Walking and Waiting

As junior year is speeding to its half-way point, I find myself mildly disappointed in myself while simultaneously surprised at my growth. I've stumbled upon a huge realization that I thought I once knew but now, I see, I didn't really understand before:

I have no control.

I've said this in previous posts, about slowly learning, again and again, how I lack complete control and mastery of the situations and people around me, yet I am still learning how so true that this is. (With that being said, it's amazing how many times we need to learn a lesson we thought we knew, only to find we never really knew it before!) No matter what I do, I cannot force change on people. I can do only what I can do - give advice, support, and encouragement - but I cannot expect them to change tomorrow, change next week, or even - even - in five years. Just looking at myself and how long it took me to learn and change, well, certainly, it takes a lot for someone to change. Perhaps I have watched too many TV shows, movies, read too many comics and stories, in which people change so quickly - one properly, perfectly timed word and BAM! They suddenly see the error in their ways and make significant steps toward redemption or something. But in reality, most often it takes years. Really. Years.

There are things out of my hands, out of my control. And while this does not excuse me from doing nothing then (by no means am I to Let Go and Let God and, with such attitudes, justify complacency and laziness), it gives me a measure of peace. God provides. He is truly trustworthy. He is sovereign.

In all this, I have learned to wait. To be patient. Things don't always have to get done the best possible way I can think of, but things can be a little less polished and nice if it helped someone to gain a little confidence, a little experience, if it helped me to enjoy the journey and the people than fly on by to the product, if it helped everyone get a little closer and a little wiser. Things don't have to be perfect. In fact, the futile struggle towards such is exactly that: futile. Sure, we want to do things well, but I do not have to stress about the sheer imperfection of it all that often leaves me quick to annoyance, hasty decisions, and stubbornness that pushes people away and leaves me alone as the supposed sole voice of reason and rightness.

Things are not perfect as I am not perfect. A patience, then, also from my own coming-to-terms with my failures. I fail as others do; so how much more should I be patient and excuse them as others have excused me?

I'm horribly unprepared for the future and I've done an atrocious job in keeping up with my classes. I've made horrendous lapses of sound judgment in dealings with my friends and I've purposely ignored some people and avoided others, made vague my answers to hide the truth, and found myself breaking promises I made to myself.

One would think by now, I'd have grown out of much foolishness. But on the contrary, I just discover more and more. I'm coming to be better at facing them, though. Better at accepting, better at learning. And, maybe, in the end, that is all we can really do. We can never fully grow out of selfishness, of foolishness, of pride and shame and sin, but we can get better at learning, at changing, at honesty with others and with oneself.

We may always be taking two steps forwards, one step back - but it's forwards, nonetheless. Granted, it's a slow process. But, as they say, good things come to those who wait and, if nothing else, I think I can do at least that.