I haven’t really blogged this summer. I’ve just been so busy. I take a train into work, and after it I usually have to stay in the city for a few hours for different reasons—to attend firm events a couple nights a week (lately, more), meet-up with friends, or, on occasion, work late. By the time I get home, it’s basically bed time. But I miss blogging. I miss putting my thoughts into neat little themes and bite-size life lessons (at least that’s how I perceive them; you be the judge).
Anyway, on the flip side, my morning travel pattern adds reflective quiet time I don’t have driving to work in the morning during the school year. Rather than brave morning rush-hour traffic for 45 minutes-plus, I have more than a half hour to sit while someone else drives. I love it. I hop on at the end of the Line (or beginning; you pick), so I get first dibs on seats (I like the ones at the ends, mostly because I have room to stretch out my legs and keep my big bags), and by the time the train gets crowded and noisy, I’ve journaled—written letters to God--or just thought about life—for more than 20 minutes. Because at that point I’m in my zone, despite the multiplication of bodies at about my twenty-first minute, I get in another ten of reflection before I hop off. For some reason, it’s one of the easiest places for me to talk to God; it’s funny that I can trace Him answering my biggest prayer requests to at least some of the thoughts shared with him during morning-Metro journaling (my other favorite places—a local garden; another at school). I guess it helps that I don’t have classes to think about; I feel totally free.
But there’s been something different about my rides into work this summer. They haven’t been as enriching. I think I know why: because I’ve been asked by God to do something—something that will probably be big, and, with the many things I’ve got going on, I haven’t found the time to do it. But I should, because I feel God is putting a number of other things I’ve prayed for on hold until I step out and do it. But it’s hard. Part of me doesn’t feel I’m cut out for it; for lack of a better analogy, I feel like Moses in Exodus 3, when God called him to lead His people out of Egypt, but Moses felt someone better qualified should do it. I don't want to make what I'm supposed to do sound bigger than it may be--I'm not God, but it does have the potential to impact a lot of people. A part of me knows I can do it, because it is actually related to a gift I have, but I also feel my life experiences—and my personality—disqualify me…
What is this “thing”? I don’t know that I’m ready to talk about it (here or in person); I’ve mentioned it to a couple people, but only in passing. The point is, the more I pray about it, the more I’m aware that I just have to do it, and let God take care of the rest.
If I don’t actually want to say what I’m doing, why am I sharing? Because, again, blogging gives me the chance to isolate a thought—a theme—and write about it. It’s therapeutic. And empowering. And that’s what I need; a reason to do. I also bring it up because you can pray for me. Pray that I actually act. This is a summer project that I know I’m supposed to start, well…in summer. This summer.
