Sunday, December 23, 2007
Stop Struggling
I usually don't mind the long drive between the Bay area and SoCal. Six hours is actually just about right--six hours to be alone, listen to music, think, pray, and think some more. I stock myself up with some good music or a book on CD and I'm good to go. As long as there’s no Thanksgiving traffic, I really don't mind. Just don't take away my CD player.
Last Saturday, just after I stopped for gas in Kettleman City, I got a crappy burned Christmas CD stuck in my car's CD player. I tried various methods of extracting it while driving, to no avail. So there I was in silence with 2 ½ hours of driving ahead of me. Please note that this was in the middle of the Central Valley--the most boring part of the drive. This is the section my sister calls "Bridgefield," because--you go under a bridge, you go through a field, you go under a bridge, you go through a field--for TWO HUNDRED MILES.
So. I couldn't help but think of times other friends have talked about this type of thing happening and it being a case of God forcibly removing distractions so that they could listen. I think there's sometimes some truth to that. I also think that people can over-spiritualize things like getting a CD stuck in your car's CD player. It's an inanimate object, for crying out loud. And after all, I've been doing a lot of talking to/ trying to hear from God lately. I wasn't really feeling it, to be honest. But I sat there in my silent car, driving through the middle of Bridgefield, and said: "Ok, God--what have you got?"
I started rehashing some of my frustrations with where I am right now. I don't like being in transition with no real answers as to what's next. I don't like living back at my parents' house with little idea of how long I'll be here. I hate answering the same questions over and over: "Aren't you glad to be home?" and "How long are you visiting?" and "So what are you doing next?" And you know what I heard from God in response to all this complaining? "Stop struggling."
Oh.
And then God, in his infinite wisdom, continued on to remind me of the immortal words of Josh Bates. An echo from years past, advice given back in my Fullerton College days: "Be where you are." Even when you don't want to be where you are? Yeah. I guess so. I know I'm not going to be here forever. But that doesn't mean that it's okay for me to spend every minute fighting against being where I am. This IS where I am, for now. And until the next thing becomes clear, I need to stop struggling.
Last Saturday, just after I stopped for gas in Kettleman City, I got a crappy burned Christmas CD stuck in my car's CD player. I tried various methods of extracting it while driving, to no avail. So there I was in silence with 2 ½ hours of driving ahead of me. Please note that this was in the middle of the Central Valley--the most boring part of the drive. This is the section my sister calls "Bridgefield," because--you go under a bridge, you go through a field, you go under a bridge, you go through a field--for TWO HUNDRED MILES.
So. I couldn't help but think of times other friends have talked about this type of thing happening and it being a case of God forcibly removing distractions so that they could listen. I think there's sometimes some truth to that. I also think that people can over-spiritualize things like getting a CD stuck in your car's CD player. It's an inanimate object, for crying out loud. And after all, I've been doing a lot of talking to/ trying to hear from God lately. I wasn't really feeling it, to be honest. But I sat there in my silent car, driving through the middle of Bridgefield, and said: "Ok, God--what have you got?"
I started rehashing some of my frustrations with where I am right now. I don't like being in transition with no real answers as to what's next. I don't like living back at my parents' house with little idea of how long I'll be here. I hate answering the same questions over and over: "Aren't you glad to be home?" and "How long are you visiting?" and "So what are you doing next?" And you know what I heard from God in response to all this complaining? "Stop struggling."
Oh.
And then God, in his infinite wisdom, continued on to remind me of the immortal words of Josh Bates. An echo from years past, advice given back in my Fullerton College days: "Be where you are." Even when you don't want to be where you are? Yeah. I guess so. I know I'm not going to be here forever. But that doesn't mean that it's okay for me to spend every minute fighting against being where I am. This IS where I am, for now. And until the next thing becomes clear, I need to stop struggling.
| posted by Barbara | 2:13 AM