May 30, 2014
I throw the word nothing around probably as often as I throw around the word love, both of which are habits I would like to weed from the section of my vocabulary garden labeled "words I use often."
It would be extremely easy for me to say that I have nothing. But it would be wrong. Having just graduated from college, I have no job prospects. Literally, none. I got two rejection notices yesterday, and brushed them off into a filling basket of "things I don't trust God with." I have no steady summer job--just a compilation of odd jobs and some graduation/birthday money to live off for the summer. I live at home with my parents and sisters. I am not really "making it" as they say.
Again, it would be easy to say I have nothing.
But yesterday, I went over and helped a friend hang her cool maps and arranged her mantelpiece while her adorable daughter gave us laughter and joy. It meant a lot to my friend that my sister and I would come over, and it meant a lot to me that she would have us and feed us and make us tea. Today I went kayaking. Except my sister and I, after struggling to find the straps, wrestling with one of the kayak racks, driving forty-five minutes out to one lake, whose parking lot was blocked by construction, then driving another half an hour with detours and confusion to a lake whose parking lot was filled with random people (who were't even kayaking, gah!) simply drove for two hours and then went home. Sounds like we did nothing. But we sang at the top of our lungs, drove slow through gently curving fields, sunlit woods and on winding back roads we'd never been on before. It was anything but nothing, and even though we didn't even get to the water, we had laughs, and a great story to tell when we returned.
He makes beauty out of nothing. He makes the unexpected out of everything we dismiss as nothing but really can be gift. So look out--you might not go kayaking, but maybe you'll get something just a beautiful, maybe more so. I don't have a job, but I have life, a life I can live now.