I’m desperately eager these days to find some schedule to latch on to. A list of times that I do things. A week that I always do laundry on Mondays, go to bed promptly at 10 pm, and eat waffles for breakfast on Saturday morning. I crave a little more sameness from week to week, day to day. But today – a Wednesday – I folded a single load of clean laundry between a quick microwaved supper and an evening rehearsal and I realized that this is not the season for schedules, nor do I need to try to make it so. This is a season that I run a load of laundry on a day that the washer and dryer is available, whether it is Monday or not. This is a season that I’m grabbing a few minutes in the middle of the day for a run, or an hour in the evening for my “morning” devotions. This is a season that I go to bed at midnight and one day and at eight-thirty the next. (Ok, 8:30 is just a fantasy I like to entertain in my daydreams from time to time.)
I would like to rely heavily on a clear cut, easy to follow, routine based schedule. I would like to rely on the dots on iphone calendar – showing me a normal agenda to adhere to from day to day. But that is not this season.
It seems God likes to move us to places where we feel out of our comfort zone and away from our favorite hand holds to cling to. It seems God is about moving us out into the realm where we must choose grace.
Grace for the days that the alarm gets snoozed one or two or ten times. Grace for the days where I load my freezer with pre-packaged meals from that aisle at the store I pride myself on avoiding. Grace for the penciled out schedule hanging on the fridge that looks attacked by frenzy. Grace for the days my eyelids barely stay open while I attempt to study scripture. Grace for the daily workout that turn into a weekly workout. Grace for when I rise, when I go out, and when I come back in.
And I find myself, as I lean fully on this grace, a little more aware that the presence of the one who gives this grace is all around me. On those sleepy, dark mornings I sense His light. On those mid-morning walks to playgrounds and libraries I recognize His movement. In the late nights watching the high school students put on a show I see His handiwork. He is alive, He is present, He is near.
I look forward to the days when things calm a little and my days are more predictable. But until then I lean into the grace offered me, and I revel in a God who has ordained this season for His purposes and glory.