A Letter to Myself, Five Years Ago/from Now

Reason #679 to live on the East Coast: the Bolt Bus. Friends, seriously, this is amazing. I am currently typing this blog entry while on a bus from NYC that I could have boarded for only $1, had I been savvy enough, but even with my relative lack of skills I managed to get this ticket for less than $20. End of public service announcement.

I'm riding home from a delightful weekend with girlfriends from college and reflecting on this weird place in life I'm in right now where I feel like I don't know what I'm doing. (Older/wiser people may be laughing right now, because I have this sneaking suspicion that this is not a weird place but rather "the rest of my life," but I'm trying to ignore that for a second.) Don't get me wrong -- I love my job. I love being in Boston. I love my roommates; seriously, I never would have dreamed so many people who love dessert so much could fit into one tiny apartment with only one bathroom, but it works. I'm near my family and that's wonderful. I have a great church where I am learning and growing and a wonderful community within that church that encourages me. So many things are good in my life right now.

What scares me is, I don't know what's next. There are a lot of unknowns. While I love things the way they are, they can't stay this way forever, or probably even for the next 5 years, and I've already seen glimpses of that in these last few months. I know that, in many ways (though not all), my inability to keep all of these things in place is for the good; it's just also hard. And in the midst of it I'm tempted to plan and panic and believe that, in spite of all the good that's in my life right now, God has forgotten to plan for my future and it is up to me to figure it all out.

Being with all of these college girls reminded me of another time I felt this way, and that was freshman year. I was in a similar situation: I had great roommates; I enjoyed my classes; I was in a city I really liked; and I was starting a new adventure. But I was scared -- what if these friendships don't last? What if I don't like my major? Who's going to employ an English major anyways? (Side note: someone this weekend told me about a t-shirt they'd seen that said, "I was an English major. You do the math." I want it.) I think others were remembering the same things, because as we ate dinner last night and went around the table, there was a constant refrain of, "Who would've thought we'd be here 5 years ago?"

The answer is, none of us, and certainly not me. If I could go back in time and reassure myself 5 years ago, this is what I would say:

Calm down. You have no idea what is ahead, and it is no use trying, because you wouldn't guess it in a million years. Some of it is very, very good; some of it is deeply, deeply painful. If you were to know it all now, you would not know how you would survive, because God only promises to give you what you need as you need it, and you don't have all the resources you need in this moment. But you will; he will provide them in the right time, and if you are looking, you will begin to see this pattern in your life of perfect provision -- never early and never late, although also never on your timetable. There are people around you who are becoming your very dearest friends, though you may not recognize them yet. Stop trying to find them; just love the people God puts around you. He knows who and what you need and when. And stop trying to earn the love of those people; you never can, even with your best efforts, and both they and you will be much happier if you'll just admit that. They are able to love you not because you are so inherently kind or pretty or clever, but because Jesus has enabled them to love you, even in the midst of the messiness of your life. He will also enable you to love them in their messiness. Be thankful for that, and tell them -- and him -- that.

I am so thankful God has given me friends who remind me of this reality, because the truth is, I need to read this letter now too. Myself in five years can fill in the details, but I have hope the reality of God's providence is just as true today as it was when I was a little frightened freshman. God give me grace to believe that, and keep believing that.