So, the first four weeks of school this semester have been
nothing short of overwhelming. I’m taking 15 credit hours, working 12 hours a
week, have new homegroup responsibilities, been preparing for co-leading
worship tonight at women’s retreat, trying to figure out how to meet up with my
lifegroup girls (or oversee them being met up with), figure out how to spend
the quality time with my roommates we all need, and – the part that makes me
giggle – figuring out a relationship, too.
While all of it is extremely exciting (including school and
work, not going to lie!) and I wouldn’t drop a single thing, it’s still so much
to handle and figure out, and I’m trying to understand what the heck to do with
it.
The first two weeks were especially overwhelming. I could
tell I was stressed to the max just by my dreams. One night I dreamed that I
was still in undergrad, living alone, both my roommates gone, unmarried,
working, the whole 9 yards, and then suddenly these three kids were plopped
into my life. In the dream, I was their only hope, and I was sitting there
freaking out over what the heck a single 20-year-old girl still in undergrad
and without a support system is going to do with a 9-month-old, 3-year-old, and
5-year-old.
There was also a lovely morning when my roommate’s (like, we
share the room) alarm went off, singing birds and lovely “morning sounds,”
which my brain interpreted as babies crying and dogs barking, and my half-awake
self started moaning in distress and couldn’t figure out how I had jumped so
far forward in life.
And then there have been these lovely, random emotional
breakdowns, where “nothing” will happen and suddenly I’m balling. Like, ugly
crying. Like, snot and tears and the works. Ew. (I still fight the gut reaction
to apologize to everyone who got to see that less-than-appealing sobbing from
me.)
I won’t even get started on the massive anxiety attacks that
are threatening to take over my life, or how my car died last week.
Anyway, enough about my junk. My point in sharing all of
this is because I’ve been desperate for help. Every day I look at my list of
responsibilities and wonder how on earth I’m going to a) complete them, b)
complete them correctly, and c) complete them with a good attitude and joyful
heart.
At this point, there’s nothing left for me to do. So I started
praying.
I think that there’s something about reaching a point of
realizing that you literally have no ability to do anything without help that
brings out deep and consuming desperation for Jesus. And the beauty is that He
never disappoints.
This week, in getting ready for the retreat this weekend,
I’ve had to finish homework that’s due all through next week as well, so that
as soon as I get home I can put all my attention to my test (of course, in my
hardest subject) that’s waiting for me on Tuesday. I look at everything that’s
happened this week, and all I can think is that God must really love me,
because He’s had to move some major mountains. And man, depending on Him to
come through is the best thing ever. I don’t like being weak, but I do like the beauty of leaning on Him and
seeing him do things out of love for me.
God sent along a Texas-style snowstorm yesterday morning
that prevented me from going into work and instead provided the most beautiful
set of time to not only finish everything that remained, but also get a good
lunch date in with my man.
My heart has been burdened for my lifegroup, desiring that
all four of us would be able to share about the hardest of things in life. I
have no way to figure out how to make that happen, but God reached in and
performed a miracle. He answered my cry mightily, and last night during
lifegroup, it was the best one I’ve experienced since before I started leading
a lifegroup. For the first time since freshman year, I felt like my girls loved
me and wanted to know my junk as much as I loved them and wanted to know
theirs. Those three girls are the biggest blessing God has brought into my
leadership-weary life.
Today I was freaking out about having time to wrap up
everything I need to do before heading off to women’s retreat, and when I got
to work, one of the women informed me that my supervisor had already finished
everything for the day and I could go home if I wanted to. I got back in my car
and nothing could halt the laughter from bubbling forth. What perfect timing,
that God would coordinate things so specifically. I don’t know how He does it,
but I’m thankful that he does.
I think that this semester will continue to be quite a
struggle. Perhaps there’s a chance that it’ll continue to take a strong toll on
me and my emotions, but for the first time ever I have hope.
It’s not a hope that I can accomplish everything, but rather
a hope that God is going to see how overwhelmed I am, smile at me, and just
hold me tighter. It’s a hope that somehow, through the crazy of life, I’ll
manage to know him better, not because of anything I could do, but because he
wanted to reveal himself to me.
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