Independence.

The past week has taught me more about my view of independence than any amount of philosophical study or reflection could. For the past week, I have been anything but independent. Starting eight days ago, I have relied on other people to dry me off, to dress me, to do my hair or make up, to carry my books, to drive me around, even to feed me.

For a girl who so highly values her independence, that's a whole lot of frustration. And I think the most frustrating thing hasn't been an inability to perform some of those tasks, but its been relying on people to do them for me and allowing them to. It's hard to be the recipient of grace, to be the inconvenience. I so desperately long to suddenly have full range of motion, full function, to be able to do everything for myself. I keep trying to steal back pieces of my independence, but I feel like God has to have a greater purpose for my frustrations than the injury in of itself. Perhaps I am reading too much into this, but I feel like God is using this uncomfortable time to teach me that I don't get to be independent. As much as I value going where I want, when I want, doing what I want, I am learning the beauty and joy of interwoven lives, of together time pushed to the breaking point.

I love living in a time and place that allows God to speak to me so personally and clearly. I love being challenged to grow, even when it hurts. Even when God is wrenching away from me the thing that I have spent so many years fostering and cultivating and desiring, there is some sort of beauty. I love that the God I serve does not fix me overnight, but allows me to be a part of the process. I love that God loves me enough not to leave me the way that I am.