Do you ever develop nebulous cravings? You're hungry, and you want a specific food item to satiate that hunger. But you can't put your finger on what that item may be? Mentally you run through all your favorite foods: "nachos... nope. chocolate... nope. chili... nope. double cheeseburger... nope. greek salad... nope." Hoping that while you're perusing your mental list, you'll stumble over that one thing which would satisfy your unnamed craving. (Okay, so maybe no one else does this and I just have issues. Surprise, surprise.)

In short, I've been having that "nebulous craving" in my writing. There is something- something that I need to say, need to write, need to express, that I'm unable to pin-point and transcribe. It's like an itch in the middle of your back- you just can't reach it.

Today, thanks to an honest friend, I discovered what it is I am to write. Humor me.

During this past semester, as readers may know, I have experienced what can only be described as a "trial by fire." (a.k.a. "graduate school") During this period, I allowed my self-sufficiency to dictate my chances of success and my daily pursuit of that success. Consequently, God in all his love and justice, allowed me to stumble, and fall with such frequency that (looking back) I appeared to be down more than I was up.

I've always thought of myself as an incredibly cheerful, bubbly person. That is probably because I've always had an easy, sunny life. It is very easy to be happy and content when there is nothing wrong in your existence. Oh sure, there were little bumps and trials, but nothing dark and eclipsing. Until this semester...

Everything was shot down- academics, health, success, money, control, men's approbation. Blips in one or two of these areas had come before. But never all at once. And this semester, for the first time, I experienced what could only be described as depression. I was crippled in a black cloud of failure, and I didn't want to move. Every day, I cried or burst into fits of anger at my helplessness. I lost my appetite, lost my desire to excel, lost my desire to work, lost my desire to do laundry and clean (poor roomie!).

But God taught me his sufficiency.

And although I raged at Him ("Why are you teaching me this lesson!?! It's stupid! I'm never going to learn it perfectly- not in my entire life. So why are you even trying? You're cruel!") He continued to teach.

And now, as I'm standing at another moment of indecision and uncertainty. (Nothing in my life is very certain as of yet... I have no idea where I will be in 14 months, or what I'll do within those 14 months.) I see, in a small, glimmer of a way, why He was so persistent. I may never perfectly learn the lesson of the sufficiency of my God. I may never lean with total and complete confidence on His plan and His will.

But I will lean a little more.

And with a little more leaning, comes a little more peace. And with a little more peace, comes a little more trust. And with a little more trust, comes a little more leaning. So that in future times of uncertainty (oh wait, that's what life is...), I will trust my Father.

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. (James 1:2,3)