Ok, if you're looking at the time of this post, it's late. I can't sleep. I have too many things buzzing around in my brain, and I'm hoping that if I write them down, I'll be able to make a visit to Dreamland.
Nightime hasn't been fun for me lately. My comps are getting closer and closer, and so is my pregnancy test. During the day, this doesn't bother me so much. I can keep the worry at bay. At night, when I should be sleeping, lying in my bed, is where all my fears assault me. I imagine all kinds of impending doom coming to get me. I won't pass my comps; I won't have a baby. Nothing will turn out right. I'll eventually go crazy. I will need a padded room or two wherever we live. If there's a fear out there to be had, I take it and make it my own. I make up ridiculous scenarios that will probably never happen, but they seem perfectly legit to me at 1:00 a.m.
Tonight I was thinking about all the things I fear, and I realized that it all boils down to feeling completely out of control. I think I heard this analogy in a sermon, but I can't remember where, and tonight while I was lying in bed, I put myself in the story.
I started out traveling with a roadmap that God gave me. He put the directions for my life in the Bible, and He gave me guidance to interpret that through reading His Word, answers to prayer, circumstances, etc. He showed me where to go. I'm sitting in the car, and I've got this map out in front of me. David and I are driving, and at first, I really like the drive. If this is where God wants me to go, I'm all for it. The scenery is beautiful; there are trees and hills and valleys everywhere. Everthing is green. I sit back and smile with satisfaction. Apparently God and I had the same idea about my life.
Then the map calls for a turn. This road doesn't look like something that should even be on a map. I wonder if I got the road name right when we turned. The terrain is getting rougher and rougher. The road becomes a dirt road. There are no trees. There is nothing but red clay and dust for miles. The potholes could swallow cows, and we're driving a Camry. I've got my map turned upside down, sure I'm reading it wrong. But I know I'm reading it right. All the signposts are there. This is what God had in mind. And I hate it. My throat starts to close with fear. I begin to wonder if we'll ever see a tree again. I begin to say, like the Israelites said to Moses, "Did you bring me out here to die in the wilderness? I'm running out of water. I want to go back to Egypt. It would be better to die there."
That's how I feel right now. I'm afraid, and I don't want to go. David and I are sure that God led him to apply for the Supreme Court clerkship at this time in our lives. I was excited when I realized that at least He hadn't forgotten we existed, and He did have some plan for us that He was willing to tell us about. I still am excited sometimes about that part of it, just the surety that there is some sort of plan, and we haven't been forgotten.
But...we are picking up, and we're moving again. We're starting all over, and we're doing it in a city that I don't particularly care for at just about the worst possible time to start over, in my opinion. I will see David less than I ever have because of his job demands. I may be looking for a job yet again. And what scares me more than any of it is the fear that we will move, and I won't be pregnant. We'll be there, we won't be able to do treatment because of David's busy schedule, and it may be at least a year before we can figure out what else to do.
I think I can handle all the rest, but I'm afraid that I can't handle moving to DC with a broken heart. Not on top of everything else. Time is speeding on, and I feel like I'm on a conveyor belt in a bad movie. I want to get off before I reach the knife blades, but I can't.
The bottom line is that I don't like God's roadmap for me. I have one idea, and He has another. His plan gives me no control whatsover. It looks nothing like what I imagined it to be. I don't get a say. I just decide to obey or not. I'm praying that He will give me the strength to obey. I want to remember, not forget, all the ways He has carried me. I want to put down an Ebenezer stone and say, "Thus far, the Lord has helped me."
I want to believe that there is some Promised Land out there that is far better than I imagined, and maybe I'm just taking the long way around. But its hard. It's really hard. It's harder than I ever thought possible. Tomorrow, the road may be smoother. But it may not be. I just don't know. But I know who made the roadmap. I just have to look back and remember His goodness along the way. He hasn't failed me.