Dear Mom and Dad,
Do you remember when I burst into your bedroom in tears, at 9:00 (which was late back then), sobbing that I never wanted to grow up? Kind of an odd preoccupation, but I was upset and you wisely told me that the future comes one day at a time, which translates to a lot of days for an 8-year-old. I wasn't particularly consoled by this thought, but went back to bed anyways.
Now, the very thing I feared has happened: I grew up. I left home, got a college degree, came back home, met a guy, and then left him and home and a good 3/4 of my heart behind to come to Argentina. And the future of "growing up" is just as scary at 23 as it was at 8, and maybe more so because now I've seen it close up and it's full of questions and decisions that don't have an obvious answer or a 'reverse' option. Teacher, translator, missionary, writer, other? Masters or doctorate? Married or single? Where in the world?
In addition to the existential angst of being in my 20s (it's not too early for a quarter-life crisis, right?), there's that whole concept of talents and the wise investment of the things God has given; inaction is not an effective course of action. Suffice it to say that the future feels a bit stressful right now.
And she can laugh at the days to come...
The phrase caught my attention immediately, and I tried to brush it off by saying that the woman of Proverbs 31 already had a career and family picked out for her (that's the thing about ancient middle-eastern culture: not much choice in those matters!) and could laugh at a predetermined fate that I clearly can't. Then I remembered my exegesis*, which reminded me that the Proverbs 31 lady is basically incarnate wisdom. Transcendent.
Wisdom- the wise 23-year-old, can laugh at the future. But why? How? And how does she keep from bursting into tears at 9:00?
Because...wisdom is the fear of the LORD, the only One who can be properly said to know the future, the One who has essentially left me the keys to my life and His kingdom and trusted me with them. There is no mistake I can possibly make, no fork I can possibly choose that I will take alone: that's the faithful promise of the Holy Spirit. On either side of the road there is a cross, and knowing that there will be suffering here and there does take out the element of scary surprise to some extent. Fearing God tends to shrink other fears to their proper dimensions.
And the ridiculous optimism of Proverbs 31?
I'm trying to imagine an appropriate laugh for wisdom here. I'm sure the Hebrew connotes a demure chuckle, but I prefer to envision a loud, milk-goes-up-your-nose and your-gut-is-tired-afterwards combination snort and explosion because the future is just so flippin' funny.
Wisdom can laugh raucously at the future because she caught the punch line in the comedy of errors, that the cross will be an awfully big adventure, and that growing up can actually be a bit of a riot.
Sure beats an ulcer- I might as well laugh along with her. =)
*exegesis: (exe-Jesus?) fun seminary word meaning "figure out what this phrase meant, taking into consideration the original language, historical context, literature elements, and dozens of commentaries by guys with cool names like Eusebius".
Do you remember when I burst into your bedroom in tears, at 9:00 (which was late back then), sobbing that I never wanted to grow up? Kind of an odd preoccupation, but I was upset and you wisely told me that the future comes one day at a time, which translates to a lot of days for an 8-year-old. I wasn't particularly consoled by this thought, but went back to bed anyways.
Now, the very thing I feared has happened: I grew up. I left home, got a college degree, came back home, met a guy, and then left him and home and a good 3/4 of my heart behind to come to Argentina. And the future of "growing up" is just as scary at 23 as it was at 8, and maybe more so because now I've seen it close up and it's full of questions and decisions that don't have an obvious answer or a 'reverse' option. Teacher, translator, missionary, writer, other? Masters or doctorate? Married or single? Where in the world?
In addition to the existential angst of being in my 20s (it's not too early for a quarter-life crisis, right?), there's that whole concept of talents and the wise investment of the things God has given; inaction is not an effective course of action. Suffice it to say that the future feels a bit stressful right now.
And she can laugh at the days to come...
The phrase caught my attention immediately, and I tried to brush it off by saying that the woman of Proverbs 31 already had a career and family picked out for her (that's the thing about ancient middle-eastern culture: not much choice in those matters!) and could laugh at a predetermined fate that I clearly can't. Then I remembered my exegesis*, which reminded me that the Proverbs 31 lady is basically incarnate wisdom. Transcendent.
Wisdom- the wise 23-year-old, can laugh at the future. But why? How? And how does she keep from bursting into tears at 9:00?
Because...wisdom is the fear of the LORD, the only One who can be properly said to know the future, the One who has essentially left me the keys to my life and His kingdom and trusted me with them. There is no mistake I can possibly make, no fork I can possibly choose that I will take alone: that's the faithful promise of the Holy Spirit. On either side of the road there is a cross, and knowing that there will be suffering here and there does take out the element of scary surprise to some extent. Fearing God tends to shrink other fears to their proper dimensions.
And the ridiculous optimism of Proverbs 31?
I'm trying to imagine an appropriate laugh for wisdom here. I'm sure the Hebrew connotes a demure chuckle, but I prefer to envision a loud, milk-goes-up-your-nose and your-gut-is-tired-afterwards combination snort and explosion because the future is just so flippin' funny.
Wisdom can laugh raucously at the future because she caught the punch line in the comedy of errors, that the cross will be an awfully big adventure, and that growing up can actually be a bit of a riot.
Sure beats an ulcer- I might as well laugh along with her. =)
*exegesis: (exe-Jesus?) fun seminary word meaning "figure out what this phrase meant, taking into consideration the original language, historical context, literature elements, and dozens of commentaries by guys with cool names like Eusebius".
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