Last night I wrote on the last page of a journal I have used sporadically since college. As I flip back through the pages, I smile, laugh, tear up, shake my head, and remember. I remember the girl I was - the girl who expressed so much of her heart on those pages.
That girl is now five years older than the days of the first entries. In many ways she has lived moments she could never have guessed at. And today, she wonders.
She wonders if that girl would have been delighted to know the now.
She wonders if the wisdom of those days long gone has been well used on the journey.
She wonders if five years from now these moments being lived will make more sense, be seen more clearly.
And in the midst of all that wonder, she tries to muster up the courage and strength to surrender. To gather up all of the unfinished story-lines, the unfulfilled hopes, the undetected graces and to place them all into the hands of the Father.
She sits, slowly breathing in and out, and reflects on the life lived. She feels the hurts, delights in the joys, and guesses at the future.
She knows with certainty that she is loved by the God who does not need to guess at the meaning and the purpose.
She asks herself the question found in many forms throughout the pages of the journal she closes and sets back on the shelf.
Will she trust God? Does she love him as he asks her to? Does she trust that his grace is sufficient?
Is this life being lived for him?