After I wrote my last blog entry I went to dance class, which was great because I had a lot of angst to dance out of my system. I didn’t get it all out – but I left with my head held high because I have actually improved over the last few weeks. Pretty soon I’ll be kicking those 14-year-old dancers’ butts.
I woke up the following morning feeling like I had been hit with a dump truck, which is actually a great feeling because it means I’m pushing my body. I’m all freaked out these days about getting old and becoming immobile, so I feel like while I have the capability I should train for an Ironman Thriathlon or something (the “or something” translates into a weekly a one-hour dance class for young girls. Same thing, right?)
Despite dancing out my woes the day before, I was still feeling pretty emo yesterday morning – like I was wasting away because I didn’t have a job, and would soon be selling whatever was left of my soul to corporate America. I felt betrayed by God, but I wasn’t going to let my feelings overcome truth.
So I got down on my hands and knees and prayed. And I while was there, on my bedroom floor, I heard God speak. Three simple words. And yet they shook me to the core.
“I know you.”
Like any good author, God’s words are loaded with meaning. “I know you” – I know what you’re passionate about, I know what you’re good at, I know what makes you cry, I know what makes you feel dead inside, I know what you want to do; I also know what’s best for you. I know what you’ve already mastered, and I know what you still need to learn. I know you have hopes and dreams and abilities, and I’m not going to let them gather dust in the corner. I know you.
My mind was then flooded me with an array of beautiful memories from the course my life has taken – a testimony that God does, in fact, know me.
I don’t know what this means for my immediate future. But whatever happens, I’m going to trust that it will be good (even if it’s not what I want.) I’ve been getting more desperate in my job search – I’ve applied for community research testing. Yes, you can have my body and treat me like a lab rat and possibly take 10 years off my life. But hey, at least I’ll be getting paid! I’ve also responded to a taste testing gig that would land me $60, and I’ve sent my resume into a daycare (lol?? not what I want to do with my life) and a 10/hr a week youth director position (talk about big money!)
And now I’ll allow myself to wait, peacefully. I’m doing what I can and the rest is out of my control, so I will no longer waste my time and energy worrying about tomorrow (for tomorrow will worry about itself, or so I’ve been told.)
Instead I’ll go to the park. I’ll watch movies about Paris. I’ll work on that 1,000 page novel I started reading. I’ll cook dinner for my family. I’ll dance in the living room and pray on my bedroom floor.
I’ll bask in promise of those three, simple words: I know you.