Living in the Tension of What is Unseen

I think I alluded to this a post or two ago, but I've been feeling a lot less about our current situation.  Not feeling better...not feeling worse...just...not feeling.  I'm okay with it, although it's a little weird. Sometimes I wonder if I'm just numb or resigned.  I don't think so, but I do wonder.

In any event, it's getting easier to accept what's going to happen in five weeks.  Last night, Mr. Squire and I sat on the couch after work and just talked.  I was happily surprised that he had the energy and mental space to do so, since he is usually a grunting zombie by the end of any given school day.  I asked him whether he would miss the kids, and he said no.  I corrected him, and said that with time, he would reach a point of healing where he would miss the kids.  I know I'm right.

I then asked him if, at the very least, he could leave his school saying that he was proud of the work he did there.  I already know that I'm very proud of the work he has done, but it matters to me that he also sees the value in what he has accomplished over the past two years.  I was relieved to hear him say that yes, he gave it his all, and he stood by his work at this school.  I nodded in agreement and we silently looked ahead into space, remembering.

When we closed the day in prayer, I prayed for all the kids he's leaving behind... for their futures, and for others to pick up the work where Mr. Squire left off, and for them to carry it on well.  These kids need protection.  They need nurturing.  They need a LOT of love.  They are just kids, but many of them know way more than they ought to about gangs, prison, prison rape, death, drugs, and abuse.  We've dealt with late-night phone calls about molestation.  A parent being stabbed to death on the street.  A parent being released from prison.  Absent parents.  These kids are just kids.  But they're not just any kids. They're young black boys who are (mostly) adorable, bright, and promising.  But unless they are provided the right opportunities and supported in the right way, a number of them will be at risk of a devastating future.  I have loved being part of this mission, and finally I'm able to pray about those we leave behind without crying.  Part of that is God working on my heart to help pull me away from this work.  Part of that is God working on my heart to help me understand who He is.  He doesn't need us here.  He can use all sorts of people.  I pray that He does.  

And as for us?  I hope Mr. Squire returns to teaching one day.  Perhaps in the future, perhaps after we've raised our own kids.  Perhaps in another place, at another time.  If not now, then later.  If not our way, then another way.  

* * *

I received the following message from my dear sister C a couple days ago.  Her thoughts and words moved me, as they are consistent with what we've been hearing in the sermons lately, and from other godly counselors in our lives.  I felt God speaking to me through her, saying:

Your situation reminds me of Moses during his wandering period.  He thought God had called him to be the leader of his people.  After all, hadn't God saved him from birth miraculously through the little river cradle and had the Egyptian princess of all people adopt him so he could learn everything he needed to be a good leader?  Why then was he stuck in the middle of nowhere in Midian, tending sheep like some hermit, cast out from Egypt and isolated from his people?  What was all that for?  I forget exactly, but I believe Moses spent the majority of his life doing nothing more than humbly tending sheep.  I think he was called by God through the burning bush until he was 80 years old.  80 years old?!  That's retirement age--not time for your 'real' career to start. 

So what was it all for?  Why the long period of 'fallowness'?  I think it has something to do with the shaping of Moses' heart.  It says that Moses was the most humble man who ever lived.  I'm pretty sure being 'forgotten' in the wilderness doing nothing more important than tending sheep for 40+ years will rub away a lot of pride.  I suppose he was learning to wait on God.  That what matters to God is his heart more so than his actions.  That God desires obedience more than sacrifice, a contrite and broken heart more than external acts.  And then, after learning this hardest of all lessons, he was indeed ready for the task.
I don't know what exactly God is preparing you and [Mr. Squire] for.  But I know it is something good and purposeful--even when it looks like nothing but wilderness wanderings.  I've been praying for you and will keep praying for you.  This is the hardest part of faith--living in the tension of what is unseen.

* * *

So...God is shaping our hearts, huh?  That sounds right.  I've always been a ten-year plan kind of gal.  Goes right along with my type-A, semi-OCD personality.  Gotta have my grubby little hands on every little detail and have things just so.  And now? Well...when people ask me how long I plan to stay at my job, or where we're going to live in five years, where we'll raise our kids, what I want to do with the rest of my life...well... I just say, "I have no idea.  We'll see what God does."  Right now I say that out of sheer helplessness.  But maybe, one day, as a result of all of this (and more), I'll say it by choice. 

