Tomorrow I leave for my Walk To Emmaus. Because every "spiritual" person I know in Stephenville has done it, I thought I needed to do it, too. So I could be more spiritual. Earlier in the month, I think I realized that may have been the reason (although I couldn't put a name to it) and so I procrastinated and procrastinated getting the paperwork done thinking that maybe I would lose my spot and I wouldn't have to go to this thing that was guaranteed to bring me closer to God. But here I am. Instead of facing it with dread and wondering if I was going to have to play nice-nice or share personal information with people I didn't like or didn't know, I am looking forward to it. I am looking forward to God meeting me there. God has been moving and working in my life for a while now. He has taught me some incredible truths about Himself that have completely changed the way I do business everyday, not just when I think someone is watching.
I know a few things about The Walk:
"It's great...so awesome."
"You really need to go."
"You can't understand it unless you've been there."
There are no watches and no cell phones. No watches! (Side note: I am obsessed with knowing the time. Ask about my wisdom teeth removal sometime or having both my children. Absolutely obsessed with knowing the time.)I know that I'm supposed to get letters. I know this because I was asked to write a letter to someone who recently completed her Walk. I was honored to be asked to do it, but a little disappointed because that aspect of it wouldn't be a surprise when my turn came around. I think Brian has tried to do a good job of being mysterious and I have tried to do a good job to not ruin any surprises.
My attitude has changed about a lot of things lately. Since coming into the full realization of who God really is and the role He's anxious to play in my life...a lot of things became a lot easier.
Submitting to Brian's authority, for one, became easier. I thought that being submissive meant obeying...and clearly, that's a part of it. But not the only part. My problem was that when he and I disagreed, instead of accepting his answer and going on, I was like a dog with a bone. Brian, worn down with all my "reasons", would relent and we'd go on our merry way. Except I'd just shown him that I will only submit myself to him as long as he leads my way. And I also proved to Brian that I didn't respect him. Of course, right off the bat when I stopped arguing with him and finally started accepting what he said (knowing in my heart that whatever he said or did, he thought was for the benefit of our family...because Brian always thinks about our welfare before his) anyway, it threw him for a loop. The whole time we've been together, I've made no qualms about my opinion on any topic and if I didn't agree with something, I was loud about it. If I couldn't get him to come to my side, I would get mad, pout and say he was narrow-minded. So when I stopped doing all those things, he thought I was mad (because for once in my life...I was silent). I am learning that I don't have to be nor am I responsible for telling Brian what we (read: he) should be doing. It's up to God to tell Brian what to do in a way that Brian can understand. God doesn't need a translator named Georgia. Not that He can't use me...but I think my use is better served in being quiet so Brian can hear. It's fairly interesting...Brian can concentrate deeply only when it is very quiet. So how can he hear what God's telling him to do with me loudly going on and on about what I think? Who cares what I think? I would hate to think that I was the one keeping us from God's best for our lives because I was inundating Brian with my opinion instead of allowing him to listen for God's very small, quiet voice. The more I think about it, the more I realize how important it is for me to listen. Clearly, I'm not trusting God to instruct Brian if I'm right there telling Brian what the right course of action should be. Whose job am I trying to do here?
I think I'm finally learning my place. And it's not nearly as bad as I thought.