in the waiting

I want to write more. write just for the sake of writing, being able to have an outlet for my thoughts. create an archive of brain waves that happened to take the form of words. I've been reading some blog posts from some girls I look up to greatly, and I've been inspired. to come from a place of rawness and unencumbered being-ness to sit plainly as I am before myself, before the Father and just be.

I was thinking this morning how I tend to find that God works through me over time. and perhaps that could be frustrating for many, and indeed it has been frustrating for me at times too, but I felt quite at peace with it today. something about trusting in the long run, not having to worry about getting it perfect in the moment, having to be wise about everything, every time.

I've decided that if my brain really is the small but mighty compartmentalizing, filtered, filing cabinet that I believe it to be, it's going to take some time to sort things. and with the load of information that is thrown at it every day, I ought to give it that. 

I find that often after finishing a book, podcast, or movie, I have a tough time recalling the particulars. I forget characters names, can't quote the parts I highlighted that at one point felt so billboard worthy to me. I can not, well, walk away from a time of ingesting with a profound understanding of how I was and will be impacted. I find instead, that after months of ingesting, I am changed. that parts of everything I consumed has altered slightly or vastly the way I see things, live life, or love others.

like perhaps I am a pot upon a stove. while the chef stands above, slowly adding spices and herbs until I am complete. there is no formula, no pattern. I slowly become.

I hope to come away with reckless abandon of the profound. that perhaps I stray away from my oxymoronic living, sitting back to enjoy the process. to loosen my grips on having it right all the time. I think of a potter on a wheel. what begins as a lump of clay is mixed with water and makes a mess. sometimes the shape isn't apparent for days. the fine details and specifications come with time.

yet morphed and bent with care, my clay heart lies before me on the wheel, anxiously awaiting how the Lord will shape it to be fit in His image.