By Elisabeth Corcoran
Last month found me waiting around. In almost every area of my life. Which has been really difficult because my husband and I just finished off our crisis about six months ago and I've been craving normalcy and stability like you wouldn't believe.
So, one night a couple weeks ago while wide awake with thoughts that wouldn't stop running through my head, I got up and went to my computer. After answering a few emails, I made a decision. That May was going to be my "month of movement" (and I went on to proclaim this to a few people in my life). That I was done sitting on my hands, on the sideline, just waiting for outcomes to happen to me.
I determined I was giving a summer trip to Africa one more month to pan out. And I was giving selling our house and buying a new house one more month. And I was giving my job lack-of-focus one more month to clarify itself. And I was giving my third book one more month to find a publisher. It seemed a fine idea at the time (exhausted in the middle of the night). Basically, if there were things I could be doing, I was going to start doing them.
I came to terms with the fact that there's really no way I can secure a visa, let alone any details of an intentional Africa trip, in time for me to go this summer. So, I'll go another time. God already knew that anyway.
I got my husband on board with us not dragging this search out over the summer (and by the way, we've found something new we like - only time will tell if we get it or not!)
I had another clarifying talk with one of my new bosses and realized that job focus is not in my near future, and I have to decide if I'm really okay with that.
And I sent out a few more queries about my book and currently have some interest that I'm praying ferociously about.
Now, sure, May was the month of a little movement. But when I was describing this to my Mom, we both kind of chuckled as we realized how silly it sounded. Not that we don't have free will and are given responsibility over our choices and such, but if I really think all I had to was run harder like Fred Flinstone in his prehistoric car and voila, things would start happening, I was mistaken. Because only God knows if he wants me in Africa anytime soon, if he wants us in another home and out of our current one, what my position at church really should look like to benefit the church, the Kingdom and me at the same time, and only he knows if book three has a home on some bookstore shelf or in my hope chest.
So I learned a lesson. Or, after over twenty years of walking through life with Christ by my side, I should say I re-learned a lesson. Though God doesn't move parked cars (to quote my youth pastor's wife, circa 1987), he is still more than able to move whatever he wants, whenever he wants, however he wants, and he doesn't need my permission or even my willingness (though that would be nice, I'm sure).
So here's to June - the month of waiting in expectation on the God that I love and trust to move in whatever ways he sees as my best interest.
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