A Place in the Sun

Memorial Day weekend was a tremendous gift.  A very busy, jam-packed gift--one filled with law school friends, Mr. Squire's friends, family, our "business partners," LOTS of good food, and visiting places that are special to us.  It was a precious reminder of all that God has gifted us with, and great cause for thanks.

Below are some pictures from the weekend--but not nearly enough to cover all the many goings-on!

We started in New Jersey after work on Friday.  There, we picked up a car from Mr. Squire's older brother, then headed to El Unico, our favorite Cuban hole-in-the-wall in New Jersey.  We spent many a meal here when Mr. Squire was unemployed several years ago.  The prices have since gone up a bit--but jumping from $2.50 to $4 for a huge platter of chicken, rice & beans, plantains, and garlic yucca is a price we are more than happy to pay.  The folks here recognize Mr. Squire by now (and once tried to upsell him from plantains to an apartment!), and it's a blessing to revisit Sr. Cruz and the crew whenever we are back in the area.  (We returned to El Unico today upon returning the car, and Sra. Cruz connected Mr. Squire to another NYC educator who is a regular at the restaurant and who also happened to be dining there today.)

We drove to Boston and stayed with Riley, one of Mr. Squire's close friends from college.  Riley was an incredibly gracious host...and even stocked up on a nice-sized watermelon in anticipation of our visit because he remembered that Mr. Squire liked watermelon a lot.  They used to live together in New Jersey several years ago, and Riley recalled that Mr. Squire used to buy a lot of watermelon.  Little did Riley know that while Mr. Squire indeed likes watermelon a lot...I LOVE watermelon!  And all those watermelons Mr. Squire bought?  Yeah...those were for me.  He would buy them on sale in New Jersey, then lug them by bus and then by train to my apartment on the Upper East Side.  What a winner, right??

Here's some of the watermelon we ate...

Even better than the watermelon, of course, was the company.  Riley and Mr. Squire have a very special friendship...one that includes shared values and interests, and lots of pranks, like the whoopee cushion that Riley planted under the bathroom mat during our visit.  :)  Thankfully, we've seen Riley quite a bit this past year during his occasional travels to New York.  It's always a treat to watch him and Mr. Squire interact with one another.

We visited Harvard, our alma mater, decked out in commencement season glory.  Both of us ended up at Harvard by surprise...God must have intended it, because neither of us ever planned for it. And it's in this place--this allegedly "godless" place--that God grew both of us in our faith and faith community.  We have fond memories of this place.

The chief reason why we were in Boston this weekend was for the wedding of my dear law school friend, GR.  May God use him mightily as he returns to China to proclaim God's word to his fellow countrymen.  Truly GR's is a heart forcefully and fully won over for Christ.  

While at the wedding, I had the happy fortune of reuniting with two of my close law school friends--Eric and Bumbleberry, and their female counterparts.  We also got to hang out with Jeff, our IV staff worker, and a couple other folks with whom we shared law school life.  :) 

On Sunday, we attended Mr. Squire's old church and met with Enoch, the pastor who married us, and two of his kids.  Every conversation with Pastor Enoch is a gift.  He is truly an honorable and humble servant of Christ, one who reflects Jesus in so many ways--in his role as pastor, counselor, father, husband, friend.  He has been faithful in praying for us since taking us through premarital counseling, and we are so so thankful to have been under his care.  We respect him so deeply, and wish so strongly that we could learn marriage and parenting from him and his wife firsthand as a member of their flock.  That's not where God has us, but we truly long for them and rejoiced at the opportunity to reunite again.

We ate at DK, one of Simon's favorite places in Boston Chinatown (which is way better than New York's!), and then hit Maria's pastry shop, the BEST in the North End.  I love these pistachio and amaretti cookies, and we bought a bunch of them.  So pricey, but... we never have the opportunity to get them, so..we splurged a bit.  Some for us, and some to share!

Anyone who knows me that I adore blue flowers.  You can only imagine how excited I got about these blue irises near the North End.  So glorious!

20% of our Denver team, Gary & Jodi, also happened to be in town.  Riley, Gary & Jodi, the Squires, and seven other families are going into a ministry and business venture together.  It was so fun to finally meet Gary in person and to talk shop with 45% of them team!

Back at home, we caught up with my parents by phone, met up with Mr. Squire's parents (another amazing pair of people in our life -- they have blessed us and continually bless us), had another round at El Unico, ate mango bars on the Hudson River, hung out with my friend from China who is staying with us, and hosted more of Mr. Squire's college friends for dinner in Brooklyn.  We enjoyed the incredible weather with a walk in our backyard on the East River...and baked a fruit tart together...

