So here I am. Still.
Or rather, here WE are. Rod and I have been practicing our waiting skills. Last December, he finished student teaching and began job hunting. We figured by the end of May and the end of the school year that he would have found something. Then when that didn't happen, we figured for sure we would have something by the end of the summer. Nope.
For the last month or two, we have been living in this limbo, wondering if we will have a new life next week or if we will have to keep waiting until next year. Everyone has been unbelievably supportive and encouraging, reminding us that we are in a good place and offering to take us out to dinner or to take us in for a weekend. My dad said that we've basically already taken any advice he would give us.
1. Don't try to make tons of money
2. Live your life to help people
3. Be open to whatever God wants for you.
Still, in spite of all that, I find myself waking up every morning with my fingers already crossed and my breath already held. Is this the day? Are we finally going to know? I have scriptures plastered all over the walls reminding myself to trust in the Lord with all my heart and that God acts on behalf of those who wait for Him. I run around telling people that we are listening to God, being patient, trusting in His will and provision, pausing only to straighten my perfect-angel-believer-halo.
But on the inside, I am Veruca Salt, twirling around Willy Wonka's factory, breaking golden eggs and singing "Don't care how, I want it nooooowwwww." Every day feels like the last straw, and I don't know if I will last through another. And every day, God gives me what feels like the minimal daily requirement of grace, patience, strength, and hope.
I am reminded of the Israelites wandering in the wilderness, when God provided bread from heaven and told them to gather it from the ground and eat it. "So the people of Israel did as they were told. Some gathered a lot, some only a little. But when they measured it out, everyone had just enough. Those who gathered a lot had nothing left over, and those who gathered only a little had enough. Each family had just what it needed." (Exodus 16)
That promise is what I have been clinging to recently. Whether I need a dixie cup full of grace or a grand canyon full, I trust that God will provide what I need for each day. Why else would He tell me not to worry about the future? Easier said than done.