I feel certain that with every trial and hardship God gives us the opportunity for growth. It's just that some of us take a lot longer to learn, well, anything. I remember thinking (during these last few months), "Hurry up dummy! Learn your lesson quick so this can be over sooner!"
Obviously I'm just kidding. I know it doesn't work like that. But I am, personally, a professional worrier. I worry about ingrown toe nails. I worry about germs as leg cramps overtake me and I hover inches above public toilets. I worry about the Terminix man secretly being a serial killer and taking a liking to me. I worry about rabid raccoons biting Mabel. I worry about taking a swig of spoiled milk, accidentally leaving my flat iron plugged in, and fleas taking up residence in the living room shag carpet. I worry about the New Madrid Fault Line and a national shortage of Nair.
You get the idea.
I think that maybe it was a blessing to dangle from the very end of my frayed rope in these last few months. Because I had to stop worrying. It was quit worrying or deal with an exploding head. Quit worrying or have a coronary. Quit worrying or self combust.
I can honestly say for the first time in my life I sat back and threw up my hands. That tiny little part of me that usually whispers "Come on, drag your lifeless body out of bed and try this... this one more thing that could fix everything" was finally silenced.
I never understood the concept of waiting on the Lord before this. The concept of "be still and know." It's good to be still. It's good to know.
But I have a stockpile of Nair just in case there's a shortage. And I'm still leery of the Terminix man.
*If anyone missed my interview with Shellie Tomlinson and wants to listen, you can find it here.