some things take time.

I’m a slow mover.  More and more I’m becoming aware of how long it takes me to do things.  I read slowly.  I write slowly.  I don’t like feeling rushed, especially in the morning.  Even though my life seems to be a flurry of activity, I am often slow to do and create.

My mom loves to tell the story of her long labor with me.  My sisters still bring up the fact that their evening bath was interrupted when my mom's water broke and they didn't even get to wash the shampoo out of their hair.  My family rushed to the hospital, and yet, I didn’t make my grand entrance until the next afternoon.  My mom smiles as she says, “you’ve been taking your time ever since.”

I used to get frustrated with myself about this, but am growing in the acceptance and embracing of my life’s pace.  Truly, I wouldn’t dare wish that away about my story.  Slow is not void of meaning or activity, but often allows space for a richness and breath.  Most days, I might even say I like the easy moving pace of slow.  I'm usually pretty okay with the fact that, for me especially, some things just take time.

Some of my favorite projects I’ve ever made – crafts, sewing, music, worship experiences—seemed like they would never be done.  Some came in danger of being tossed aside multiple times.  But I can look at them with joy, and delight in them even more so, because they not only hold beauty, but effort, process, redemption of mistakes, and persistence.

When you move like I did a few months ago, people love to ask “so, are you all settled in yet?”  I often laugh and mention the month delay on the arrival of my belongings and how much I’ve been traveling lately.  “These past few weekends have been too gorgeous to stay inside!” I exclaim.  All of those things are true.  But it’s also true that especially in things I care about—this being creating a homey, welcoming place that reflects me and is soaked in Jesus—I move slowly.  I realized that this week as I made some significant progress in my living space.  I soak up decorating each wall or corner and make sure everything looks and feels just right.  Look at the wall on the right.  Pieces from thrift stores or yard sales.  Craft projects and upcycling.  I love that it's really old wood frames and a well loved cutting board that bring beauty to my kitchen wall.  The rich character held in those pieces didn't come quickly.  The time it took to create this wall was great.  But the feeling that came when I stood back to look at its completion this morning, was awesome.  I became okay with the time it took, when I saw how it came together.  But yes, it took time.

I know that I was made in the image of the Creator to create.  He was way more efficient than me.  Creating the universe in 6 days?!  Shoot.  I've spent longer planning an outfit.

God is a big and mighty capable master Creator.  Not just a one time Artist in the beginning, but continuously.  His favorite medium is people.  We’re stubborn.  We make mistakes.  We’re impatient.  Sometimes he has to take us apart a bit to get us to be what He’s designed.  And that takes time.  I want to jump to hanging the finished piece on wall, but the Artist is says gently, “you haven’t seen the best part take shape yet.”  So for further unfolding in my story, I wait.

While acknowledging that many areas of my life are beyond my dreams and I couldn’t ask for more, today is just one of those days that I’m feeling the rub of what seems to be little or no movement in some areas of life.  God, I’m eager for the man you have in store for me, for ministry to be mature, for community to be rich and deepening, for bucket list items to be checked, but until then, help me dig into you and allow you to work and guide.

I tend to lean into being proactive and believe strongly in its value.  There is much God has given us to work with in the meantime.  Today, though, I’m simply reminded of the Artist at work and that I’m the medium.  Some things, and often the really great things, take time.