I'm asked frequently what I'm going to do with myself when all four of my kids start school this fall. "I'm not sure," I answer, because as usual my "tomorrow" plans are hardly solidified. The truth is, I just can't picture it - me here all day...alone. There is a bit of pressure there to take on something BIG, and I have to reign in those expectations because I've tried before to force myself upon projects that simply were not meant to be. Good things ...or rather the right things, I'm learning, come to those who don't jump ahead of themselves but wait attentively in faith for the next step to be revealed.
Waiting attentively in faith can be maddening, of course. What the heck is around the corner? I want to seeeee it, touch it, know it! My only recourse then, when my patience runs low, is throwing myself - mind, body and soul - into these clear as day, right in front of my nose tasks, these less than glamorous chores involving ironing boards and brooms. What will I do in the fall? The answer, I'm convinced, lies in what will I do with my now. Can I find purpose and joy in the small, in the anonymity of plain old physical labor? Can I conjure up gratitude in any situation, including mundaneness, ambiguity, disappointment?
God spoke to Elijah not in an earthquake or a fire, but a gentle whisper. Shhh...quiet down, my anxious spirit.