You Would Think It'd Be Quiet In The Desert

All that stuff sounded so good last night.

Twice in two days I had an opportunity and I blinked. I didn't speak when I should have, now I'm feeling forced.

I prayed for answers and now I don't like the answer I got. I knew it was coming. Really, I did.

Did you ever beg and whimper and whine as a child for something that you knew you really shouldn't have? Especially as a child way too old for that sort of whining? Well, that's what I was doing.

I wanted what I wanted, knowing full well it was for myself only. It was selfish motives to be sure.

When I was pushed to really look at the whole thing clearly to see if it was best for my family, best for others, I had my answer before the "official" one arrived.

It stings to know you behaved that way. It is bitter to know another saw it for what it was.

And in spite of all that, it still hurts to let it go.

More and more as my day goes by and I collect information about different circumstances in my life, I see a long future of waiting. Right now it feels like I'm being asked to endure. Endure beyond what I have for the last few years.

This makes it sound so bleak and it isn't. I love my life here and now. It is good. I am solid in knowing that I am being obedient and the things I am doing are the things being asked of me. It brings comfort as the tasks seem to get harder each time.

But often, it still feels like a long dark walk in a barren desert.

The Moore book is speaking to me, finally. I've picked it up and started it many times, but this time seems to be the right time. I have a feeling this will be a theme book for a season in my life.

And so today, perhaps will be batter up. Yesterday and the day before I choked. It's silly really. A few requests or questions, I'm sure nothing more than a blip in the other person's day, and yet I've been wandering over it in my mind for far to long. There is no ill intent toward me, I am simply flustered and intimidated, caught off guard every time even when I'm expecting an interaction. She never means to be anything but friendly, kind and helpful, generous, even, but without meaning to be, she is authority and power and command. I flinch. But at the same time, I'm the rubber-necker who can't take their eyes off the accident scene. I'm the bug that doesn't know better than to fly into the light of the bug zapper. I want to run and still I'm drawn and feel compelled to conversations.

I like to think it's another God moment in my life. He's asking me to go out of my comfort zone for a reason, maybe my growth, maybe not. Maybe the other person needs something from God and I'll be a part of the plan. I'm not so bold as to claim to be a tool in God's hand, but maybe, just maybe, God uses even the most bumbling and flustered mom. So I'm setting out to have this conversation with a humble heart, although I'm guessing it will be more like a humiliation of sorts, but either way, I need to just do it. Sometimes God nags at your heart and mind in a way that makes it unbearable to say no, not now, I'll get to it later.