Light, Trust, and Dreams
Last Monday, in my institute class, my teacher had us go down into the dark, unfinished basement of the institute building. He asked for volunteers to walk into the darkness. I'm not scared of the dark, and it sounded like an adventure, so I volunteered with another girl. We started to walk toward the exit sign on the other side.
This year, I've made many steps into the dark: finishing my undergraduate work; struggling with a broken heart; doing new things; moving out; applying for, choosing, and starting grad school; and preparing to teach a university class.
Now, when I thought that I might just start seeing the light after all of the chaos, I've only found myself in a four years early quarter-life crisis with my future getting more unknown, especially since all of my dreams of scholarship and grad school have become, in the reality, not as significant to me as they'd seemed before: what do I actually want to be? What will I do after this MA? Will there be anything for me to do after this MA? Why does Heavenly Father want me in grad school? What are my dreams? What will my future be like? and so forth... This existential crisis has actually given me silver hairs. War wounds. ;)
As we walked across the dark basement, three things stood out to me:
1) I completely trusted that my teacher wouldn't put us in a situation that's too risky or impossible.
2) While I had no idea what the exit sign led to, it was still a clearly defined light at the end for me to work towards.
3) The little bit of light from behind us would reflect just slightly on surfaces, so I could see little indiscernible points or objects along the way.
He primarily meant for this object lesson to demonstrate how light, namely the Light, can pierce any spiritual darkness. But I think it carried over to my own dark room/unknown:
1) Over these past several months, I have needed to find my trust in God: that He knows what's in the room and wouldn't have led me to it if he didn't think it good or possible for me.
2) I have no idea what's at the end of this next year, or my MA, or these next ten years, but there is a clearly defined light for me to work and progress towards, as I touched on at the close of my last post: the person I need to be, all other things aside, for a celestial and eternal life.
3) My Savior won't leave me in the dark with nothing but an exit sign. As I trust in Him and listen to the Spirit, I can be aware of little things along the way. But I have to trust Him and be patient.
I can't freeze up in my progression, either spiritually or educationally (I have to finish my MA); I have to keep pressing forward. However, I can't rush ahead frantically or jump to conclusions with God's plan, trying to get out of the grey-hair-bringing unknown. I was a little too quick and eager in the institute basement and hit my shin on something. That may happen in life, but ultimately, along this journey, I have to remember to be patient and steady and keep my eyes pealed on the little bits of light reflecting. They may not make complete sense right now, but that's what faith, trust, hope, and patience are for.
The room of my future may seem to be just as dark as before, if not more so, but I'm beginning to wonder if it's actually lightening. Over the past several months, I've been reminded of some of my old dreams I could pursue--such as my thirteen year-old self's desire to write down all of the tales that rattle in my brain or that nine-year old who loved all things medieval (now I'm considering talking to the medievalist to see if I can do a thesis on something related). Regardless, if it weren't for scholarship letting me down, then I suspect I wouldn't allow my future to be so wide open, wondering and trying to patiently and meekly wait for whatever God wills.
Now that I've managed to write all of this, it's time for me to get back to writing my term papers. At least I can be home to do so, with the lights and the decor and the windows to watch the snow.
This year, I've made many steps into the dark: finishing my undergraduate work; struggling with a broken heart; doing new things; moving out; applying for, choosing, and starting grad school; and preparing to teach a university class.
Now, when I thought that I might just start seeing the light after all of the chaos, I've only found myself in a four years early quarter-life crisis with my future getting more unknown, especially since all of my dreams of scholarship and grad school have become, in the reality, not as significant to me as they'd seemed before: what do I actually want to be? What will I do after this MA? Will there be anything for me to do after this MA? Why does Heavenly Father want me in grad school? What are my dreams? What will my future be like? and so forth... This existential crisis has actually given me silver hairs. War wounds. ;)
As we walked across the dark basement, three things stood out to me:
1) I completely trusted that my teacher wouldn't put us in a situation that's too risky or impossible.
2) While I had no idea what the exit sign led to, it was still a clearly defined light at the end for me to work towards.
3) The little bit of light from behind us would reflect just slightly on surfaces, so I could see little indiscernible points or objects along the way.
He primarily meant for this object lesson to demonstrate how light, namely the Light, can pierce any spiritual darkness. But I think it carried over to my own dark room/unknown:
1) Over these past several months, I have needed to find my trust in God: that He knows what's in the room and wouldn't have led me to it if he didn't think it good or possible for me.
2) I have no idea what's at the end of this next year, or my MA, or these next ten years, but there is a clearly defined light for me to work and progress towards, as I touched on at the close of my last post: the person I need to be, all other things aside, for a celestial and eternal life.
3) My Savior won't leave me in the dark with nothing but an exit sign. As I trust in Him and listen to the Spirit, I can be aware of little things along the way. But I have to trust Him and be patient.
I can't freeze up in my progression, either spiritually or educationally (I have to finish my MA); I have to keep pressing forward. However, I can't rush ahead frantically or jump to conclusions with God's plan, trying to get out of the grey-hair-bringing unknown. I was a little too quick and eager in the institute basement and hit my shin on something. That may happen in life, but ultimately, along this journey, I have to remember to be patient and steady and keep my eyes pealed on the little bits of light reflecting. They may not make complete sense right now, but that's what faith, trust, hope, and patience are for.
The room of my future may seem to be just as dark as before, if not more so, but I'm beginning to wonder if it's actually lightening. Over the past several months, I've been reminded of some of my old dreams I could pursue--such as my thirteen year-old self's desire to write down all of the tales that rattle in my brain or that nine-year old who loved all things medieval (now I'm considering talking to the medievalist to see if I can do a thesis on something related). Regardless, if it weren't for scholarship letting me down, then I suspect I wouldn't allow my future to be so wide open, wondering and trying to patiently and meekly wait for whatever God wills.
"Trust in the Lord, and do good.... Delight thyself also in the Lord; and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart. Commit thy way unto the Lord; trust also in him; and he shall bring it to pass. And he shall bring forth thy righteousness as the light, and thy judgment as the noonday. Rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for him: fret not thyself.... But the meek shall inherit the earth; and shall delight themselves in the abundance of peace."
-Psalm 37:3-7, 11This year has been crazy for me. It's seen me at my best and my worst, but I have grown profoundly grateful for it--I have grown in so many ways, have gained different perspectives, have hopefully become better, and have had wonderful moments.
Now that I've managed to write all of this, it's time for me to get back to writing my term papers. At least I can be home to do so, with the lights and the decor and the windows to watch the snow.
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