It's been almost a year since my last days of my job in Michigan. And it has been a crazy year. A friend and I were joking that I decided to try everything I have been talking about for a decade in the last 365 days.
It has been a stretching time. It turns out that talking about risky things is easier than doing them. But it has been good, and I'm learning to jump and face a new wave of fear that surfaced when I stepped out of my comfortable life.
I have been reading the story of when God gives the Israelites manna in the wilderness (exodus 16 and deut. 8). When you step back and think about it, it is so strange that they were collecting bread from the ground. But what is fascinating is that they always had enough. If they didn't collect quite enough for that day or if they were greedy and grabbed more than they needed, it came out the same. And that was enough to sustain them.
In this period of the unknown and the uncertain, what I can say is that there has been enough. Some dark and unknown days it felt like there wasn't a bit extra. But I am finding that there is always enough grace and mercy to sustain me for the present day, and new mercy for every day that comes next.
Over and over, God has provided for me in unexpected ways; the kindness of friends, new opportunities to try. I'm learning to be thankful, to live in today without always having a plan for the future. Although plans are good, I often lived so much in the future that I forgot about today, forgot about savoring the moment I am in, forgot about seeing things to be thankful for right now.
And as I look back on the year, I've realized that most days have felt like more than enough. It's easy to forget these days, the gloriously happy days, discovering a beautiful hike and the perfect wild blueberry pancakes in maine with my brother. Or the laughing, sun-kissed swinging days in uganda, and four of us squeezed onto a tiny motorcycle on an adventure. It's easy to forget about meeting new little friends in liberia, the wide open spaces of the safari lands, and the grand canyon stop with a kindred friend.
One of the reasons I love photographs is because they remind me of all the ways God has cared for me, all the ways I have been given more than I deserve, all the ways I have enough.
