limited

I wish I could write on this dang thing more often. The unfortunate thing is that before spring break, I can’t think of a time when I was free, or even thought about this poor little website. Life has bombarded me.

I longed for this week of break, when I would have nothing to do. When I could actually sit and watch tv. Or talk to my mom. Or go on a really, really long run.

I laughed as I typed that. I still have to practice piano two hours a day. And work out. And take friends to the airport. And buy birthday gifts, teach piano lessons, help with youth group. This week really isn’t that free. But it’s less.

But sometimes having more time gives me more time to worry. To be confused. To freak out. I’m really good at freaking out. Really good. Especially when it has to do with boys.

So my friend and I were freaking out together last night. We sat in my kitchen just staring at each other in confusion. Neither of us knew what to say. We couldn’t help each other. We were…freaking out. And we shared our deepest secrets, our deepest struggles that night. Ones we promised we wouldn’t tell anyone, even each other.

I spilled a bowl of blueberries and we found ourselves on the floor of my kitchen picking them up. We couldn’t bring ourselves to stand up. We sat there, crying and praying. Oh, Lord. We cannot handle this. We can’t. We are so confused. And worried.

And even as I’m typing this, it creeps up on me. Not knowing. I’m scared.

But we sat there and prayed and decided not to let ourselves freak out. Because we have a Father who loves us. And we doubt His goodness, His ability to work things out, His plan. We doubt so much because of our clouded vision, our fallible reasoning.

So every time I freak out, I walk into my kitchen and stare at the floor where the blueberries and tears spilled.

And I just choose to trust.