Post Grad Duck #13
I always forget how much I love writing, until I start to do it…
Yesterday, I spent 12 hours in travel as I made my way back from Georgia to Pennsylvania. There were car rides, plane flights, and layovers leaving me with more time than I wanted to think, to process, to write, to pray. It was exhausting, but it was good. As my good buddy Ben Rector says, “…sometimes we can get lost living in the here and now. sometimes it takes the sky to see what’s on the ground.”
Like I said earlier, I spent yesterday traveling. I had just spent a few days in Atlanta at a mid semester training session. I love RUF trainings because I get to spend time with some of the greatest people I’ve ever met in addition to being reminded of how God is continually at work. He is at work in my life, in the lives of my fellow interns, and in the lives of our students across the country. It’s amazing; a fact that I feel as though I shouldn’t forget, yet often find myself struggling to remember.
As I was sitting roughly 30,000 feet in the air, I looked out the window like anyone would while in an airplane. I watched the clouds become much bigger than I’d see from the ground, and I watched the houses and roads below shrink to Monopoly size. We were leaving Baltimore and heading to Pittsburgh. The sun was making its descend and everything started to get heavier; however, from up in the sky everything was still bright–the sun was gold, the clouds were white, the sky was blue. Then we started to land. Suddenly, the clouds were gray, the sun went away, and the sky’s color became a blur.
Wait, what? No. Why is everything changing? It’s so beautiful up there. Why does it look so bleak down here. Just beyond the clouds, there is the sun. It’s bright and everything seems to be dancing. Just beyond the clouds…
And that’s when it hit me: Not everything is meant for me to know; at least, maybe not right now. Recently, I’ve been trying to figure out several things. I’ve been trying to figure out why my job is simultaneously really hard and really good. I’ve been trying to figure out why I feel like i’m becoming more introverted. I’ve been trying to figure out why everything that I once knew seems so far away? The list could go on, although I’ll begin to get exhausted all over again. But there in the clouds, just above the view that people could see from the ground, I was reminded that the sun does exist even when skies are gray. I was reminded again of the fact that God is at work even though I can’t always seem him working. I was reminded of the fact that “faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1).
In State College, Pennsylvania, I’m in a place surrounded by so many people that seem to be so different from me. That’s really good. I don’t know why these people are different or why I feel like they’re so different, but I do know that beyond the clouds of confusion there is a Son that’s shining and will surely rise every new day, illuminating even the bleakest of times. This means that I can both rest and work and cry and laugh and speak and remain silent. Why? Because my sight doesn’t determine the might and power of the Father. How silly of me to think otherwise.
“For it pleased the Father that in Him all the fullness should dwell, and by Him to reconcile all things to Himself, by Him, whether things on earth or things in heaven having made peace through the blood of His cross.”
Thank You so much for Your sweet reminders & the funny ways in which You choose to remind me. I love You and I’m so thankful for where You’ve placed me because You know exactly what You’re doing. Thanks for allowing me to be a part of something bigger than myself, a part of furthering Your kingdom while I’m at Penn State. You’re SO good to me!]