I have not written since Spring Break, and I think it's been because of my subconscious need to savor and use every single moment of these final weeks of school. Most of my fellow seniors are thrilled to graduate, and I've had multiple younger students tell me they're incredibly jealous. I have to admit it: it's hard for me to understand how they feel. I have been incredibly blessed in my college years. I have met the dearest, most incredible friends a person could ever have. I have found a uniquely amazing, beautiful church body that really feels like home. I am fortunate to be studying two of my greatest passions in life, literature and dance, so even most of my academics are enjoyable. I get to volunteer with an organization that does really meaningful, valuable work to help the needy in my city. I have gotten to travel to some of the most breathtaking places on earth. And let's face it...college students may complain about their schedule, but in my opinion, classes and homework allow way more freedom and flexibility than a 9 to 5 job. But my university life is coming to an end, and it scares me to think that all my rhythms of life and all the familiar people and places may soon be gone. I start to feel desperate to cling on to everything that is safe and comfortable. It scares me to have a blank future after graduation day....as of now, I have no job, no plans, and no idea where I'll be living.Here's the thing, though....God is good, and my future is not blank to Him. A lot of my recent days have been consumed by trying to figure out the right balance/tension between being proactive and being patient about my life. On one of the recent sunny days, as I was feeling anxious about figuring things out, I sat outside in the grass and watched a sparrow fluttering around me for a long time. I was reminded of when Jesus says that not a single sparrow falls to the ground apart from the Father's will. This sounds silly, but I suddenly realized that the little sparrow I was watching could DO absolutely nothing to be "useful" in the sense I often try to be....she could not get a meaningful job, she could not be an amazing friend, she could not communicate the gospel to anyone, she could not help the poor and the needy....yet God watches over her and knows her every wing flutter.
I can't do anything to make Him love me more or care more about me than He already does. I can't save the world; in fact, I have realized over the past week that I can't save even one person, no matter how much I want to do it on my own. And I certainly can't save myself. I can't justify my existence through a good job or good works or a good marriage. All I have to do is rest, trust, and live my life one day at a time, as the sparrow lives hers. That's grace, in all its mysterious and difficult-to-accept beauty. Grace to live and to move and to just simply be.
