the waiting game.

On my way over here (makes it sound like I drove to my blog or something), I didn’t realize that I talked about impatience in my last entry (if you can call one paragraph “talking about impatience”). Impatience is on my mind again. I must be the most impatient person there is. I’ve realized lately that it is nearly impossible for me to enjoy the moment or “seize the day” because I am constantly looking forward, wondering what I will do in the future, where I will go, who I will be with.

Not long ago I was at the beach with a friend. We watched the sun fall below the horizon and wash the sky with plum and gold while we dug our feet into the sand. A breeze carried murmurs of conversations (and a Taylor Swift song from a few spots down…the only thing that marred this experience) and the sound of waves finishing their laps at the shore. I felt compelled to immerse myself in the moment and take in all the details, breathe the air in until it hurt, remember everything. It would only be fifteen minutes until the sky grew dark. Fifteen minutes.

Instead of taking everything in, I noticed strangers I was jealous of. I thought about how I don’t live close to the beach and how I wish I did. I worried about my future. I wondered if I would ever get a stable job. Then I chastised myself for how I would eventually look back on this moment and wish I hadn’t worried about these things.

That’s how it goes. I keep looking forward, but when I get forward, I look back. I’m not satisfied with what I have. I don’t know how to enjoy a moment. I don’t know how to be thankful just for today, and the fact that I have today, that I’m breathing and walking and functioning normally (I guess “normally” depends on how you look at it, but for the most part, yeah — normally). I act like I have years and years ahead of me when I have no idea how many years I have, or if I even have that long. I could be gone in two months. I could be gone tomorrow. What then? I die wishing I had more, that I were somewhere else?

Every time I leave home I am reminded of how much I take for granted. My family, the familiarity of my surroundings, the people I associate with, my friends, my routine. I don’t want to take these things for granted anymore. I don’t want to take anything for granted anymore. I want to live fully in the here and now and trust God for today.

The same friend who accompanied me to the beach said something the other day that struck me. “Stop worrying TODAY.” Not tomorrow; not a week from now; not when I feel ready. TODAY.

Earlier this afternoon I flipped over to Psalm 25 since, well, today’s the 25th and I like reading Psalms and Proverbs that correspond to the day. I can’t tell you how much this passage encouraged me.

³Indeed, none of those who wait for You will be ashamed;
Those who deal treacherously without cause will be ashamed.

⁴Make me know Your ways, O LORD;
Teach me Your paths.

⁵Lead me in Your truth and teach me,
For You are the God of my salvation;
For You I wait all the day.

Later in 25 comes the part that I’ve been memorizing, that, oddly enough, I had totally forgotten was in Psalm 25 — it’s so cool how God works these things.

¹⁷The troubles of my heart are enlarged;
Bring me out of my distresses.

¹⁸Look upon my affliction and my trouble,
And forgive all my sins.

¹⁹Look upon my enemies, for they are many,
And they hate me with violent hatred.

²⁰Guard my soul and deliver me;
Do not let me be ashamed, for I take refuge in You.

²¹Let integrity and uprightness preserve me,
For I wait for You.

Lord, teach me to be patient.