Out of Control

      Sometimes the obscurities of life become overwhelming and it feels like I simply can't get a grip on anything--nothing is in my control and it all seems to be slipping, slipping away. . .like the dream that feels real, but the details of which fade quickly in the light of day.  Try as I might, I can't fit the pieces together to make sense of anything.  My world crumbles around me and I am helpless to stop it.
      In the turmoil, I desire peace--answers to put my mind at ease.  But the more I grasp for answers, the more unsettled I become.  It's when I remember that there is Something bigger than me at work--love, the love of God, the will of God moving and working through me.  This is my anchor of peace.  I always seem to know that it's there, that it's all I need, but living this truth requires being mindful of it constantly--constant trust and surrender in acceptance of the mystery. 
      I've come to find that the journey of faith isn't about what I plan to do with my life or my future.  It is about the becoming, about learning how to know and do and understand God's will in the moments.  It's being my best self and putting forth my best effort in all I do.  It requires practice and patience, but leads to finding joy simply in taking care of life's responsibilities in the present, and responding to everything with love.

"That Christ's love is extravagant means that it is always better to err on the side of hungering too much, rather than too little; better to wear our hearts on our sleeves rather than let them harden from cynicism and despair; better to be willing to let our hunger make us look like fools  than to pretend we have life under control and that our hunger doesn't matter. To love Christ is to suffer the full unanesthetized pain of not being in control, not being able to "make" things go our way, not being able to make the edges of life match up. To attend Mass is to bow to mystery, not certainty."  ~Heather King  (emphasis mine)