Freedom from the future

I've been meaning to write for well over a week now, and then midterms happened. Even now there is so much I should be doing -- for one thing it's going on three and I'm still dressed -- but I think if I let this go any longer I'll never find the time.

Retreat was interesting in a lot of ways. There was more structure than last year under our old chaplain, probably because our new priest spent many years running a retreat house in the U.K. Of course, the fact that this year had a central theme had a lot to do with that, too.

Pray instead of worry -- story of my life. Now and then I find myself thinking "let go and let God" ... even though my old confessor drove me crazy with that slogan and I never listened. He was right, though. And for the first time in my life, I can say that I think I'm finally learning to do that.

We spent a good deal of time going over some of my favorite passages in Scripture -- most of Matthew 6 particularly. And every now and then he would send us off for 20 minutes to journal and pray. As I did, I finally allowed myself to make an uncensored list of every fear and worry that plagued me. That first night, I filled the page and let the tears come over how controlling I have let them be. I was so frustrated with myself, disappointed, and scared. If I lost this much sleep at only 20, what would I be like in another 20 years?

Over the next 24 hours I wrote a lot more, during Father's talks, during those periods of reflection, and sometimes at night after everyone else had gone to sleep, always praying for peace. The real change came on my quiet hour.

Saturday afternoon I walked the grounds, watching the leaves blow (have you ever noticed that it looks as if a hand is scattering them? I have. God's little fingerprints, I like to think. :)) until I found my way to the little church that's always empty, letting me pray aloud. Every time I walk in there, I'm flooded with memories -- I lashed out at Him there once in October when I lost love, and again in March after I had lost my faith.

This time, I asked a stream of questions, most of them like my list, "What am I supposed to do about...?"

Until last weekend, May 13, 2011 was going to be the end of my world. I would be ripped from the safety of academia and shoved, helpless, into the real world where nothing was certain. No Newman, less independence living at home, less contact with friends. Providing a life for myself -- a job, somewhere to live, a support system, maybe a new church, (please God) someone to walk with me in marriage someday...What am I going to do? How am I going to do this? I can't do it by myself!


Just like that, it hit me, all that we had been learning, and I was stunned into silence. "Who among you by worrying can add a moment to his life?" "Have no anxiety about anything." "You see how God cares for the sparrows, so how much more will He care for you? You are much more precious than they."

God has gotten me this far. Every step of the way, He has come through, even though it's not instantaneous and sometimes rocky. And He's promised me only this moment, not tomorrow. I can't worry about the future anymore. When I do, I miss today. Hell, I might not even be here tomorrow. But I have the present.

Trusting in His providence 100% for the first time is so liberating. I was always so scared to do it, but I left my baggage at the altar in Elverson and walked away. I'm okay with that, because as long as I stick with Him, I'll get where I need to be. That's something we're promised, too, and He always keeps His promises. End of story.

ETA: This verse literally just appeared on my Facebook. A God hug, as Cat says...

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight. 

--Proverbs 3:5-6