Left to my own devices, I am a wanderer, a mosey-er to the highest degree. I’m happiest when I can ease my way into something, meander through it, and finish it methodically. I don’t like to be rushed or hurried. (Although to my credit, the only time I don’t speed is in a rainstorm.) I take my time to unpack, move in, answer emails, eat breakfast, return phone calls…the list goes on. One of my biggest struggles post-missions is two-fold: missing a sense of purpose and having a tangible deadline to make me move.
At work, it’s easy. I move when the attorneys I’m assigned to have a task for me to accomplish. They ask for copies, I make copies; they ask me to file a document, I do all the prep work and send it off to court (sometimes I get to take it myself, which is super fun).
At home, it’s a little tougher. The only times I really have to move are when my alarm goes off in the morning and when it’s time to go to bed at night. This is why it took me nearly a full month to unpack, get settled, make it a home. It would’ve taken longer had it not been for the gentle prodding and encouragement of my sweet roommate.
In life generally, it’s even harder to move. Maybe it’s because this is a season of settling in and growing stronger, or what’s more likely, I just don’t want to move much past my comfort zone, at least not without some grander purpose, something bigger than myself. In missions, it was clear: for the sake of souls I moved, responded, gave my life, did the craziest things that were not only outside of my comfort zone, but usually things I wouldn’t have chosen to do, not eventually, not ever. Outside of missions, my only deadlines are marked by my own dreams, and the fact that I’d like some of them to come true before I die. As somebody who’s been pretty altruistic these last four years, I find that my dreams don’t always motivate me—it’s easy to push them aside, discount them, ignore them because they are “not important enough.”
The Lord has wrecked every Life Plan I’ve made thus far, from law school to when I thought I’d get married (October 17 of this year, in case you were wondering). In His gracious mercy, though, he has left intact my dreams, those deep desires that have echoed through my heart since the time I was born, and still serve as signposts that point me in the right direction for His will for me (or at least I hope so…I’m trying so hard over here, Lord!): write a book, see the world, get a dog (high priority, y’all), and one day, get married. He’s nourished my heart and grown in it the true things, dismantling many of the things I thought I was seeking along the way. He’s left behind Just Carrie, not a woman defined by her own plans and deadlines, or even her slow moseying ways, but simply and truly God’s own Love for her.
Now is the time, I’ve come to realize, to turn to those long-silenced dreams and say, “Yes, now I will chase you.”
