Kendra Burrows

Growing Through God's Grace

31 Days Later

Do you ever start something and then, for good reasons, you can’t follow through? And you feel okay about it – you really do – because you gave it your all. And you’re even a little proud of yourself for not freaking out, for just taking it as it comes? But then you get nervous because she wouldn’t have felt okay about it, so maybe you shouldn’t either. But you do. Feel mostly okay.

Yeah. Me, too.

I started a “31 Days” series for October. And then illness and workload and life overcame me. So I sputtered a bit and eventually stopped. Like that old Chevy Monte Carlo we used to have. I may have even blown a head gasket.

So I guess I’m officially announcing that I’m not finishing the series. As if you didn’t know that already. As if you didn’t stop reading days ago. As if you can’t count to October 31st.

But the thing about beginnings and endings and false starts and sputtering stops – and, well, life – is that it’s hard to know what to do next.

Oh, I have ideas and thoughts and lists and mental ponderings. So many mental ponderings!

I feel like I need a plan. But plans don’t come easy. And when they do they are easily side-tracked.

I wish I could say I have a plan. I wish I could say I have it all together. That I know what I’m doing. That I can commit to writing every day (or every other day or every third day) and stick to it. But, you know, life and all.

So I don’t know what I’m doing. And I hope that makes you feel better, because I suspect some days you don’t know what you’re going either.

I don’t know how I’m going to get through the rest of my term. I don’t know when my house will sell and what that will mean when it does. I don’t know how I’ll survive my pre-teen’s snarky attitude. {Is this why I hear parents looking forward to their kids moving out? And will this last for the six years until that happens? If so, I think I’m starting to understand wine.} And I certainly don’t know where this blog is going, if anywhere.

I’m trying to be good with that. Because I’m not the one with ultimate control over the universe. {And, boy, am I glad! Because that sounds like a big job and I can’t manage to grade student assignments and feed my kid dinner and do laundry all on the same day.}

There’s a nervousness that comes with not having a plan, not knowing what’s going to happen next. At least there used to be.

But I’m slowly getting more comfortable with it. S l o w l y.

James 4:13-15 says:

Come, now, you who say: “Today or tomorrow we will journey to this city and will spend a year there and we will engage in business and make profits,” whereas you do not know what your life will be tomorrow. For you are a mist appearing for a little while and then disappearing. Instead, you ought to say, “If Jehovah wills, we shall live and also do this or that.”

I’m slowly getting more comfortable with not knowing.

I can’t promise that I’ll write today or tomorrow or next week. But I have a lot of ideas to write about. And I want to write. And I enjoy writing. And I will write and post … if Jehovah wills.