Thursday, May 21, 2009

Sometimes, all you need is just a fragment



There have been certain situations that have cropped up all around me that have elicited a lot of introspection as of late. And the aforementioned introspection meandered to a specific time in my life where I learned a specific lesson.

When, at 18, I braved the school down south, I embraced my new-found independence with the zeal of a kid in a candy store. (Assuming that most kids enjoy candy... I know I did. Pop rocks, anyone?) I had all of these ideas in my head-- that I could work 20-30 hours a week, have a social life and graduate summa cum-laude-- and all whilst wearing stiletto heels. (Okay, maybe not that last bit, but you get the idea.) And, even though I always had some underlying sense that I would not meet my future husband in college, the odds were kind of stacked against me. (Secretly, I didn't mind much about that either. That was back when I thought I'd totally be married by 21. Because I'd be so old. Ha.)

As I dove into collegiate dating life (perhaps sticking my toe in would be a better analogy, because I don't dive), I found that it was not as I expected. That though the men I dated were older than me, they weren't really. Meaning that I felt like I was still in high school... that I was experiencing superficiality at its finest. If that all makes sense.

I think after awhile though, at least in my case, certain aspects of that superficiality began to masquerade as depth. I always knew exactly what I wanted... but I got really good at making excuses. I knew that I was losing objectivity, and I felt that no matter where I turned, who I dated, it always cycled back to the same feeling, that something was missing... accompanied with the feeling that I was tired of caring.

Basically, there were many nights spent on my knees in prayer, usually amid tears. I pled with God a lot during those four years. Prayers of discouragement and dejectedness. Prayers filled with questions and desires. I mean, I just wanted to know that it would all work out... you know? I just wanted to know that I would find my someone. Someday.

And, through all of this, the lesson I learned was to trust in Him.

Completely. Unreservedly. TRUST.

Trust that he knows me better than I could ever know myself. Trust that if I tried my best to align my will with His, that I would be able to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Trust that He has a plan for me. And even if I could only initially offer Him a mere fragment of faith... it would be enough to begin a building block that would help sustain me through the tough times.

Sometimes I think it takes a lot, to exhibit faith and trust. Especially in God. I think that our finite minds cannot fully comprehend God's plan for us. It was meant to be that way, to test us, to try us. To help us to realize that we do need Him... not because we're forced to need Him, but because we want to need Him. (And because, honestly, without Him, we wouldn't and couldn't be.)

I have always loved the phrase that says, more or less: "Pray as if everything depends on God and work as if everything depends on you." I think it signifies the importance that we have to continually seek to improve ourselves, all whist exhibiting some faith and trust. Sure, it's not easy, but I think it just may be worth it. (Aka, totally worth it.)

Sorry, I think this turned out to be a bit more religious than I initially intended... but my belief in God is so much a part of who I am, that I guess it's bound to manifest itself here.

{image by ta, found here}

2 comments:

Kenna said...

I don't have anything deep to say in return, I'm sorry. I will say, however, that I needed to hear that.

Bad.

Thanks for keeping me going today.

Shannon said...

The Oak sleeps in the acorn--As A Man Thinketh, James Allen.

I love this quote; it reminds me of faith. If we but just have the seed planted within us, right? This was a lovely post. I love how you integrated the reality of life with the reality of prayer and faith. It still astounds me that they are so connected and that prayer has such a power to change and shape my heart, even in the midst of (bitter/confusing/hard/impatient) reality. Thank you for sharing. And in such a beautiful way, too.