Whispers and worries

Apparently I am not in a "rough week" but rather, a rough season.

This semester has been too short, too difficult, too stressful.

It seems like there are not enough hours in the day, dollars in the bank, or words on the page.

I thought that I heard so clearly God telling me that He wanted me to be abroad for the summer; surely, this is what I was meant to do. I prayed, I searched, I applied, I interviewed. When the rejection letter came through, I was terrified that I had heard the voice of God wrong and justified that it must have simply been a test to see if I was willing to leave.

I applied for Oxford with little prayer, with a prideful heart that literally said "God, I'm going whether you want me to or not." When the acceptance letter came in, I justified that God must have said no to summer missions because I needed to save money to cover the expenses of study abroad.

But there I am again, trying to make sense of a senseless world and of a great big God who must, by His very nature, remain a mystery.

There I am, trying to get inside the head of the Omniscient, trying to equivocate myself to the Omnipotent. There I am, trying to justify the Judge and make excuses for the Divine.

There I am, a little girl, weak and tattered and helpless, yet swelling with denial. I spend my days trying to figure out my life for myself only to become exhausted and frustrated. I acknowledge with my head that I am a child of the Holy God, yet my actions continue to show otherwise. Rather than find rest, I create chaos.

And so I lie awake, worried about where I will live for the summer; God whispers "How many nights have you gone without a bed?"

I crunch numbers, praying for my income to exceed my outcome; God whispers "Did I not provide for you last semester? And the semester before that?"

I search in panic for clinical trials, scholarships, grants, and consider which organs I can go without; God whispers "I own the entire universe. Never think that even your greatest bill is too much for me."

I frantically make TDL's, schedule back-to-back appointments, cram in a suffering social and academic life, and am left completely unsure of where to go next; God whispers "Be still. I will show you great and beautiful things. Trust in me."

I am left overwhelmed and confused by court proceedings and letters from lawyers that seem to never end; God whispers "Have peace. I alone bring justice, for I am the only judge."

I squirm with anxiety and fear as an unpredictable birth mother sends texts and emails; God whispers "She is my daughter, too. Love her as I have loved you."

And so I spend another day frustrated over poor grades, anxious over impending bills, and afraid of people who should not be able to control me. It is another day consumed by worry rather than prayer, fear rather than praise. It is another day of God whispering "I am still here, waiting."