New opportunities, new blessings, and questions.

     It's 9:38am and I'm standing in our dining room looking out at the lake. My dad offers to drive me into town, "cuase you've got your hat on", referring to my Ben and Jerry's ball cap that sports my name tag on a colorful tie dye pin. "That's alright, I think I'll walk down".

     My hair is braided and ready with all my flyaways tucked beneath the rim of my hat as I make the 7 minute walk to the scoop shop. Upon entering I am greeted by Jamie, perhaps the kindest boss ever. He's busy defrosting the ice cream cases and singing along with the reggae radio station. I get to work sweeping and setting up the chairs, often whistling while I work. Once I have my apron on, I'm official. With my apron on, I can greet people with the enthusiasm that characterizes my friendships, I can connect with people of diverse backgrounds, climb out of my shell and be someone that I'm not--or maybe it's actually someone that I am, but a part of me that's only just been revealed. I love to be good at my work and to do it well. Even when I'm exhausted because I've worked the long shift and can't stand a minute longer, I want to mop the floor with all the strength  that I have left. 

     The atmosphere is kind and loving. My bosses are considerate of me and are always asking how I'm doing. We were carrying a bunch of boxes down to the basement and at one point Jamie asked for a particular box, "but if it's too heavy, don't carry it."  (It wasn't too heavy, at least it's not now that I've been getting daily arm workouts scooping ice cream). Ally, Jamie's wife, calls me "baby girl" and Jamie refers to me as "my dear".

    I just don't get it. How is it that I have been so blessed? I feel like I don't have the right perspective on things yet, because I'm almost more able to accept suffering and pain (perhaps because I feel like I deserve it or am used to it) and yet when blessings come, I just can't reconcile my "good fortune" with the hardships that have happened in my life and the hardships being endured by others around the world. Perhaps I'm a bit masochistic...no pain, no gain. Maybe I'm afraid that if I have something really good it will get taken away from me. I don't mean to be sob-storyish, but for the most part, good things that I've had seem to disappear as soon as they arrive. The miracle is always two more weeks away. For one moment things are "good" and then it's over.

     Now, I am completely aware of many good things I have right now: a family that loves God, a home to return to, an education unlike the education of many youths around the world, a beautiful church family, health, life, the capability to see...the list goes on and on. I know I'm blessed I so many many ways...and now, to have a job that is so very wonderful...it's something I have a hard time comprehending.

     I do know one thing, this time in my life doesn't make God any more kind and loving than He is in the "bad times" or the dry times. He always is. It's my perception that's so flimsy. Is this faith about trusting in the things that I can't see? Trusting that my perception isn't always correct, but that God is always the good, loving, and generous King 100% of the time? Then other times I think, "well perhaps this is a sort of calm before the storm, an assurance that God is good before something bad happens". Yet I don't know if that's an accurate assessment either. 

     Yet maybe this is what Paul meant in Philippians 4:11-13

"Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me."

Our circumstances don't change God. Maybe the times of abundance are things that I need to accept just as I need to accept the times of need. What do I say to these things, these paradoxes of life being so full and empty, so good and bad? The beautifully broken might understand this better than I. Grasping beauty (holding to God) in pain and in peace. Yet pain and peace need not be distant--peace often comes through pain. 

    So if joy comes through suffering, then why am I not suffering? Need we suffer to experience joy? Or do things really come in seasons? I'm inclined to say that they don't, because God mixes a lot of things together. Do I even know what I'm saying? I don't think I do, but perhaps there's a certain quality of knowing in at least knowing that you don't know. 

     And these are the times when I wish I had a personal C. S. Lewis or John Piper or King Solomon. Hm, come to think of it, I do at least have their writings, and that might be a good place to start.