I sit here awaiting tomorrow.
The day that has been six years in the making.
Six years filled with the taste of too much Nutella, energy drinks overflowing, and my eyes heavy due to lack of sleep. I have pushed through too many all nighters, struggling to focus, forever attempting to balance perfectionism with the worst kind of procrastination.
Six years of high expectations. Six years of subtle laziness. Six years of writing 10 page papers the night before they’re due.
Social media has become my arch nemesis, and my body has formed an aversion to coffee. Sweet, sweet coffee… I’ll still drink you with the hope that I’ll be able to fall asleep before 2 a.m. & my stomach won’t implode.
This day has taken its time to arrive. Slowly making the journey towards me, and then approaching all at once like a rushing wind.
I have been a student in three different institutions, changed my major twice, failed a music theory class, found my niche in the education field, witnessed dreams die and become resurrected, and visited two different continents. I experienced the repercussions of my dad’s deployment, and rejoiced in his return one year later. I fell in love, became a wife, learned to cook, and we adopted a cat. My testimony has been tested time and time again, but never have I been more confident in the sovereignty of God, and the faithfulness of His promise over my life.
I will never leave you nor forsake you.
I will not abandon you to the grave.
Old friendships have deteriorated due to distance, but new ones have been born out of missions trips and spontaneous coffee dates. I’ve learned the importance of having a supportive church family, and realized that fitting in is actually a really hard thing to do.
I’ve come to terms with the fact that people will always talk over me, but I still need to try my hardest to make my voice heard.
I’ve learned so many things, but still have so far to go.
I wonder when the learning process finally ends…
(p.s.: the answer is: *never*)
These years have been a crude mixture of both the beautiful and the horrid. Excruciatingly long, yet not long enough. Confusing, but filled with purpose. I’d like to say these years were the best years of my life, but then again, how can I even begin to imagine what the next six years will hold?
Life will not look the same in 5 years, and I try my hardest to see a glimpse in the life of future me. I hear the possibility of pitter-pattering little feet, and blurry visions of little hands reaching out to be held flood my mind. My heart skips a beat. I think I’m finally ready…but then again, I’m really not ready at all. I see us moving overseas, working as missionaries, and living lives of intentionality and simplicity. I have the strongest inkling that I won’t find contentment doing anything else, and only hope this sentiment holds true.
While each season will not be void of struggle, I hope that I can read these words again and be encouraged. Encouraged when those same little feet and grubby hands make constant messes, and I feel more exhausted than I ever have before. Encouraged when we leave the mission field to itinerate, and are forced to say goodbye to friends that have unintentionally morphed into family. Encouraged when the newness of everything wears off, and I begin to miss my own family back in the United States. Encouraged when I begin to doubt everything because life is just too hard.
Encouraged to know that everything happens in God’s timing.
Everything: that all encompassing word that not only includes powerful, flourishing mountaintop experiences, but those dry, weary hikes through the valley that creep up on you and render you helpless.
Encouraged to enjoy every season as it ebbs and flows.
So I sit here awaiting tomorrow.
Awaiting the unknown, and welcoming it with open arms.