“… every moment of our life has a purpose, that every action of ours, no matter how dull or routine or trivial it may seem in itself, has a dignity and a worth beyond human understanding.” – Walter j. Ciszek
There’s a late August chill in the air, perfect for the first week of classes at the college. Students laden with the heavy books they’ll only bring to class on the first day, looking forward to the time when they’re teachers or social workers or therapists or engineers. And I’m siting in a giant chair surrounded by empty shelves and packed up boxes, drinking tea (black and green with hints of peach) and letting the sun warm my toes, looking forward to a time when I know where I’m going and what life is going to bring.
Transition has been the theme of my life for the past several years. I’ve been waiting to move, moving, transitioning into somewhere and then transitioning out. The process, the constant change, leaves my heart feeling chaotic. Because I want a plan. I want to know what to expect. I want consistency. I want control. More than all those things, though, I want shalom.
Shalom is the Hebrew word for “peace,” and it’s big. It’s more than just a lack of external conflict, like praying for “peace in Syria.” It’s more than a lack of internal conflict, too, like praying for “peace about this decision.” It’s everything settled and everything good. It’s everything being as it ought. That is what I long for in my life. that sense of “oughtness.” And I don’t know what that means for my life. I don’t know where I ought to be.
Except in this moment. In this moment, I’ve been given space to be with God. To sit in the sunlight and reflect on my savior. To intentionally trust that He is bigger than all the hurt that is in the world. He’s bigger than my future, and he knows where I’m going. He has a plan and a purpose for me. And right now, his purpose for me is to be here, in my bare apartment that smells like eucalyptus, with Him.
What is God calling you to in this moment?
