I can feel it coming...

...like a tidal wave hiding behind the sun setting over the ocean...it's a beautiful scene, but it's haunted with dread...and I know that the weight of the water will overcome my attempts to stay afloat.

I'm in a mood. If I could call myself an artist (but I don't have the gumption) then I would say that my muse is knocking at the door, ready to inspire world-impacting kinds of work.

I swear, my mind has not stopped swirling with thoughts, creations, notions, theories, questions...it's not stopped for a while.

Last week I organized our resource room. This week I attempted to organize my classroom. When that failed slightly, I went home and cleaned my house.

These are the mundane, somewhat thoughtless activities that I take to when I need to quiet the noise that is...my head.

It may be the changing season. It may be the variety of adventures that I and my loved ones have found ourselves on. It may be the soul-awakening process of church-searching in which John and I have become immersed.

Let me go back to the changing season idea...see, it's not just the season change of summer-to-fall. It's not just the season change of Austin-to-San-Antonio. It's not just the season change of being married for two years and feeling the impact of that reality. It's not just the season change of college-student-to-graduate. It's not even the change of adapting to a job that I've never experienced before.

I think the change involves the realization that my life altogether made an incredible shift this summer...and it's becoming somewhat apparent that I really wasn't prepared for the adjustment.

While visiting a church today, I looked around the sanctuary and caught sight of a man that looked very much like a dear friend that John and I shared back in Austin. Suddenly, I was mourning the loss of that friend and the multitude of people that we had known during our time in that city. I hate the way we left. No fanfare, no goodbyes, no promises to write or call. We just left. Sometimes it makes me feel sick to think that I spent 5 years in a place and left without more than a handful of relationships. Even more interesting is that my two close friends were made in the last 2 years or so. I only met Sarah a year ago. My roommate no longer lives in Austin, and some other good friends have moved away. 3 or 4 actually live in San Antonio, which is a blessing. So what ties me to that city? Maybe nothing. Maybe that's why we left so quietly...maybe.

I've been watching a dear friend struggle with the frustration of not having control in her life. As her plans appear to dwindle, there's a relentless sense of futility that bashes away at her confidence. In these times, I am aware of the tears and anger that come when our supposedly perfect plans fall through our fingertips. And then I am grateful to be reminded that my God sees beyond my puny ideas and orchestrates my life to perfect detail for the glory of His name. He knows the plans that He has for me, and though I make many efforts to control my world, it is HIS purpose that prevails; His purpose is perfect and worthy and takes my breath away.

So I am praying, as I gaze out to this sunset - as it hides that looming tidal wave - that my God will make His promises evident to me. I am praying that He provides strength to rise on wings like eagles, to run and not grow weary. I am praying that His glorious riches are bountiful in our lives so that we may be a fragrance of Christ to those around us. I am praying that He provides peace beyond my understanding and quiets my anxieties over all these changes.

And I am praying that as the heavy waters close over me, may I be reminded that The Lord sat as KING at the flood. Yes, the Lord sits as King forever.