in my life. Each setback I’ve endured has come with an outpouring of generous gifts from my Heavenly Father, and reminds me of the verses that He has been pressing into my heart over and over this past month:

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways," declares the LORD. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.” ~Isaiah 55:8-9

“In his heart, a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps.” ~Proverbs 16:9

I smiled as I pulled into the District Center for the second time that day. My renewed and freshened perspective would guard my heart against the disappointments that loomed ahead, still unbeknownst to me. Regardless of these further setbacks, I made it through and eventually got everything finished. Through this experience, God is slowly and surely teaching me how to praise Him and be grateful IN ALL circumstances. Choosing where to fix our minds has such power, and I’m grateful that God is training me in this, as it is transforming me into a happier person who is more and more trusting of His plans for my life. Thank goodness for that!

"Please Prepare for Take-off"

A splash of sunlight drifts through the oval window and slowly glides across my leg as the aircraft changes directions. I try not to disturb the passenger next to me as I peer over through the glass at the other airplanes awaiting departure, just like us. Finally the captain’s voice crackles over the intercom, “Flight attendants, please prepare for take-off.” I turn my music up to drown out the thrum of the engines as they rev in anticipation of launching this 100,000+ pound, silver titan of a Boeing 737 into the heavens.

It’s such an odd thing to consider—a machine of metal can somehow defy gravity and all other forces that pull against it and can glide on invisible drafts up to 30,000 feet above the ground, carrying tens of thousands of pounds worth of weight. For this reason, the take-off part of a flight terrifies me the most, and serves as a perfect metaphor for my present life situation. I don’t deal very well with change and momentum shifts. As someone who is naturally task-oriented, ambitious and driven, being out of a routine and structured environment leaves me feeling aimless and purposeless. When I don’t have an immediate to-do list in front of me, I start to feel like many people probably feel when they’re meandering the Target aisles—in search of something to divert them, but they don’t really know what it is, so they end up wandering around for a longer time than originally anticipated. That’s kind of how I feel—surrounded by a multitude of options for work and lifestyle, but I’m unsure as to how it will all come together, so I meander, and I worry.  

I’ve applied for a few different jobs, and can’t imagine how they will connect or provide me with enough money off of which to live. Being a barista, a paraprofessional, a taxi driver, a nanny and serving as a tutor? Really? WHAT am I doing? I find myself in the midst of limbo land, not sure which of these positions I will fill, not sure how I will support myself, not sure what to do. Talk about a rocky start. At least I do know my purpose in life is to help others and to find joy in God and in serving Him. However, changing my life direction and how my purpose looks is stretching and growing me beyond my comfort zone. How I choose to pursue God and His plans before and during a terrifying “take-off” period will define the rest of the flight. Will I boost the engines with passion and choose to launch into the unknown with faith that the drafts of courage and trust will uplift me and carry me safely to the next destination, or will I balk at the unknown that lies ahead of me: unfamiliar skies wrought with possible storms, clouds, and turbulence?

“Flight attendants, please prepare for take-off.” The engines spin faster and faster, their pulsing turbines indicating impending departure. The Boeing 737 turns her nose down the runway and the airplane picks up speed. I feel the familiar drop in the pit of my stomach as American Airlines flight 1497 tips upward, catching the drafts and powering into the skies above Dallas. This is the scariest part. This is the moment to have faith. To trust that I’ll be okay. That I’ll find a way amidst my latest adventure. That the world outside, which presently looks slanted and uneven, will eventually right itself to a cruising altitude of normalcy and routine. I’m also reminded as I glance again out the window that, though take-off is the most unpredictable part of the flight to me, the views are incredible. The perspective it offers of the world below and beyond takes my breath away. My life may look different than it ever has before, but I’m still powered by the same purpose, and I'm confident that it’ll take me home.  

I'm Trying not to Panic....

“Don’t worry,” my sister assured me as she glanced down at my phone in her lap. “It’s coming up in about a half a mile. I’ll tell you when.” I kept my eyes glued to the road ahead; dusk was falling, and without street lights and only 5% battery left on my phone, I was nervous about navigating our way to an unknown destination, an airbnb spot in Aromas, California. We’d started our day up in Muir Woods, where the scenery and road directions changed constantly. With the navigational difficulties we had encountered both in Muir Woods and again heading towards Aromas, I was hit by the uncanny parallel between our California road trip and my own life journey.

It’s only been two and a half weeks since my life-altering decision to move from the Midwest to California, and I’m struggling with it. I know it’s what God’s called me to do, but what should I do next? Just this next step of packing up and moving, along with an awaiting barista job at Starbucks, is the only thing that’s clear to me at the moment. And for a person who’d had her entire next five years of life planned out, this is TERRIFYING. Maybe that’s the point, though. It’s hard to trust God with my whole life when I’ve already had it planned out for myself. This brings to mind the passage in Proverbs that says, “Many are the plans in a man’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails”, and again, “In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps.” There doesn’t exist a more relevant passage in scripture for me right now than these two verses.

Lately, I’ve trusted myself and my own plans, and have resisted giving over the day-to-day parts of my life to Jesus. This trip down the California coast and the weeks to come present one of the greatest challenges of faith I’ve yet to experience. I mulled this over on a walk down the sands of Sunset Beach that night and was suddenly startled out of my reverie by a flock of seagulls. Something spooked them and they rose as one shivering, speckled mass, curving to cross in front of the sinking sun. Their fluid motion and beautiful flight brought to mind Bible verses that speak of God’s provision for His children; if he cares so much for the birds of the air and flowers of the field, how can we doubt for a second His steadfast love and faithfulness in providing for His people (Matt. 6:26-28)? Jesus himself reminds us in Matthew 6:34, “Do not worry about tomorrow for tomorrow will worry about itself. Does not each day have enough trouble of its own?”

I was encouraged by this revelation, and so chose to place the rest of my day into His hands. I also stopped worrying about planning out the rest of my life (this does not include goals. I think those are a totally different area). Why should I try to plan everything out? God’s plans will be so much greater than my own. I say this to give people hope. Please know that if you often find yourself succumbing to anxiety, you are not alone. Anxiety is a battle I face and something I struggle with daily. I’m convinced that Jesus wants to shine the brightest through this weakness of mine. Maybe one of the reasons I've been called here is that Christ may show the power of His might in changing my heart from one of anxiety and fear to one of assurance, faith, passion, and conviction. As the apostle Paul writes, “Therefore, not looking back at what has been, we strain on ahead, working for the prize set before us” (Phil. 3:13).

“Right here,” Elise pointed to the street sign glowing in our headlights. I took a left where she pointed. As she gave me each direction, I realized that was the only direction I needed to concern myself with. Too many directions at once, and I would easily become overwhelmed, yet not enough direction and I would not know where to turn. God is doing the same thing for me by illuminating only the next immediate step and nothing beyond that. Otherwise I would surely become overwhelmed. We turned onto a curving, quiet road and strained our eyes in the darkness to read the house numbers. We almost missed it, but caught it at the last second. “Whew!” I let out a breath I didn’t even know I’d been holding in. “We’re here!”