No Hurry

The last 8 months have been a whirlwind of new things. The latter part of 2018 found me adjusting to a new work schedule, learning the ropes of a new job responsibility, and discovering the wonders of a new relationship before the year said its final goodbyes. And new things mean life as you know it assumed a different identity, packed its bags, and took the last flight to go to a place you can never get to: the past. Suddenly, you are confronted with the unfamiliar present, the delicate art of trying to be acquainted with it, and you want nothing more than to flip to the last page of the book and find out how the story turns out. Impatience.

Challenges and change are always welcome, regardless of how daunting they seem. They may be unnerving, but they can fire you up in ways that nothing else can. The uncertainty, the as yet unanswered questions, and coming to terms with the impact they would have in your life stirs up a passion that the status quo could not accomplish. However, it doesn't mean you won't wrestle with the eagerness to see (right now!) beyond the bend and know what's on the other side of the process. Impatience.

Ten years ago today, I wrote this on my Facebook page: "I feel more and more like Frodo these days in a lot of aspects but mostly because I feel like I'm halfway to Mordor and the desire to go back to the Shire pulls me with a force equal to the desire to press on." When you find yourself in unknown territory, and the road is fraught with things you've never seen or experienced before, it's human to yearn for the soup and cold shower at the end of the journey. And it's not because you didn't want the adventure to begin with or scared about finding yourself in a place stranger than your imagination or insecure about your ability to adapt to the uncommon situations that you may find there but because you are antsy to get to where you want to go the moment you step out of the door. Impatience.

According to Wikipedia, "In psychology and in cognitive neuroscience, patience is studied as a decision-making problem, involving the choice of either a small reward in the short-term, versus a more valuable reward in the long-term. When given a choice, all animals, humans included, are inclined to favor short-term rewards over long-term rewards. This is despite the often greater benefits associated with long-term rewards." This is where the struggle lies: when presented with the attractive option of getting a semblance of the reward NOW. Isn't it tempting to find a more direct, albeit less scenic, way to get to where we want to go? To hit the fast-forward button and skip all the scenes that are littered with tears, anxiety-filled sleepless nights, and disappointments? What have we missed out on by simply indulging our proclivity for instant gratification?

Thankfully God still intervenes. He blocks the easy paths and leads us down the steep and meandering road. The days, that sometimes extended to months, when I thought my head would explode and my heart threatened to shut down, when everything seemed to spin out of control were the days when I discovered the strength I had to hold on. In hindsight, I am grateful that God made me wait 7 years for that thing, 5 years for that other thing, 8 years for yet another thing, 16 years for this new thing, and 23 years (and counting) for all the other things that were promised and have yet to come to pass; God knew what He was (and is) doing.

All those years of learning how to be at peace when I hear a "no" to something I want a "yes" so badly, how to rest in the knowledge that "God's got this!", and how to look forward to the future with a mindset of "He makes all things beautiful in His time", have prepared me for this current season and all the ones that will come after. We all have a lot of growing up to do (I certainly did and still do) and there are no shortcuts to getting the "greater benefits associated with long-term rewards". 

When you arrive... rewarding.