monuments

As I pick up my gaze from this season and begin placing it on the next one, I need to tell you something. I need to tell you how my Father has been taking care of me. Because he really has.

He doesn't do things as I would expect. This semester he has spoken in the most surprising ways. I am humbled and blown away and wanting to hide in him more and more.

First, he gave me a job. Back home, back in my comfort zone. Back near my pink couch and my side-of-the-driveway parking spot. So the next season will be a new and an old one, all at once.

Second, he gave me new mentors and new perspectives. He reminded me in the most unsuspecting moments that he knows, and he cares, and he's in control. He has revealed weaknesses that I can bring to him as I practice being a nurse. And he has reminded me that I have access to incredible power even when I feel the most powerless in caring for my patients.

I was sitting in class this morning and my professor mentioned a story about his first years working as a nurse. He told us how rich it was. How he felt camaraderie with his co-workers. How he learned and grew during that hard first season. I found myself longing for a season just like that. Saying things in my head like, "Please, God? Something like that is just what I need!"

But then, like I child, I turned toward my Father and remembered. He has promised to care for me. And he hasn't failed yet.

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. Isaiah 43:2