When Fall Semester Ain't So Easy
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When Fall Semester Ain't So Easy

Junior year isn't what I hoped for, and what God has to say about that.

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When Fall Semester Ain't So Easy
Erin Powe

There are moments when I wonder if time and our lives aren't a bit cyclical, that maybe we have a little something in common with the sun and moon, how we go in circles.. forever coming back to trip over the same root on the same path, to confront all too familiar trials and truths.

These last couple weeks have given me serious flashbacks to my senior year of high school. It's troubling, to dash out of a season and think you'll never see its ugly face again, and then to find that discontentment crawled back into your car during Junior year of college. I walked into this semester thinking it might be the best yet, but it's been far harder than Sophomore year. It's been harder, but sweeter too, as there is a deeper, firmer foundation that I'm standing on as Jesus has drawn me closer. That said, I feel like I'm in high school again because I'm looking at my future, and all I feel is despair.

I can't see squat.. shadows.

And really, even those among us with the best laid plans don't have a ounce of control over the days ahead, but we can pretend. Only I can't pretend.

What I do is fear.

And every shadow up ahead becomes a danger that'll mar my life and every option is a path that leads to hopelessness. The shadows of the future become figures that haunt my days and nights. I got a control problem.

No, I have a trust problem.

My senior year of high school, I fell to the same sword. Every day, I'd wake up with draining burdens on my shoulders, with a tightness in my chest. Hadn't a clue where I could go to college, how things could turn out happy. I hated the thought of Auburn with all my heart - was fleeing for my life from the place, but was more and more pulled towards it. My "dream future" was crumbling, and I was throwing pity parties every hour on the hour.

Only, in these situations, I somehow always remember to discount God's sovereignty and steadfast love in my life, always seem to forget that He is holding the game-plan, and I can't mess it up. How could we that He is merciful and gracious, that He upholds us when we faint? But we do.

And that's where I am again: forgetfulness and distrust. I'm letting my emotions rule me with an iron rod. And the Lord, He won't give me even a shred of certainty because He wants me to learn to trust him.

I hate it, but He is baring infected wounds, pits of sin in my soul, showing me how much relational insecurity is crippling my walk with Him.

Do I believe He is the Good Shepherd like I'm always writing down? Will I trust Him where I can't see my own hand in front of my face? He is pushing on my heart, lovingly showing me where I lack.

Do you believe it: "That God is working for the good of those who love him"? That He has a loving design in both the glories and the horrors of your life? Are you surrendered to Him, repentant of your sin?

Trusting is so hard when I let Satan tell me lies about the shadows up ahead, but really, the path is flooded with God's glorious light, and I'm just a blind woman, rebelliously blind. And I realize (how blind I am to God's goodness, to the greatness of the I AM, how I'm covering myself in filthy rags instead of the garment of the King) when I look back at the all the seemingly disconnected moments of my life, of pleasure and pain, and see how He has woven it all into a wonder-striking tapestry of grace.

He is who He says He is, and when you doubt it, He has a way of opening your eyes, and you'll wonder if you've even ever really been alive up til now.

"My life is but a weaving
Between my God and me.
I cannot choose the colors
He weaveth steadily.

Oft' times He weaveth sorrow;
And I in foolish pride
Forget He sees the upper
And I the underside.

Not 'til the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly
Will God unroll the canvas
And reveal the reason why.

The dark threads are as needful
In the weaver's skillful hand
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern He has planned

He knows, He loves, He cares;
Nothing this truth can dim.
He gives the very best to those
Who leave the choice to Him."

- Corrie ten Boom

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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