Not all days are like this.  And the past while has been a pretty shadowy way.  The Lord blessed us with a weekend in the sun, a weekend of experiencing His pure favor.  We are so blessed and thankful.

Being Still, Being Quiet

About two weeks ago, I had a total meltdown about Mr. Squire's exit from teaching.  It involved anguished prayers, a sleepless night, and a crying hangover the next day.  

Gradually since then, the pain and hurt has subsided considerably.  I find myself just...not thinking about it so much.  Not stressing about it, and maybe kind of even beginning to accept it.  It's weird.

At first I thought I was just tired of thinking about it, so my brain and heart automatically disengaged.  But that's not really like me.

Then I thought it was because I can see, day after day, how hard it is for Mr. Squire to go to school.  He is totally dragging, and it is so sad to see.  It seems there's no joy, only strained grasping and crawling slowly and painfully toward the finish line.  Then, at the end of the day, he is a total zombie.  I speak, and he barely hears.  Even when he hears, he often lacks the emotional or mental capacity to understand.  I can't imagine another year of this either, so I can see this being part of the explanation. 

But looking back on the last couple weeks, I think I know what really happened here.  Following the meltdown, several sisters emailed to check in on me, and I had a long talk with my big brother and sister.  I received an encouraging card from them, too, and from my mom.  I was surrounded by prayers from people who were fighting the fury on our behalf, approaching God and asking for peace for us.  And...it seems...God has given it, at least for now.  (I'm kind of holding my breath.)

Usually I'm on the giving side of prayer, just because I enjoy it so much, find tremendous strength in it, and have the gift of remaining faithful and steady in praying for others.  I love to pray.  This time, though, I'm definitely on the receiving end of prayer, and wow...this is what it can feel like?? Pretty amazing.  I've been able to be still, be quiet, and rest.  To resume a position of trust and expectation in what God has in store next.  It's still not easy, but it's a lot easier these days.  

Reunions

It's been a weekend full of reunions. 

In 2008, two friends (GR - a native Chinese, and Bumbleberry - an Egyptian Canadian) and I took a monthlong trip through China, visiting universities and orphanages and house churches in Beijing (and going to the Olympics); taking an overnight train in a sleeper car across the wide expanses of country; biking and horse-back riding through the mountains and alongside rivers in Lijiang; visiting the stone forest and beaches and living the everyday everyman's life in Kunming; and visiting my dearest law-school friends in Hong Kong.  

During the week in Kunming, we stayed with GR's relatives, GuGu and GuFu, an older couple in their late sixties.  I had never experienced such hospitality, and it was awe-inspiring.  GuGu and GuFu didn't have much: they had two bedrooms in their humble apartment.  When the three of us came in, they moved out to another relative's apartment so we would have a place to stay.  And every morning, GuGu returned to the apartment and cook us breakfast.  I got up to putter around with her in the kitchen, gradually learning to comprehend her nanfang guo yu (Yunnan accent).  During the day, GR, Bumbleberry, and I hung out with LR, a college student and family friend of GR's.  Together with LR's family, we traveled to various parts of Kunming, or just hung around the neighborhood, watching chickens as they were carted around on bicycles or as large wheelbarrows full of green beans were carted by.  When we returned home, GuGu was hard at work, making homemade dumplings or noodles or some other delicious meal.  We helped out some, but the lion's share of the work was already done.  More family and friends gathered in that tiny apartment for dinner--all somehow in honor of us, their American/Canadian friends--and then we spent the rest of the evening watching the Olympics while nibbling on gigantic pomelos.

I haven't seen GuGu in five years.  But GR is getting married, AND he is graduating from Harvard with his SJD degree.  So, of course, the entire family came from China to celebrate.  We had dinner together in Chinatown on Friday.  GuGu looked more or less the same, except she's got a fancy new coif: "I permed my hair because I was coming to see all of you!" she said.  Also in tow were GR's parents, his other aunt and uncle, his brother (whom I had also met in Beijing), his best friend from high school, and of course, his fiancee.  It was so good to see all of them, some for the first time, some for the first time in years (I hadn't even seen GR since our own wedding two years ago).  At times, dinner was awkward; between the language barrier and their jet lag, plus the sheer size of the group, sometimes it felt like there wasn't much to say.  Or perhaps, there was too much to say, but not enough decompression of time to let it all out.  In either event, it felt like a family gathering, and I was reminded of how sweet friendship can be.  It doesn't have to be talkative or highly interactive; sometimes, it's sufficient to be present.

