crossing the finish line

54 days until Christmas. The countdown is on.

Time to make goals for 2017. Time for self-evaluation and reflection.

Time to prepare for finals.

Time to register for next semester’s classes.

Time to decide another aspect of my life.

But don’t forget to relax at a corn maze in this 82 degree weather we’re having.


There are so many thing warring for my attention right now, but this is the one I want to focus on.

I want to talk about imitation.

I have several bloggers that I look up to and whose stories I read almost religiously, but I’ve found myself trying to model my writing after theirs. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Their points are valid and I appreciate their example, but why would I use the same tone of voice and style as they are using if there is already one blog like that on the market? I’m not trying to reinvent the wheel. I’m trying to share MY heart, not copy and paste their entries in a different format.

Patience.

Another thing that God is teaching me.

I hate waiting. The ER is my worst enemy, and having moment of rest  quickly turn into checklists for me. Whatever it is, I don’t think we are cut out for waiting. That’s why we need God’s help to mold us and come alongside us when we’re tempted to crave instant gratification.

I remember when I was little; I would check my mailbox daily for a letter. I didn’t know who I would receive a letter from, but I knew that eventually, something would show up in the mailbox with my name on it. I’m still that way. I love waiting when it comes to good gifts that I know are heading my way, but I can’t stand the unbearable wait when I don’t know the exact date and time I’ll receive my blessing or an answer.

I’m planning a Spring Break trip to New York for a few friends right now, and it’s hard waiting on permission and paychecks to come in when I know that I could have planned the trip in two days.

But God keeps reminding me that in the wait, He is refining me. He’s showing me other options and opening my eyes and I’m grateful that He doesn’t follow my calendar and isn’t fazed by my flawed schedule. I imagine Him looking down at me chuckling, unfazed by my tantrums, whispering “but if you would just listen-“, only to be interrupted by my whining “God, I know that this gift is from you, why can’t I have it now?” He just responds “patience Beccy. Wait. You have no clue what I have in store for you.” And He’s right. I have no clue. But I’m trying to live my life in preparation for whatever He sends my way.

 

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