I haven't blogged in... well, ages. And by ages I mean almost seven months. Seven months! I've been back from Europe for about six months, and I still can't fathom that it has already been half a year. Time flies. In the past seven months I have flown home, ached to be on some other adventure, completed a semester of student teaching and GRADUATED COLLEGE! This would seem to be a great accomplishment, but so far no employers have thought it to be so exceedingly noteworthy that they hired me. This has been the longest amount of time I have lived at home since before I left for college almost five years ago, and although it has been pretty smooth sailing, it hasn't had its lack of challenges. One of the difficulties is that I am not exactly surrounded by close friends. I am forever grateful for my life-long friend Stephanie, and being able to grow with her these past few months has been a sweet gift whose magnitude I will probably not fully comprehend until this season of life changes.
My lack of a consistent job and mountain of friends biding for my time has left me with plenty of time to be idle (although I should be applying for more teaching jobs or working on my online class) and read books. The book I am currently reading is by Elisabeth Elliot and is entitled, "The Path of Loneliness." She has been widowed twice and is intimately acquainted with seasons of loneliness and has learned how to find joy in all circumstances. The number of wise gems in this book is staggering, and in order to better take them to heart and remember their application to my life, I wanted to share a few quotes:
"When the surrender of ourselves seems too much to ask, it is first of all because our thoughts about God are paltry. We have not really seen him, we have hardly tested him at all and learned how good he is. In our blindness we approach him with suspicious reserve. We ask how much of our fun he intends to spoil, how much he will demand from us, how high is the price we must pay before he is placated. If we had the least notion of his loving-kindness and tender mercy, his fatherly care for his poor children, his generosity, his beautiful plans for us; if we knew how patiently he waits for our turning to him, how gently he means to lead us to green pastures and still waters, how carefully he is preparing a place for us, how ceaselessly he is ordering and ordaining and engineering his Master Plan for our good- if we had any inkling of all this, could we be reluctant to let go of our smashed dandelions or whatever we clutch so fiercely in our sweaty little hands?"
My lack of a consistent job and mountain of friends biding for my time has left me with plenty of time to be idle (although I should be applying for more teaching jobs or working on my online class) and read books. The book I am currently reading is by Elisabeth Elliot and is entitled, "The Path of Loneliness." She has been widowed twice and is intimately acquainted with seasons of loneliness and has learned how to find joy in all circumstances. The number of wise gems in this book is staggering, and in order to better take them to heart and remember their application to my life, I wanted to share a few quotes:
"When the surrender of ourselves seems too much to ask, it is first of all because our thoughts about God are paltry. We have not really seen him, we have hardly tested him at all and learned how good he is. In our blindness we approach him with suspicious reserve. We ask how much of our fun he intends to spoil, how much he will demand from us, how high is the price we must pay before he is placated. If we had the least notion of his loving-kindness and tender mercy, his fatherly care for his poor children, his generosity, his beautiful plans for us; if we knew how patiently he waits for our turning to him, how gently he means to lead us to green pastures and still waters, how carefully he is preparing a place for us, how ceaselessly he is ordering and ordaining and engineering his Master Plan for our good- if we had any inkling of all this, could we be reluctant to let go of our smashed dandelions or whatever we clutch so fiercely in our sweaty little hands?"
"Loneliness/singleness/etc is a gift, not merely a condition to be endured."
Elliot talks a lot about how loneliness is not only a gift, but that we can offer it up to God. "The love of God in accepting such an offering is like the love of a father whose little child give him a present bought with money the father gave him. It is a very tender, sympathetic love. It recognizes that the child's loving gift comes out of his utter poverty. The father, who has already given everything, gives something more in order that his child may have something to give."
So sweet. So profound.
"When we, through a willed act, receive this thing we did not want, then Loneliness, the name of the field nobody wants, is transformed into a place of hidden treasure."
"His work in me - his work in a soul is often 'without observation,' a hidden thing like yeast."
"Yet I find that events do not change souls. It is our response to them which finally affects us."
If anyone even reads this, I hope it was as enlightening for you as it was for me.
Tara
