Lessons Exquisitely Crafted
We're a little more than a year away from graduation, two girls -- women, although it's hard to feel like I fit into that word -- riding in a car on a day when the sky above is startlingly blue, with no cloud anywhere to be seen. And we talk.
There are a lot of things, we both say, that we wish someone had told us before we came to college. We're discussing what our plans are for the summer, what we'll do after we graduate. The conversation wanders all over the place as we drive back to campus from church.
But we wouldn't have known how to listen to it before college, we say. We're trying to make sense of the world we'll be graduating into, and our options. More school? Finding a job? The weight that we should put on what our parents want? What is with the whole idea of "calling"? Willingness to take jobs that are more humble than what we've trained for?
At some point, the choices we make really do have consequences and affect the rest of our lives. I knew that, I guess. It's becoming more apparent. You choose one major and that makes it maybe not impossible, but certainly more difficult to get into other fields that are completely different. You become friends with a group of people, and it opens some doors and closes others. It's not a bad thing, but I'm finding it a kind of bittersweet one.
The ideas bounce around in my mind and I get Vienna Teng's Eric's Song stuck in my head. Not all of it is very applicable to friendships, but some of it is, some of it connects with life. She doesn't quite get it, but she has some pieces of it.
So we just hold on fast
Acknowledge the past
As lessons exquisitely crafted
To carve us as instruments
That play the music of life
It's sometimes very difficult for me to look back at the past and say, Yeah, that was good; God is good. So I loved the reminder in her words that God has had His hands in all of my history, carefully putting pieces of everything together for my good, for His glory.
Knowing that gives me hope for the future.