“Maybe the reason God doesn’t tell us his plan for our lives, is because if we knew everything that was going to happen to us, then we would trust our knowledge of our lives and not God’s guidance into the unknown.”
This was my friend Matt T’s Facebook status today. I love how when I need to hear something, God finds a way to tell me. Like the verse of the day I get emailed to me every day? Philippians 4:6-7 this morning. And the fact that when they came to visit yesterday, my parents left encouraging post-its all over my room and I didn’t find all of them last night. (I think they know I’m a ‘words of affirmation’ person and value words way more than what others think when they use them sometimes.) Today was a rough day. Because yesterday, I hit a burn out point and a breaking point within hours of each other. It’s really frustrating, being burnt out when there are three weeks before graduation. (Ah, but I will still have another semester! But student teaching will be different than listening to lectures and writing super long papers. Instead I’ll be writing lesson plans and be in front of kids all day. Hypothetically more fun.)
I’ve been trying to “relax” when I can, but I don’t know if I even remember how. I journaled to the Lord what was going on in my head, telling him the lies that were circulating, even though I knew they were just that—lies. I felt him combat them and direct me to Bible verses. And then I had this feeling that I needed to play the piano—now. I was really confused if that was me or him, actually, but I listened. As soon as I sat down at the piano, I played a diminished seventh chord (loudly). I played inversions of it to make a sort of melody in the top voice. And then I realized that the left hand ostinato I’d been messing with for the last month or so fit the diminished seventh and then resolved it. So I went back and forth—a FORCEFUL diminished seventh, followed by a mellower major chord. I added a minor chord in there sometimes. And then I just played. Many diminished, minor, and sometimes major chords played a melody while my left hand played the ostinato, moving from C major/diminished, to D major, to E minor, sometimes E diminished seven. Together, the dissonance created beauty. Because I was in my dorm room, I had headphones on, so I was the only one who could hear it (that is OKAY). But it was exactly what I needed.
Where words stop, music speaks. When I have let the music have its say until I can’t feel my fingers, I turn to writing once more. These are words I write now.
I don’t really know where the future will bring me. I have no idea still what I’ll be doing this summer, but arrangements have been made for me to either stay here or at home. I’m not sure what I’ll do for a semester after I graduate, but I am planning on interning with Cru for a year after that. And then? I have absolutely no idea. But I have given all these fears and added stresses to God, who’s got my back. I have realized that I must surrender these anxieties to him daily, or I find them in my hands and am freaking out again. It’s like I’m in the car and not being shown the road map. But I am okay, because “if we knew everything that was going to happen to us, then we would trust our knowledge of our lives and not God’s guidance into the unknown.”