I’m in this season in which I am not occupied by work, busy schedules, red marked calendars, etcetera. Literally not working on anything, I began this feeling pretty much insecure of myself. Sure, I just passed the boards. (I’m now an architect, yaaay.) What now? This resting season really didn’t feel very welcome for me. There was a week where I spent most of my time brooding (more than usual) and asking God a lot of things about how He’s using me, IF He was using me. That week, I felt almost as if I had more questions than answers.
The thing about coming from a high-stress industry (or a restless personality) is that we begin to equate effectivity with activity. Perhaps the world’s voice is yelling in my ear that the only purpose I was serving at the moment was being a space eater. In any case, I’ve never heard of anyone who was effective by sitting around doing nothing huge, going bored. My purpose of glorifying God felt winded down. With the “busy” taken away, I fall into helplessness. You can never have any control when you’re not holding on to anything. And that feels very, very strange and worrying after a season of thick planners and overflowing Post-Its. Chores and extended family time didn’t seem to be at par with creating the next piece of architectural wonder. Don’t get me wrong, I love spending time with my family, but after weeks and weeks of only that, worry started creeping in. What if I don’t find work? How long am I going to “rest”? Aren’t I being a burden?
Until this week, I felt like I’ve been living life two ways: Busy and Waiting to be Busy. The latter part is a restless, senseless, “arewethereyet?!?!” short while that stretched on to the point in which I was dying to feel really busy and in control again. And there’s the little fox: I’m not in control. God is.
This week, God has given me a very beautiful reminder: Consider the lilies. Consider the lilies, daughter, because Solomon in all his splendor is not arrayed like one of these. Neither toiling, nor spinning. The lilies are. It comforts me knowing that He accomplishes what He starts in us. In this pause, God is teaching me that His plan does not change even if I have nothing to hold on to. Nothing but Him. Which is really the crux of it all. Ephesians 3:19 was the breaking point for me: the fullness of God. Fulfillment isn’t found in what we can do but who He is, and He fills us to the brim, to overflowing, which I will have a hard time noticing if I had been filled to the brim with stress instead.
The silence used to be frightening when I thought of all the things that I wanted to be NOW, instead of letting God be God. Now I’m emptied of all these things taking my gaze away from Him, I’m free to only look upon Him to fill me with His fullness, to further His purposes by HIS grace. God is amazing. He’s teaching me that the measuring stick for a person’s purpose is not in the achievements, checked boxes, or the crammed scheds. In my human mind (with the world’s voice still ringing in my ear) I can’t wrap my head around it, but the rest period counts for something, somehow, in God’s bigger plan, if I follow His lead and obey now.
There’s a time for everything, as Ecclesiastes says. The time reserved for me now is to rest, and wait, for the new blessing and challenges ahead. Restless me would have groaned at the thought of insurmountability. But Rested me is now saying, “Well God, You’re the Big Guy around here. Not gonna be worried.”