How do you know?

Even though I've done many things in my life that I'm sure the Lord OK'd, it's still sort of a mystery to me how exactly it is that we know.  A lot of it has to do with feeling of peace we get when we are poised to do something that it seems He's approving of (this isn't the end of a sentence, I can use a preposition if I need to!), but it's sort of a far cry from an exact science.

I've been praying for quite a while about quitting my job.  Recently a few other work-type options seemed to pop up, and then fall through, and I was sort of left without other things to do.  Now, I've had three jobs thus far, the dental assisting (haha, that was an easy job to land, thanks, Dad), the nannying (it was more like babysitting, actually, but hey, I didn't complain), and the insurance job I have now.  Each one was orchestrated of the Lord--I literally had to do nothing to get them, and they each provided what I need, and worked with my schedule exactly just so.  Before I got my current job, the insurance gig, I felt at loose ends.  The nanny thing was no longer an option (full-time school?  What is that all about?), and my grandmother with whom I had been helping frequently had just passed away, so I would no longer be needed there, either.  I remember frantically looking for a job for a while, till an older woman whom I respect very much told me that I should use my time at home to help my mom.

Good point.  I stopped looking for a job, focused on helped my mom at home (it was the start of Hobby Class season, so there was plenty to be done!), and let the job part rest.  Then, a friend of mine told me that she was shortly leaving her insurance job and that if I sent her my resume she'd get me a job there.  I put it off for a few days, and then sent her the resume, only to get (and start!) the job within a week.  I've been there for over a year, and have known for a while now that my time was pretty much up.  But that left the question, what do I do without a job?  Before I had a "real job" I kept very busy, this much is true (my friends with jobs would frequently say that I seemed busier than they were, which I don't understand, because now with my real job I'm busier than ever, but anyhow, that's beside the point), but I was hesitant.  Did I just quit with no prospects; go back to being a stay-at-home daughter and granddaughter?

This past weekend I was in St. Louis.  I was praying about the job situation, because I felt it was just time.  Time to be done, time to move on to whatever else the Lord had for me.  So I decided that I would come home, work a week, and then turn in my resignation on Monday (the upcoming one, the 6th).  Well, on Monday (the one we just had, the 29th), I'd been back at work for about four hours, and all of a sudden I stopped and thought, "Is it now?  Should I quit now?"  Quit, obviously, being code-word for two weeks' notice.  Anyhow, I was in the conference room when I had this thought, and literally stopped in my tracks.  I had no idea what I should do, and actually dropped to my knees on the floor of the conference room, right then and there, and begged the Lord for guidance.  Something told me to wait, so I did.  I got up, finished cleaning off the table in the conference room, and went back to work.

But Wednesday.  That felt like the day.  I had woken up that morning and felt peace.  It was time.  So that day (there's a longer version of the story, but I'll spare you) I talked to my boss and co-worker and explained that I was leaving.  It didn't go so well (again, another story), but the moral of that story is, I'll be here for another two weeks, and then I'll be through.

At that time, I had no idea what I'd be doing.  None.  There are leads on a potential nanny job, but who knows if that'll work out.  I got home for dinner that night, only to hear that my grandfather wasn't doing well, and would perhaps shortly be admitted to the hospital.  We went over and visited with them, and he seemed to be doing fairly well, as did my grandma.

But then yesterday, my grandma had a stroke.  As of right now, I'm not sure exactly what that means for the future, but it means at least some time in physical therapy and other such doctor-related visits.  So we have a grandpa who has kidney failure, and a grandma with a stroke, and a granddaughter who shortly will not have a job.

So I still don't know what I'm doing.  Maybe in two weeks they'll be somehow all better, or maybe they'll be with the Lord.  I don't know what a day will bring forth, but I know that if they still need help in two weeks, I'll be free to help.

It's times like this that make me so incredibly thankful that following the Lord's directives really works.

Anyhow, sorry, I didn't set out to tell this whole lengthy story, but I started writing and this is what came out, so...  well, enjoy!

200

Today is the second day of the month.  Two.  A nice number.  Most especially since today is (drum roll, please) my 200th post!

Can you tell I have nothing to say?

Except that (wait for it!) I gave my two weeks' notice at my job (!) and the Lord immediately gave me something new with which to occupy my time.  I knew He'd provide something.  And I feel peace about it.

So happy December 2, my friends.  May the next two hundred posts find you well, and at peace.

Perfect Peace

Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on Thee: because he trusteth in Thee.  Isaiah 26:3

This morning I woke up and felt peace.  It was a beautiful feeling.  I've been a little stressed about a few things recently, mostly work-related, and I've been waking up early the past few mornings, praying before I'm even awake, but this morning I felt calm.  Happy, as a matter of fact.  It's a good feeling.

Peace, peace (when there is no peace)

I tend to be a person who follows after peace. What I mean by that is that I'm not exactly going to go around picking fights or angering folks at random. I hope. But sometimes my desire to smooth things over is a little extreme.

For instance, if I'm having difficulties with someone, I rarely tell them about it. Literally, almost never would I find myself waltzing up to someone and saying, "Yeah, um, I was offended that you didn't [fill in the blank]." And even with my close friends, whom I love, I don't find it comfortable to tell them that I'm upset about something. I know I'll get over it, so I just say, "Yeah, we're cool," even though NO. YOU'RE NOT.

So I have resolved to be more honest. With my friends, and myself, truth be told, because I say that I'm over something, and sometimes I'm not.

It just feels weird for me to acknowledge that I'm upset about something. I like to be more even-keeled than that. Yuck. But I'll try. For the sake of my friends who do me the honor of being honest with me, I'll extend that courtesy back their way.

Safe

So, I'm not feeling very wordy today. I'm feeling, however, that I love knowing that I'm safe in Christ's care.

Wow. I just had the weirdest feeling ever. I all of a sudden remembered that when my Dad told us that my brother had passed away, he jumped out of the van where we were waiting for news, and (I think) he said to my mom, "He's safe." That's not weird, it made sense (remember when David from the Bible asked if the young man Absalom was safe? I think it was reminiscent of that), but what's weird is... I'm not sure.

Fine, fine, it was six years ago, but the details of that day seemed like things I'd never forget. Sitting on the porch swing for hours, trying to read my book (ironically, Calm My Anxious Heart by Linda Dillow), but being worried sick about what could have happened. Kneeling in the living room, praying with my family for the safety of the members of the family we were worried for. Trying to go through the motions of the day, playing games, making meals, exactly as if we were going to sit down that night like a normal family and have dinner together.

But all of a sudden, I don't quite remember if my dad said those words, "He's safe." I can ask someone and refresh my memory (and I will!) but it's been so far archived in my brain that it's not retrievable with 100% accuracy.

Sorry. Sad moment alert. Good thing I know I'm resting safe in the Father's hand, right?

What's my responsibility?

A question. As a Christian, I am joyful, because Christ lives in my heart. I am truly happy, honestly I am. However, as a person who has to live in this present evil world, I sometimes get caught up in less-than-pleasant things that drag my spirits down. Small things (in light of eternity, anyhow) have a tendency to make me sort of slump down sometimes.

But as a person whose life is lived in light of eternity, and with the world looking on, am I supposed to show that less-than-happy side of me? Is it good, because they're seeing that Christians are humans, too? or is it bad, because I'm not allowing the peace of God to permeate my heart?