“Don’t you see how wonderfully kind, tolerant, and patient God is with you? Does this mean nothing to you? Can’t you see that his kindness is intended to turn you from your sin?”
As I sit on my back porch, the wind rustles the leaves in the trees and the pages in my Bible. Rather than the sunrise I usually see in my quiet time, I see Earl Grey clouds, swollen with rain, concealing the blue Texas sky from view. This change of weather comes at a change of seasons in my life. In two days, I will move from the home I’ve known for twelve years to a place I’ve dreamt of and visited throughout the last six. I leave my family, my church, my favorite person, my friendships, all behind for the sake of life change through the unknown. Surely you would expect me to be excited, nervous, eager for college. On the contrary, I’ve been battling anxiety, hesitancy, and fear. I blamed these feelings on the home I’d be leaving behind, the community I’d cultivated that could never be replicated. It wasn’t until last Wednesday that God revealed the true reason behind my begrudging heart: He was leading me to summit the next peak in my life, but I wasn’t trusting Him. I glanced at the obscure equipment lying at our feet, focused on my innumerable weaknesses, longed for the familiarity I’d left behind, rather than gazing on the beauty and strength of my Savior. Who was I not to trust the Creator with my transition to college life? As my dear dear T has been reminding me, God has secured me in the palm of His hand.
“When doubts filled my mind, your comfort gave me renewed hope and cheer.”
As I’ve come to this conclusion, a small flicker of joy has resumed in the hearth of my heart where there was previously desolation and despair. I eagerly await to see which friendships will bloom in harvest time, which church I’ll connect with, which campus nook I’ll have quiet time in. Jesus has planted delight, elation, and zeal within me. This fall will give me ample time to get alone with God, freedom to follow his call on my life. I can see the beauty of a sunrise on the horizon, and He’s sailing this empty vessel toward a new shore. The wind of His presence is strong, His wisdom is sure, and His love is sound. I have no fear, for the One who knit me together has a firm grip on my unsteady hand.