Perspective, Adjusted

The summer was magnificently full, and we enjoyed the churches, camps and family free time at a gallop, as usual.  Sometimes we laughed--when water balloons went awry, and funny people happened.  Sometimes we cried--when that horrid pirate ship would NOT go together without a fight, and a dear lady told us our theme was "of the devil".  Sometimes we relaxed, caught up on sleep and visited local attractions wherever we were staying.

 

In the midst of the summer, I struggled with the yuckiness of reality.  When it ended, it would be time to return to a year that promises to be stressful, and a few (bazillion) less-than-ideal situations.  It's another in a string of transition years for us, and my impatient heart wants to rush headlong into the next phase and leave this one behind, but it isn't possible.  Among other things, I'm over grad school, and there are days when the thought of cleaning one more person's house makes me want to jump off a cliff.

 

Earlier this year, I had posted a lovely picture quote on Facebook that summed up my sentiments.  It was ever so sweet, and declared "until God opens the next door, praise Him in the hallway" and I loved it.  It spoke my language, and had a cute little picture.  There was only one problem:  it really isn't accurate. 

 

One morning this summer, I opened my Bible to Jeremiah 29:11 and read, "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."  And then I knew.  God has plans for me--Angie Davis--and they are wonderful.  And a God who has plans for me did not create hallways in which He intends me to languish while I wait for happier, easier times and greater opportunities.  He means for me to be faithful in this moment, and in the place where He has placed me.

 

Since that day, He has continually brought those words back to my heart, and it has helped to quiet my floundering spirit many, many times.  This year isn't a hallway--it's an opportunity tailor made for me.  Do I love every inch of this room?  No, but I have covenanted to do my best to bloom where I am planted---even if I often suspect I'm more weed than flower. 

 

Perspective, adjusted.  It's a God thing.  And it's a beautiful thing.