Not Finished, Yet

It’s six o’clock, and I’ve already changed into a pair of bright pink, fuzzy leggings. Because apparently my work “uniform” of jeans and a camp t-shirt is too stuffy. It's like the universal symbol of "done for the day."

The laundry I folded yesterday sits in little piles on the living room floor.

We’re having frozen pizza for supper- for the third time this week. Despite the fact that I actually planned a meal, I got home today and decided that cooking is too much work and washing dishes afterward is way too much work.

I have motivational quotes ringing in my mind: “This is not your practice life!”

But you know what?

Sometimes,  I kind of wish this was my practice life.

There are times when nearly-thirty-and-married-with-a-house me looks a lot like college me. Aren’t I supposed to be a grown-up by now?






I mean, real adults make healthy meals, right? And real adults choose to put away the laundry instead of watching the stupid movie.

And real adults don’t wake up ten minutes before they’re supposed to leave for work and then run around like a crazy person, throwing food at the poor dog and wearing two different socks.

(Not that that happened this morning or anything. Ahem.)


It seems kind of silly, sometimes, but there's a deep-seated insecurity there.

I feel guilty. Guilty because I’m not living up to the way I thought I’d be, to the way that I thought I should be. To my image of what the “right life” should look like.

I should just throw myself into the pit of despair. They should revoke my adult card. I’ll be 17 forever. All hope is lost.





I seem to think that it’s now or never. Like the fact that I still don’t know how to can green beans, or that I procrastinate in doing laundry, or that I still bite my nails means that will never change, never learn.

But then I look at all the ways that I have changed. All the things that I have learned. 

In just the past year, 

I've refinished a hardwood floor. 

I've let go of some of that control I hold onto so tightly. 

I bought a house. 

I started leading a small group. 

I've written something like 140 articles (for this blog alone) and published them. 

I've lived in a house, then a camper, then a cabin, then another house. 

I went to a blogging conference. 

I've organized and processed registration information for more than 2,000 campers. 

In one year. All these things. All these risks. All this learning. 

They may not seem like big things at the moment- they may not seem like they're all that important in the day-in-day-out drudge of it all. 

Change doesn't always happen in that giant stretch or that big milestone. Sometimes change happens in the small stuff- in the little, daily decisions that make us who we are. 

So yeah, I'm going to sit with my fuzzy leggings and ignore that pile of laundry for today. 

Frozen pizza will get us by, once again. 

Because this day is important, but all those "failures?" The ways I haven't measured up to my expectations just yet? 

It's okay. 

God's got it under control. He knows my weaknesses, and He knows how He plans to use them. 

And He's not finished with me, yet. 

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