Part 2 of Reunions to follow.

Reflections

Well, I'm certainly uncomfortable, Lord,

Squirming under Your watchful eye--

Your loving, concerned, parental eye--

but I swear I saw a flash of judgment.

(Or was that just what I saw in the mirror?)

I'm learning 

in yet another way

that You give and You take away

I've seen You give

and take away

young, young lives:

husband, son, brother (Christian, 34)

sister (Sonia, 22)

friend (Adam, 32)

and others, loved by friends,

given to the world

then lost to war, cancer, freak accidents

in each case, we mourn

cry

grieve

fall to our knees

wonder 

what might have been?

what they might have otherwise done?

had You not seen fit to take them away

sooner than we thought

earlier than we expected

I'm learning 

in yet another way

that You give and You take away

Now I have seen You give

and now I have seen you take away

dreams:

in the shadow of hand-to-hands

red ribbons on every door except...the ominous few

where eleven-year-olds already know

...not to "pick up the soap"

...whose daddy was stabbed to death

...why it's important not to seek revenge

...what the real hard life is like...

I always thought there existed a better tomorrow

somewhere in the future.

And we could reach it, and all the hard days sown

would meet their rich harvest.

Kids, now grown,

living hope.

Except not. 

So now I find...

I mourn

cry

grieve

fall to my knees

wonder 

what might have been?

what might we have otherwise done?

had You not seen fit to take us away

sooner than we thought

earlier than we expected

"You give and take away

You give and take away

My heart will choose to say

Lord, blessed be Your name..."

May it truly be so.

What the Daughter Got for Mother's Day

Not what the daughter got for the mother for Mother's Day... what the daughter got on Mother's Day:  her favorite peanuts, a random assortment of tea, and...Neosporin (for no reason)!  

Mommy didn't send me all that many care packages when I was in college, although my brother did.  But as I've gotten older, she's begun to send me more and more of them.  Mostly they contain some combination of cards, dried fruit, various types of nougat, chocolates, and snacks.  And Ann Taylor gift cards--for no reason, except that I'm her daughter, and now that I am officially unspoilable, she wants to spoil me.  Occasionally she sends oddball (but super-delightful!) stuff like...tortilla chips, Red Lobster cheddar bay biscuit mix, and...the new winner, Neosporin.  Where does one go about finding a mother like this?

Mr. Squire and I are looking forward to starting a family soon.  We've been talking about it for a while, so I'm getting used to the idea of being a mom...kind of.  I'm not really all that fond of children (although particularly bright children amuse me, especially if they are also obedient and do not drool or get their grubby hands all over everything).  And to be honest, children don't appear to be all that fond of me.  (Mr. Squire, on the other hand, is a child magnet!)  

But I do look forward to being a mom, because I hear that people tend to love their own children regardless of their lack of affinity to other people's children.  And I have a great example to follow in my own mom. She didn't do everything perfectly, and there are a few gigantic mistakes she made along the way.  I expect the same will certainly be true for me.  But I look forward to mimicking the things she did really well, like instilling in us (my brother and me) the reality of God and her true affections for Him; continually teaching us about Jesus and pointing to Him as our sole source of blessing; praying for us daily, from birth to the present; explaining our wrongs in detail before punishing us, so we learned how to accurately tie behaviors to consequences; taking time to tutor us academically at home to build our confidence for performing well in school; being honest about her own failures and trials, instead of hiding them from us, so we could learn from them and not repeat her mistakes; bringing us to soup kitchens at a young age so we would learn the importance of serving the poor; showing great compassion as we encountered difficulties and hurts; and...baking lots of goodies, and in doing so, proving that any great recipe can be mastered. 

Happy pre-Mother's Day to Mommy.  I am so thankful for her.  God is good.

Tender Mercies

These past few days, and particularly yesterday, I experienced a shower of tender mercies from God.  

...news from Korea that now-three-year-old Lizzy will undergo her final surgery before declaring freedom from cancer.  Just 18 months ago, we friends and family around the world began frantically praying and fasting for the little girl with an inoperable brain tumor and for her parents, who had begun saying their goodbyes to their daughter upon advice from the doctors.  She had two months to live then.  She is living now, following a miraculous and medically inexplicable disappearance of her tumor.  What rejoicing!

