I’m getting my hair to match my life tomorrow: twisty and crazy. Yes, people, for the first time in my life, things are going to match….I think that’s a sign of getting old. Shoot.

Sleep likes to taunt me, and party planning is completely more overwhelming than I thought it would be. And the boys…so many boys. All the non-confusing ones must be really good at hiding.

All at once, I’m thinking about what texts & phone calls mean, I’m thinking about how we are going to set up the tables for the party, I’m wondering what in the world I’m going to do for my first Toilet Talk, I’m praying fervently for the girl in my youth group whose dad has a week to live, I’m hoping I find something to do with my boring twins, I’m worried about if I’m going to have time to work out, and praying that I can sleep well that night. My hair is too straight and smooth for times like this.

Thank goodness for my aunt, she is taking on a huge load. Do you have table cloths? Whitney you NEED table cloths! Let me bring some table cloths. So I told her to go as crazy as she wanted. God knew I needed her for this party, and she’s helping my heart not feel as tired.

You know in the movie Miracle, when the coach keeps the players on the ice and makes them skate those lines over and over?

Again.
That word. It’s haunting and tiring and makes me sigh. Please, not again. Don’t make me do this again. But it’s not a question, and I don’t have much of a choice. I’ve noticed, though, that I never do the exact same thing again. It’s always a little different, and usually a little bit harder. The hill is slightly steeper, and I feel pushed to run faster.

The last one was so bad, I knew it had to be it for awhile before the next one. I knew I’d get a rest.

And just weeks later, I heard Him say, Again.

So I’m working through this “again”. I’m trying to be selfless and others-focused in my prayers. I’m trying to let Him be the source of my smiles even if my heart is not smiling. And I’m really trying not to freak out; I promised myself I wouldn’t do that. I know His plans are good, I know I will look back on this curly-haired time and smile at Him.

My friends use a lot of whens. When this waiting is all over, when you’ve finally found it, when when when when. And as much as I’d love to believe those whens, reality hits me and what I thought was a few months has turned into five years. Five years that have transformed my whens into ifs, and my ifs into my hopefullys. And the pessimism is growing.

But I know I am not living for those whens, and I’m definitely not living for the hopefullys. I’m not even living for the “post-college single plans” I finally sat down and made. My prize is Him, and my eyes cannot leave His gaze. He is who I am running towards when the hill is steep and rocky. And if all I have is Him, I have all I need. It’s not over when I finally graduate, it won’t be over if I get married, or have kids, or am ministering in an amazing way to people. It will be finally over when I see the Face I have been seeking all along.

And He spoils me. He sends me perms, and he sends me funny boys, even if they are confusing and awkward. He sends me awesome one-piece swimsuits.

And thank God He sends me people to help with the table cloths.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

limited

pointless stories that falsely sound symbolic