In exactly 10 days, I must be completely, 100% moved out of my home. On October 25th at 6am, I fly to Colorado for 4 weeks of cultural, international missionary training. On November 1st, while I am gone, the first of my two renters moves in. I am simultaneously maniacally deciding which of my life mementos I want to keep, packing for Colorado, packing for San Salvador and attempting to continue raising support so that I can get to San Salvador and begin walking out God’s call on my life. Oh, and at 8am this morning, I had my right eye tweaked (not to be confused with twerked. Nothing ever needs twerked. Ever.) and “re-lasered” because, although it was much better, my vision wasn’t quite perfect after my Lasik procedure 2 months ago.
My life is chaotic.
I have so much to do, just a few days to do it in, and yet I find myself sitting at my borrowed table (the only item of furniture left in my home is my bed), scrolling through Facebook for minutes on end. “Netflix and chill” is not longer a reward for a day of hard work – it has become an escape from the hundreds of things needing to be done in my life. After reading status after status about people actually doing things with their days, this becomes my thought process:
Do I go through my hundreds of earrings or do I sort through my office supplies? Will I need envelopes in San Salvador? I should keep these earrings – Mom bought them for me when she went on that one trip and now she will never be able to buy me earrings ever again. I wish mom were here. This is hard. I literally can’t even right now. Just ONE episode of Friends while I basic white girl out with my coffee with pumpkin creamer and pumpkin bagel with pumpkin cream cheese. Do they even have pumpkin flavored things in San Salvador? Awwwwww this is my last season of pumpkin flavored everything! Just one more episode. CRAP! There is so much to do and I’m not doing any of it! This will never get done!
Amidst all the turbulence in my life, I have become like Jesus’ disciples in the boat during a raging storm. Water is sloshing into the boat. Waves are threatening their buoyancy. It is dark and the land has disappeared. Jesus somehow sleeps through this turmoil, and His disciples awake him and clamor,
Teacher, don’t you care that we’re going to drown?
That, my friends, is where I don’t want to find myself – crying out to Jesus, HELLLOOOOO??? Do you even care that I am drowning here?? Rooms remain unpacked, my fine things are piled up to be sold in yard sales, my memories scattered to the wind…yet I know that Jesus is here among the disarray. I know that He is using all this disorder to teach me things about my own character and His. I know that Jesus is holding my flustered cheeks in His mighty hands, and as my eyes dart from room to room, from item to item on my to-list, He patiently whispers, Hey! Hey! Look at me! and when my eyes are finally able to focus on His eyes, Jesus asks of me,
My sweet girl, why are you afraid? Do you still have no faith?
I am forced to ask this of myself – why AM I afraid? Am I afraid that God won’t get me to San Salvador? Am I afraid that I won’t pack the right things? Am I afraid that if I forfeit a memento to the trash that my memory of that moment will be forfeited as well? Because my answer is yes to each of those fears and so many more, I can only have faith. Without faith that God WILL get me to San Salvador, provide me with all that I need and fill my spirit with memories of my previous life, without that faith, my ship will founder. I will give into living in fear. I must have faith.
And as if in an attempt to remind me why I have faith in Him, Jesus draws me close and calms my storm. It is in the arms of my Savior that I am able to exhale, let go, and trust in Him.
Suddenly the wind stopped, and there was a great calm.¹
¹ Mark 4v35-40