...a completely random email from a woman in Texas with whom I connected in January upon the advice of one of our church elders.  She is a lawyer at a large-ish firm down there, and a sister in Christ.  We connected in January, then lost track of each other.  Yesterday, she emailed to say that I had been on her heart for some reason, and would I like to talk?  Would I ever!  As I read her email, I was overcome by emotion:  God is paying attention to me.  Like, for real paying attention to me.  And even calling parts of His body down in Texas to come attend to my bruised spirit.  Really, Lord??

...words of encouragement from a dear sister in an email, pointing out the ways in which she sees God working through me in other people's lives, regardless of what work I'm doing during the day.  These reinforce other words of encouragement I received from other sisters in previous days.  I think God is trying to tell me something.  It's still unsatisfactory to my ears, but I am getting the message that I am not completely disappointing Him, and that is a comfort.

...a special card from my brother, who is so faithful in writing to me.  Usually he sends me the same Christmas card over and over and over (it's a family joke), but he actually bought a different card for me this time--one with specific words of encouragement. And he filled the card with his hurried scrawl of unhurried thoughts and words and prayers.  I am so thankful for my big brother.  

...letters from the college student we sponsor in Brazil. I hadn't gotten around to reading the two that came in last week, but sat down to read them last night.  She is a freshman in college and growing, growing, growing like a weed in her spiritual and academic walk.  What a privilege to be able to support her financially through college and to exchange letters of encouragement. She asked me in her most recent letter, "What are some of the challenges you face in walking with God?"  To have this type of conversation with a college student is an absolute joy.

...beautiful weather and time to take an evening walk with Mr. Squire to get grapes from the local fruit and veggie store.  It's the simple things.  A peaceful, harmonious, joyful marriage is the crowning blessing of my day-to-day life.

...opportunities to hang out with two of our paralegals on the train ride home.  I had intended to catch up on work on the way home, but God filled the time with people interaction instead.  These kids are preparing for their LSATs and law school and were hungry for advice and encouragement. I've walked that road before and I know it well.  Sure, I missed out on billing .3 hours of time on the train, but... God gave me the opportunity to love well the people that He's given me for now.

This is many mercies for one day.  I hear You, Lord.  I see that You are watching.  I feel that You care.  I sense that You are concerned for me.  I thank You for Your attention, and pray that I would trust more and more in Your love and plan.  

If not now, then later.  If not our way, then a better way. - Dr. Timothy Keller

Morning Reflections

It's morning... and this is usually the time of day when I'd be slowly making my way through Isaiah and the accompanying Matthew Henry commentary... but this morning, God has seen fit to allow an ocular migraine into the picture, so I have this annoying shimmering thing in my right field of vision that makes it difficult to focus on reading.  About ten minutes ago, it was in my central field of vision (where it usually occurs), and that would make it impossible to do anything on the computer, but since it's on the side now, I can tap out a quick reflection.

The sermons at church these last few weeks have been about Exodus and in particular, Moses.  I love Moses.  He is one of my absolute favorite Biblical characters.  He lived an amazing life because He walked with God for the vast majority of it.  He saw God perform miracles in his presence, from the burning bush to crossing the Red Sea, to winning battles with an outstretched arm, to eating manna from heaven and obtaining water from a rock.  He also had the patience to endure the desert for 40 years and another 40 years leading a stubborn people through the wilderness.  I can't imagine having his type of patience.  Of course...the Bible tells us that he really wasn't all that patient, and often pleaded with God for a change in his circumstances.  Sometimes God relented, and sometimes He didn't.  And in the end, he made a hero out of Moses.

I don't need to be Moses, in that... I don't need to be a hero.  But I would like to experience the same type of walking with God, the same level of obedience to God, the same closeness of encounter with God.  In the relatively recent past I have often been stricken with discouragement and sometimes despair.  But I know God has been speaking to me through people, speaking to me through His word, speaking to me through the sermons, assuring me that He is in control, and that is a good thing.  And He may require me to wait, and He may change His plans, and He probably won't tell me about it until the last minute.  And...that's just something I need to learn to accept.  I need to grow in my trust in Him.  God has been faithful before, and He will be faithful again.  The pastor talked yesterday about how God often waits for long periods of time, but when He calls us into action, He can move very quickly--in an instant--and call for our immediate response.  I have experienced this before--several times--and I know that it is true.  I am excited for it to happen again, and I am eager to know what this desert was for.

