Friday, October 28, 2011

Spinning

When my brothers and I were little, we used to spin each other around in the large office chair we have sitting in front of our computer desk. (To be honest, sometimes I still spin around in it.) Sometimes we would play a game and close our eyes as we got spun around in the chair. When we felt the chair stop, we had to guess which direction we were facing in the room. Other times, it was fun just to keep our eyes open and see all of the objects of the room become distorted and blurry as we spun faster and faster. Even after we stopped, it took a few seconds for our eyes to re-orient themselves to the way the room looked before we started going in circles.
I don't know this child, I just thought you needed a visual representation of my childhood experience.
This is how I feel right now. This fall semester has brought on a lot of new challenges- some expected, some unexpected. Dealing with all of these new challenges has been a dizzying experience, and though I know that it is just a season and I will adjust and I will learn, right now, I'm just dizzy. Every once in awhile I see a blurry form of what I think things are supposed to look like, but as soon as I see it, it's gone and I'm still spinning. But I can't stop this chair. When I was little and I began feeling a little nauseous, I could tell my brothers, "OK, stop!" and I could put my feet down or stick my arm out and slow myself down to a halt. But there is no "slow-down" button on life. (That's fortune cookie gold right there!) Thus, here lies my struggle. I am dizzy and confused and have no idea what in the world I'm doing or even what things are supposed to look like. I just want to be able to see straight. I wish that I could say that "this is what I've been through, and this is what God has taught me," because that's usually what I write about. But I'm not in that stage right now. I'm still in the midst of the "going through" stage. I'm waiting for what He has to say to me through His word, because I know that He is faithful, even when all I see of Him is a glimpse of a fuzzy, disfigured form as I dizzily spin around.