Searching for Knitting Needles

There are times when, realizing the lack of control I have over the larger events of my life, I try to  micromanage the most insignificant details. This, dear readers, is exactly why I'm up at 12:17 a.m. rummaging through my knitting bin trying to find my size 8 circular needles. It's one of the few things that stand between me and tears. I'm rummaging and thinking and not finding what I need and desperately wishing for a hug and someone to tell me that its okay to not have everything under control. I'm frustrated because I can't remember where anything is in these crates that I've moved twice since May, and will move again in two weeks, but I know that the frustration is only a mask for the fear that lies beneath.

Fear of Change                              Fear of the Unknown                                      Fear of Failing

I want so badly to go on just as I am now: happy, loving life, getting into scrapes with my best friend and roommate, anticipating the afternoon coffee and homework, the late night movies, the real talks in the dark before drifting off to sleep. I don't want this to change; it feels like I only just got here.
I'm terrified--yes, terrified, I've finally said it after two months of thinking it--of the thought of what happens after. After the next two weeks are gone, then what? I try to get a job. I adjust to a new normal. I wait to hear from grad schools. But after that, then what? I just don't know. I hate not knowing.
I worry about not being good enough. I worry that what everyone says is true, that employers are gonna look at my Liberal Arts degree, and my sparse resume and say "Try McDonald's." I worry that the one school I want, won't want me. I worry about making friends in a city where for SIX YEARS, I've not had one close friend near my age.

I wish I could say that by now, at 1:04 a.m., I've soothed myself with promising Bible verses and am ready to sleep peacefully till class time, but that's not how this night is gonna go. I'm praying hard prayers for wisdom and direction, but if I've learned anything in my twenty-two years of life, its that God works on a different time than I do. Some nights you have to go to bed with problems left unresolved as you try your hardest to trust that He's working on your life behind the scenes.

If I have red eyes in the morning and fall asleep in chapel, just blame it on the knitting needles.

its 1:14.

1 comment

  1. God bless you, dear heart. I hope you got some sleep! I have had many of those nights, and as you get older it's just the immediate reasons for the same fears that change. But the beauty will still be there, too, in similar and different guises. May the Lord give you peace as you finish out the semester and your college career and take the adventure that beckons.