In the meantime, I'd like for my prayers to focus now on:

• remembering that God is my boss at work and in life
• learning to shed my fear of man...learning to remember that God is my only judge
• unclenching my fists daily and opening my heart for whatever God may call me to do...being fully open-handed and open-hearted (and I guess open-minded, while we're at it)
• doing well the work that He has given me now, with a good attitude
• loving well the people He has given me now, with a good attitude
• being patient, being trusting, being hopeful

My shimmering thing is now gone.  Bye-bye, ocular migraine.  Ready to start out the day, go forth in God's strength and make it a good one.

The Bright Side of Working on a Weekend

My wonderful Mr. Squire, keeping me company...for six hours in the office on a Sunday before church.  

I keep telling myself...it won't always be this way.  

But in the meantime, God is providing good mercy along the journey.

Letting Go

Last night before going to sleep, Mr. Squire and I had a conversation that made me very sad.  

We recounted how difficult his last four years of teaching have been--both for him as a teacher, and for me as the girlfriend/fiancee/wife of a teacher who was constantly wiped out and in need of endless cheering up and encouragement--and how it is clearly time for him to go.  We remembered how excited he had been to leaving the banking world behind and go back to school to get his masters in education--and how the masters program turned out to be a huge disappointment.  We recalled the struggles he has had in each of the three inner-city middle schools at which he taught in Boston and here in Brooklyn.  His stint at each school began with such anticipation and promise...and left him totally exhausted and drained.  

When I go before God to talk about these things, I don't know what to say.  I am confused about why God would call Mr. Squire to education, only to allow the last four years of misery to take place.  I am curious about what the real point of this whole exercise was.  I am deeply disappointed that it appears we have nothing to show for the last four years of sacrifice.  And the last four years of sacrifice were not only filled with Mr. Squire's efforts; they were also filled with mine.  Virtually no one sees how tough it is to be the spouse of this type of teacher.  I know God sees it.  And I had persevered, mostly with joy, for the past four years, always holding out hope that things would get better...and that the harvest of reward (i.e. reaching many more inner-city kids with quality education) would follow.  I knew we did this for justice, and justice is worth it.  Shining God's love into kids' lives is worth it, I thought.  But...that's not how things have turned out.  And it hurts.  

Then there was the second half of last night's conversation.

If God calls kids, He called me.  Or so I thought.  Now I question everything, including whether my ability to hear God's voice is actually just my own ability to imagine fantastical things.  How scary is it to conflate the two?!  

Here I am, on the other side of literally two decades of focused study, work, and professional preparation:  valedictorian of my high school, straight A's in college (except for one AB), an Ivy League law education, three years at a big firm, and a federal clerkship.  Not to mention the economic discipline of saving for law school since before reaching double-digit age, putting myself through college and law school, then repaying all the loans that came with that endeavor.  And all the while, sitting like a duck among geese in terms of lifestyle because I'm still waiting--I'm STILL WAITING!--to transition to the that which I thought God had called me.

What does one do when one discovers that the bulk of her life's work has no clear purpose?  I don't know what everyone else does, but at this moment, this particular one is weeping on the inside (and sometimes on the outside).  Deep down, I mourn.  I mourn the loss of a dream.  I mourn the feeling that I have been chasing a mirage (for decades, no less), only to discover that it actually is a mirage.  I mourn the loss of hearing God's voice--or worse yet, the realization that perhaps I never heard it at all.

Then mourning turns to fear.  If I didn't hear God's voice before, what the heck have I been doing all my life?  And what should I do moving forward? How can I cut my losses?  How can I make things right and put myself on the right path again?  

Fear turns back to confusion... I have seen (or have I?) God provide all along, opening the right doors--doors that appeared out of nowhere, doors not of my own creation.  I have seen Him guide me (or have I?) through paths I could not have imagined.  The path seemed so ordained as it was being cut out, and I followed in wonder, knowing that God threshed out a path for me (or did He?).

Confusion turns back to fear.  My biggest fear is that I will waste my life, die and go to heaven, and God will reveal to me that I didn't do what He had designed me to do during my time on Earth.  That thought devastates me.  Nothing makes me feel worse.  

I'm totally at my wit's end.  I'm not in a bad place, looking from the outside in (and even from the superficial inside looking out).  But in the spiritual sense, I feel weak and pitiful, shriveled up and cast down.  What I need--I think--is to let go.  Let go of the past, let go of the things I thought, let go of the dream, let go of the vision, let go of TWENTY YEARS OF WORK.  And just walk, one foot in front of the other, and pray for God to do what He will.  Let my life not be a waste. Forget about the rest... right now, that's all I ask.