Trusting God with the future seems so easy when every day is a carbon copy of another.
Routines are your foundation. Your commute is just a zip down the road. You fall into the twists and turns like a skilled race car driver, the bends, the merges. You know them all by heart.
Your coffee mugs are in the same place they've always been, porcelain stacks in the corner cabinet. Like little soldiers ready for your 6 a.m. java roll call.
This stage of life is a little less exciting, but it's predictable. It's comfortable. Your roots are driven into the ground. They are safe. They are protected.
And your'e almost tempted to keep them hidden there forever. Tempted to settle. Tempted to keep things as they are.
But you know that God has so much more in store for you. Eventually.
This season of life kind of like cross-country skiing. You are responsible for driving yourself forward. You create the push. You create the buzz! and the swish! from the blades below gliding beneath you.
Though it's sometimes difficult to see your friends and colleagues swooshing down the hill–propelled by an incline, a natural force wrapping them into the speed of a new career, a new relationship, a shiny new engagement ring, or a growing family, you keep pressing forward.
And this is all-the-more admirable. Because, how much more discipline does it take to propel yourself forward in this stage? To use the momentum of your own two legs to push you across the terrain?
How much more faith does it take to trust that though your life may be a swarm of mere habits and take-for-granteds, that you will accomplish all that you are meant to do?
How much more thankfulness does it take to appreciate a life that seems as though it has possibly plateaued for a time? How worthy are your prayers and worship during this time?
Circumstances change. People change. Jobs change. Relationships change. Nothing stays the same for very long.
Even Especially when seasons are good.
The time for you to stand at the top of an incline and be swelled into a season of change will come. Until then, sweet sisters, keep crossing that terrain. Keep pressing on.
photo credit: Corey Templeton via photopin cc