Don't Wear Pajama Pants to the Office

    Today I wore pajama pants at work. The minute I had them on and was in my office, I became so nervous that the one of the part time guys would walk in. He is very kind, but very formal and I just didn't want to have to explain to him that I was painting my office and that the guy who was supposed to do it was taking a really long time at lunch and my mental health couldn't handle the delay and I was wearing my favorite pants and the only other option were blue and white striped pajama pants. Unprofessional and humiliating, but no choice. There was a time crunch and emotional health on the line and pajama pants were the answer.

    Life is like that sometimes. No ideal, easy options. Just bad ones or embarrassing ones or painful ones or ones that shouldn't be yours anyway. But that is a broken world. How do you fill in the gaps of life when it isn't your responsibility to paint the proverbial office? Do you wait and let it be or put on your pajama pants? I don't know if there is a right answer. My guess is that wisdom says sometimes you go to work and sometimes you sit back. But how do you know which is being faithful to the Lord? When do you submit to circumstances of life and when do you pack your bags and go home?

   I've always been a pajama pants kind of girl, but now I'm thinking that there is faithfulness in saying that it isn't my responsibility to get all the work that was left behind. Isn't there trust in saying that Christ is Savior and, although he uses his people, I don't always have to be the one to pick up the pieces? Isn't there rest in letting the entirety of the body fill in these gaps? It seems that is true.

   The good news of today is that no one saw me in my pajama pants and the room got painted. The good news of life is that regardless of what we choose, the Lord is faithful. He restores, despite us. And there is freedom in not having to walk a tight rope.

Moving is the Worst

   Pack. Move. Unpack. Repeat.
   Repeat, again.
   And again.
   And again.

   That's what I feel. I've had 9 addresses in 6 and a half years. That's a lot. Every time I pack my stuff and unload it, I feel more and more disconnected. Less and less like I belong somewhere. It's like I leave a part of myself in each house, each apartment. A little piece of my heart and identity lives on in the daily routine of each place. I'm taking a walk in Austin, enjoying the uniqueness of each house and the metal stars hung by the doors. I'm drinking morning tea with JoAnn and learning about the tabernacle. I'm watching Gilmore Girls at the Florida townhouse when I can't sleep. I'm eating dinner with the Wilkenings and engaging in the daily shenanigans. I'm taking a nap on the brown coach at my current apartment. Simultaneously, there are nine different lives going on. And I'm still moving. Always moving.

   How do I settle? Be still-physically, emotionally, spiritually? It seems to be easy for other people around me. There was a time when I loved the adventure and the new, but not anymore. Maybe I missed the window for stillness and now I'm looking for some kind of magic portal of perfect scenario to transport me to life. Some group of friends, closer geography to my family, a great church. And certainly all these things are good and things I long for, but are they an ideal rather than a reality? Are they things that need to be found or things that are created? Often I feel like people have their routines and friends and lives and there just isn't room for anything else. Our culture of busyness has edged out any opportunity for new community.

   Questions abound. And I have no answers. But this I know-in all chaos and unsteady, Christ remains constant. Even if my surroundings are ever changing, there is one who is Ever Lasting. And because He is steady, I can be still. Because He is ever present, my life is known. That is where hope lives-in Christ's constant love, presence and work.That will be my encouragement this week and in the months to come as I resettle in a new home and make new routines and as I think about the future.