Dear Corporate Ladder-Climber, I see you over there. Curled up in your tiny cubicle. Staring at a computer screen for eight hours straight. Sipping way-too-hot coffee in the morning and way-too-cold coffee in the afternoon to try to stay awake. Blinking ferociously and stretching frequently because you’re scared of the trending phrase “sitting is the new smoking." You might as well buy the jumbo pack of cigarettes now.
Before you assume that I’m saying it is sinful to write letters to your future husband, I promise that’s not what this post means. For me, it could lead to sin. For you, it may lead to positive things, like gratitude or submission to God’s will. And that’s amazing! Just don’t forget to be on guard against sexual, unrealistic, or discontented longings.
If God is my everything, I don’t need anything. I don’t need a date for Friday night. I don’t need a boyfriend who buys me flowers. I don’t need a husband who holds me in his arms. And I don’t need Four. Because I have Him.
What if—right now—we just need to rest in God and His perfect timing? What if we all learned to recognize that now may be a period of waiting—not dream-chasing?
The cycle of trying to rush from one season of life to the next season can change, but we must pause to ask ourselves: What are we rushing to? What are we trying to achieve? Why are we so eager to be in the next season of life?
For a time, Raegan and I were friends. But our schedules changed, and so did our lives. We went our separate ways, but whenever I had the occasional encounter with her after that, these ugly feelings crept inside my heart and made me feel uncomfortable around her.
I think most people feel like an unbaked bowl of cookie dough for the majority of their lives. We feel like an unbaked bowl of dough, or a blank canvas, or an unfinished math problem. And, for most of our lives, we constantly ask when the dough will be baked, the canvas will be painted, or the problem will be solved. We waste our whole lives trying to figure it out. And, as we try to figure it out, wrestling with questions and doubts and concerns, the cookies are being baked in the oven, the canvas is being painted, and the math problem is being solved—and we don’t even realize it.