Lately I have been feeling somewhat discouraged and tired – too busy, overcommitted, and behind on everything it feels like, including this blog. How long has it been since I posted? Yeah. Whoops. You get it. Jupiter and Comet turned 18 months at the end of January and while they’re nearing the end of their adolescent period, they’re taking advantage of every moment. Cramped inside all winter, they’ve been annoying each other like there are no consequences to this behavior (spoiler: there are) and it’s been difficult to meet all their physical, emotional, and mental needs each day. We’re doing the best we can, and so are the dogs, but we all cannot wait for the warm weather and the ability to just s p r e a d o u t and enjoy some sunshine and outdoor activities. More positively, back in the fall we purchased our next home, set on a hillside with gorgeous views of NYC, and we’ve been trying to nail down architectural plans for the addition(s) we plan to complete before moving in. But the plans have been hard to draw up: the concept we had in our heads is not translating as well to graph paper as we had anticipated so we’re working our way through, trying to make everything fit while maintaining our vision.

Working on the house has brought up a lot of conversations about the future, and with all of this in my mind over the last six months, looking towards the future has been…stress on top of stress. I’m already too busy with things as they are, let alone trying to think about things that don’t even exist yet. We’d like to have kids sometime, which has come up a lot while working on the house, and that is a whole conversation that worries me too. If raising our two puppies simultaneously has given me any sort of yardstick to understand the logistics of raising a child, it’s a freaking lot of work and time and responsibility, and I worry. I don’t want to commit unless I’m sure that I can do the job justice. And I’m not. I have too many things eating at my time already. Too many things could go wrong. Too many mistakes could be made.

A few weeks ago I was walking our dog Luna and worrying to God about my life: past, present, and future. I listed out all the things that have already gone wrong that feel like they’re undermining the foundation of our future, the things I’m currently dealing with, and all the things I’m worried that might happen in the future and how I didn’t feel capable or strong enough to handle the worst case scenarios. Some problems just don’t seem to have a solution, I said. For the first time in a while, I was actually being totally honest: too frustrated to wrap things up in Christianese or figure out what I thought he wanted to hear. I was just telling him everything.

And clear as day, he said back to me, “You’re too concerned with what you can do, and not concerned enough with what I can do.”

I could end this right here. He was right, as always. I hadn’t really thought about what he could do. I’d thought about it in passing. But I hadn’t considered it. A few of my close friends who knew what was going on in my head had over the winter asked me what promise of God I was holding onto in this season. I hadn’t really thought too much about it until just then, when God stopped me in my tracks. I realized I wasn’t sure what promise I was holding on to. God hadn’t made me any promises about my future specifically. He hasn’t told me anything about what my life will look like in 5, 10, or 15 years.

But as much as I don’t know, there is a lot that I do know but had somewhat forgotten. I know who I have faith in, and where my life is built. It’s not built on what I can accomplish, or how great my marriage is, or who my family is, or how great a parent I can be. My life is set on Jesus, and he never changes. No matter how great or terrible my life is, or how big my worries seem, or how unsolvable a problem feels- he’s there. I wrote this in my journal later:

When the man was born blind-
When Sarai realized she was barren-
When the sick woman ran out of money-
When Moses fled Egypt-
When Lazarus died-
They all though their life was over. That it was the end. They thought there was no more hope.
But God.

My problems aren’t solved (actually not a single problem was resolved). I still have (valid) concerns. I still worry. I’m still stressed and overcommitted and too busy, and my dogs are still annoying each other and longing for warm weather.

But God.

I will end this part one with some verses from Lamentations that I studied in the fall and that I need to remind myself of more often:

Remember my affliction and my wanderings,

the wormwood and the gall!

My soul continually remembers it

and is bowed down within me.

But this I call to mind,

and therefore I have hope:

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;

his mercies never come to an end;

They are new every morning:

great is your faithfulness.

The Lord is my portion, says my soul,

therefore I will hope in him.

The Lord is good to those who wait for him,

to the soul who seeks him.

It is good that one should wait quietly

for the salvation of the Lord.

Lamentations 3:19-26