Wait.

The Weekend. Funny how sometimes the best thing for you is more people – like too much people kind of more people. This past weekend was a jam pack extrovert’s paradise. Large study groups, big parties, after-church hangouts (that’s a little more usual), and talks, talks, talks. So much talking and doing and going that there wasn’t enough time to let my thoughts wander. Cut off before the spiral had the chance to start.

Then today, the quiet came. And I’m still okay for the most part.

Out of sight out of mind. That was Maurice’s motto for the weekend. Never works for long. I keep thinking back to the beach ball analogy. Some things are like inflatable beach balls. You can try to shove them down underwater, but they always pop back up. The more you shove, the higher they spring.

Nothing’s sprung, per say. I just feel this uncomfortable tingling under my skin. A decision I left off at the side and didn’t want to look at. I saw a glimpse of hope in dragging out the timeline. But the clock ticks and I can’t have my head turned away forever. I keep thinking that if I can just solve this one little wrestle on the inside, then it will be okay. That in the future, I’ll be able to go through with it. But, I can’t kick it. And I’m not helping myself. If anything, it might be getting worse. Hopeful thoughts are dangerous thoughts sometimes.

God knows my wrestle and I trust him. But my nerves want to react. Run, hide, hold back, give in, do the deed, avoid doing the deed? Whatever. What does it look like to wait on the Lord with this?

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