Wanderings Not Wasted

Learning Trust from Looking Back

My Dear Lovelians & Lifers,

I have mentioned before how much I love to watch it rain. Springtime is such a beautiful time of year I don’t mind the humidity as much as I did before. Perhaps thoughts of exotic rainforests also aid this new tolerance. The planet is such a fascinating place full to bursting of unique wildlife with purposes all their own; more than just flying around and whistling or scurrying up trees I mean.

Original image credit to Sandro Antonietti

The more I learn, the more I crave wandering and witnessing the world for myself, all in the places nobody goes. One of my greatest joys in walking with God is experiencing the world He created. I am no thrill seeker by any means nor much of an outdoorswoman when it comes to activities like kayaking or hiking. My preference usually lies in finding a remote place and spending the afternoon taking in my beautiful surroundings by wandering, sketching, writing or the occasional photography practice. Though I am not totally averse to all outdoor activities; next weekend marks my very first camping trip, which I never would have considered without the encouragement of the amazing young adults at my church I have come to know and love.

This past year, I have been slowly but steadily pulled out of my comfort zone, and while this does arouse anxious thoughts, it also stirs something else, an emotion I have not felt in years with the coming of newness – excitement.

I have wandered in the world closer to three decades now, and He continues to amaze me both with what He has already created and what He continues to create in the lives of His people.

After all this time, I can now confidently affirm my understanding that He does not waste my wanderings. I’ve never been lost, per say, as my compass needle resolutely points North, but Aimless kept me company for a spell. Only recently I kissed Aimless goodbye and befriended Assurance. Now, rather than becoming restless whenever I feel directionless, I seek His presence and ask Him to reveal something new and wonderful to make my heart come alive. Sometimes all it takes to rekindle the spark of life is perspective.

I hope I don’t sound too churchy. I’m just so thankful to serve a God who does not waste a moment of my wandering. The minute understanding falls into place doors open. Okay, slight exaggeration, but I’ve had doors open the very day thoughts clicked inside my mind.

He doesn’t waste tears either. Some days, it’s hard to believe Life is a neutral party in all its happenings and not out to get me. I believe with all my heart every treacherous road I’ve walked the past few years, especially recently, leads to life. I have to. My Jesus knows the deep desire of my heart to live well. He knew it before I did, even while my anxious imagination daydreamed of becoming a hermit and giving up on people and the world outside the safety of my four walls.

Trust Me... Trust Me... He continues to plead with my heart. And you know, I think I finally do. At least, until He needs to convince me again. At the same time, I know I would not be where I am without the miracle that is modern medicine. After years of trying, I know my brain is simply not capable of calming itself down without it. Even the mildest dose is enough for me, on a good day. I admit, the last couple weeks have been a bit of a stress battle for me with the end of the school year and all the little events and gradebook additions I fear forgetting. But this changes nothing. I am not as desperate as I once was, and I trust summer will calm life down once more.

I have learned to think of the mind like the rest of the human body. Just as some people are born with deficiencies, abnormalities, or physical defects that require aid like supplements, surgery, or prosthetics to operate properly, so do brains. As I take care of my physical body, so should I care for my mind.

Until next time friends! Next letter won’t be such a long time coming.

You have my Sword,

Olivia

P.S. I want to make a mushroom hat. I kind of regret not buying one from the Renaissance Fair.