a guest post from danielle
It's August and by now you've felt like twenty-fourteen would've sound a little more 'fulfilled, older, happier' than it has actually proved to be.
Sometimes, reality is not such easy clay for the moulding.
Sometimes words, events, funerals, break your heart and you find yourself mourning the year this should've been for you.
Maybe your car has stopped running this year; maybe it's your heart.
Maybe you've been misunderstood by your closest friends, or maybe you've lost your last one.
We've all been injured by the shrapnel of Adam's fall.
Generation Y (those born from the 1980s to the mid 1990s) is called by the Huffington Post the "wildly, unrealistically ambitious" generation , and I am one of them. We plan big things for a fulfilled life, but make no space for the inevitable harshness of reality. Ideals are non-material, after all, but they can shatter just the same.
I have recently returned home after traveling alone for the last six months. I have been disappointed to find everything- including myself- much as I left it. Profound changes did not happen as quickly as I'd like, adjustments weren't as easy as I'd hoped, and nothing had really transformed.
Still I believe in this relentless force of sanctification, of redemption, of God making everything beautiful in it's time.
You and I, we are a part of this 'everything'.
As people in the digital, instant-gratification age, we forget how slowly the things of eternity develop.
Humans, we grow like plants.
God is the tender who wishes the process to move slowly, barely visible to our own selves. He cares for our souls in the ways that cause them to bloom.
When we are caught up on the treadmill of doing, we are blind to our own rebuilding that the
Lord is working in and through us- unhurried and sure.
Let the fact that there are only five months of the year left fill you with more hope than despair.
Continue with that book, that plan, that course, with the quiet growth of the everyday.
If you feel that you've regressed this year more than progressed; you haven't.
If you don't feel like you're being rebuilt; you are.
"Many plans are in a man's heart but my counsel will prevail."
My Father says, like foliage in summer, like let's rebuild again.
And I know, He always is.