I cried because I have a storage unit.
Okay, let’s be honest: I’ve cried about this several times. Because it’s not really about the storage unit. No doubt, I hate having a storage unit because it's just sooooo much hassle, trying to remember which box things are in, and having to switch out clothes every season. But it’s more about the symbolism of that dang storage unit.
My storage unit, for the past two years, has been my “not-right-now” box. It holds objects and pieces I have carefully selected, one by one, saving it for the time when I can use it.
This time of my life has been so transitional, so full of stretching and flexing my patience muscles. Each time I open my storage unit, I’m reminded of the “not-right-now” that God keeps whispering to my stubborn soul.
In my hyperfocus on “not-right-now,” I miss out on the actual “right now.”
Recently, I (finally) got out my warm weather clothes from my storage unit, and the sight and reminder of that “not-right-now” box put me in a sour mood.
My sourness expressed itself in announcing to my ever-so-patient Andrew, “I want a house, and I will lose my ever-loving mind if I have to change out my clothes for another season” (bless that poor man’s soul).
That man of mine has some huge grace muscles, because his response to my whining was this:
“I know you’re frustrated, and rightly so. But instead of focusing on what hasn’t happened in those two years, write down all the things God has done in that time.”
He’s right, and I knew he was right, but my response (because I’m stubborn) was to tell him that I didn’t want a practical answer, I wanted him to just agree with me.
Luckily, I came to my senses later.
As an introvert and design junkie, I crave the space to create and design, and my storage unit is full of unique pieces I’ve made or collected, waiting for the perfect space for it. My space is where I recharge, but it’s also where people gather, and I want a space that is welcoming for everyone who crosses the threshold.
I love to preach to others how much it helps your memory to physically write things down, but apt to forego my own advice. I can’t tell you how much better it feels to have that list, to hang it up and be able to read it daily as a reminder of His grace.
In the past two years, I have not bought a house, however…
- I have gotten to live close to my family, two different times
- I have gotten a job that utilizes my talents, in the communications industry
- I’ve been able to travel several places
- I have gotten to slowly get my finances in order
- I lived close enough to family that took care of Evee when I went out of town
- I’ve learned exponentially what it means to be an adult
- My living situation allowed me to spend weekends with my sweet heart-expanders, C. and T.
- I’ve been able to help my grandparents with things
- I sought out help in order to reconcile past hurts
- I have been surrounded by the best tribe
- I’ve had a roof over my head
- I have more time to focus on my master’s courses
- I did fall in love with my best friend
- I am learning what the true definition of a home means
I don’t know what your “not-right-now” box looks like. Maybe it’s career-related, or emotionally-related. Maybe you want a child or a new car. Maybe you’re feeling despaired because it’s been two years (or more), and you fear that prayer will never be answered. Maybe you’re afraid the desire you have is not one that aligns with God’s plan for you.
Fear not, dear soul. Desires in our hearts that have been placed there by God do not go unfulfilled. I have to emphasize, placed there by God, because we must first align our desires with His. Until then, praise Him for other things He’s doing in your life. Maybe you don’t yet have your dream job, but you’ve been able to mentor others in your current job. Maybe you don’t have a child now, but there’s an opportunity for you to speak up for children who don’t have a voice.
I don’t know what all you’re going through right now, what that “not-right-now” box looks like for you. But know this:
In this seemingly never-ending dry season of your life, where prayers aren’t being answered and desires lay burning, there is a cactus, a reptile, a stubbornly-resilient tree.
Even in the desert, there is Life.
Even if not, He is still good.