Having a How. Or Something.

My uncle is learning to play the guitar faster then I am. I will admit he has been practicing a bit more: he doesn’t have copious amounts of Soviet reading to do. I suppose being a father of three and partner of a financial advising agency keeps him sufficiently busy. Still, how is it that I don’t have time to learn to play guitar? Aren’t a person’s college years supposed to be carefree? I am nineteen -- isn’t my life supposed to be made up of eating chocolate without consequence, staying up late, learning to do things like belly-dance and sew and knit and meeting the love of my life?

Something along those lines.

I am a bit stressed out of late. Okay, I am always stressed out. Maybe Mr. Furtado was right when in a home fellowship email he satirically predicted that I have an addiction to stress. I have been trying to relieve it: I have been working out, eating well, doing yoga, praying…

It all comes back to one issue, though. Stress motivates me. Or rather, I am stressed because I care about things, and that motivates me. I care about my brother and sisters, the opinion of my parents. I care about my friends, their happiness and futures. I care about what the Lord wants for me: I want to do His will; I want to glorify Him.

The question is how. How, how, how? All I can do is keep learning.

Here is what I have been learning of late (beyond the constant “trust God” lesson):

I cannot convict people. I can’t make them learn from sin or a mistake. I can’t make someone want to change. I can’t make someone acknowledge a wrong. I can’t make someone go into business mode. I can’t make a person regret how they have treated me. This is not my job. WAKE UP, SARAH: This is God’s work. All I am called to do is love people. I want to be a blessing to those around me in the same way that I am blessed by the sunshine, a good climbing tree or a letter in the mail. Simple. Simple and loving.

Have I found my “How?”