Red and Yellow Inspiration

This week I mark one year since I left the city and moved to the mountains. I spent my morning walking along a trail off the Blue Ridge Parkway and marveled at the beauty of fall. Something about the winding trail and crisp mountain air made me reflect on the journey of the past year.

I struck out last year with my Honda Civic packed to the ceiling, left the city and people I had come to love, and headed to a place wholly unfamiliar. Leaving Chicago was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I remember the morning I left, bawling on the bathroom floor, filled with conflicting emotions of pain and joy, fear and bravery, regret and expectation.

Many moments of the past year have brought forth the same feelings. Many have been difficult and painful. Change is hard. But now, prompted by the colors of red and yellow, I see that the change has been beautiful.

My life looks pretty different now than it did a year ago. But not in the ways I expected. “In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps.” (Prov. 16:9) I’m so thankful that’s the case. He has created the change of the past year. He has refined the direction of the course I planned.

And I’ve never felt more ALIVE.

I often remember the great moments of the past year. But I don’t want to forget the pain. The hard parts of the journey. They point to this moment – the moment of understanding and clarity. Of realizing that it is the change that creates the beauty. The constant working of His will. Of refining my steps until they are in sync with His plans.

This is where LIFE is. Here in these brilliant woods. Here with my creator. Here with change.

The Long Way Around

As you can see, I’ve been away for a while. Partly because I don’t have Internet access at home, and partly because I’ve wanted to escape my life for the past two months. Well, at least the work part of it.

“Life is not a destination, it’s a journey.” I’m sure you’ve probably heard that phrase before. I’ve seen it on bumper stickers and t-shirts and have usually written it off as coming from some hippie who doesn’t wear deodorant.

But recently this phrase has taken on a whole new meaning for me.

In the beginning of November I discovered that I was not legally able to do counseling in the state of NC - the entire reason I moved here. It seems that the lady who hired me did not know what she was doing and left both myself and our agency in a hot mess. I found out that to practice counseling without a license is a class 2 misdemeanor… oops.

A little bit prior to this discovery the director of my agency fired another employee and then herself resigned a week later. So, I found myself in a position I could not do and with no director to tell me what to do.

To make a very long story short, I applied for a provisional license and began doing another job (within the same agency) while I waited for the license to be processed and mailed. I began working on the abuse awareness curriculum for the school program and ended up revising and rewriting a lot of it.

Now my provisional license is here and I’ve begun to see clients. Many times I’ve wondered what all that waiting was for, and why God brought me down here when he did. And I’ve realized a few things in the past months: 1) I waste a lot of my life waiting, and 2) I’m done.

I don’t know what I did for the past few months except worry and complain about how ridiculous my job situation was. I wasted the time and took it for granted. Looking back on it, I really enjoyed working on the school program and got some great opportunities as a result of it. But during that time I just wanted it to be over so I could move on to the next thing.

Well, I’m done waiting for the next thing. The next paycheck, the next job, the next stage of my life. I’m going to enjoy what God has given me now. I’m going to enjoy my life- the journey, if you will.

After all, there’s life in the waiting.