What I’ve Learned

It’s cloudy and rainy today. The best days in August are the ones that don’t feel like August. Especially this time of year, with the sun so strong, I don’t like wearing shoes. I’ve noticed more and more that people find it socially unacceptable to go barefoot, which seems odd to me. We ought to end this, friends. It might seem like being less than an inch higher from the ground wouldn’t matter much, but to the well-cultured toe it is miles. And did you know that there is actually a muscle that only develops by going barefoot? Yes. So you can see, we all ought to be going barefoot, eh?

I began this summer naively after graduating from high school. I guess, well, it’s not what I expected it would be. It is much better, also much more sad. I have learned to take time as it comes and not try to figure out too much. When I start looking at details and tomorrows, I get overwhelmed. But life is not going to be this hickledy-pickledy for long, and it will all work out whether I worry or not. So in the end, worrying doesn’t make a difference. How bothersome! It might be handy if doing things was the same as worrying about them.

It’s good to experience more of the world than what is right in front of you. I never liked being put in a box, which is why it frustrated me when people called me ‘sweet’ or ‘good’. But more and more, I’ve realized how little I know of the world. So much of the world isn’t as kind as what I’ve seen. We hear about evil, but we don’t quite realize how bitter and dark it is. I’ve learned to deeply appreciate honesty and goodness. Don’t take lovely things for granted. It’s more than being about right and wrong. It’s about how strongly it effects everything about us, how cold it is, how much it plugs our senses, and how it stings us with fear and sorrow.

I worried that I would become trapped being unproductive and close-minded, but I’ve realized the importance of having stability. We don’t have to be close-minded to be content. We don’t have to be boring to be fearless.

A soft voice can be heard. Some day, perhaps, I’ll write down some not-so-pleasant experiences when my voice didn’t seem loud enough. But for now, it suffices to say that God has shown me how he uses soft-voiced people to say loud things. Each puzzle piece is delightful. Just because it’s loud doesn’t mean it’s strong. We can be confident knowing how we were made is good. We don’t have to aim for changing ourselves; we can trust that God says your voice is good enough.

So until next time, dear heart, may you come to know God’s faithful armor and protection is good enough.

-Sarah