3.09.2006

 

reposted

Chewing on the tip of her black ballpoint pen, she thumbed through the pages of her assignment notebook, looking for an an empty spot where she could tutor her friend for an upcoming Pre-calc test. It seemed like the time slots of her week had been already been crammed with things that needed to be done during the week: Pick up tickets for Charity Dinner, 7:15 - National Honor Society Meeting, 5:00 - Stanford Interview, Monday - Yearbook deadline. With a quick scan, she could tell that there was little white space to be given to logistic functions... but with a sigh, she penciled in "Barnes and Nobles tutoring - 7:30" on Thursday night.

"Don't look at your schedule. It'll just make you more apprehensive about the coming week." He always worried about her. The book that he bought her five months ago so she could be more organized was something that caused a certain level of discomfort in his gut.

"You know I can't just not look at it.... " she flipped the pages the 17th and recited the scribbles out loud. "I have to work on an Othello paper, then a MVC test. Oh, then dinner with Susie and Ellen... hmm, not bad for a Friday."

He stopped flipping through the shuffle on her iPod and raised his glance. "You forgot about small groups this friday..."

"Oh shoot. Can you hand me that green pen?" She furrowed her brow without looking up, flipping back and forth from the 17th to the 18th. "I guess I can work on my paper on Saturday..." She felt the pen being dropped into her outstretched hand, and haphazardly scratched out 'Othello paper.' The scratches and scribbles slowly faded with her musings, as the buzzing silence of her room became increasingly sharp.

"... What?"

He looked back down at the blinking screen. "Nothing. Let me see your schedule." She bit her lip and slowly closed the the pages. "Okay..." He held the worn out schedules in his hands. Hundreds of hours, planned out to the minute reigned over her life. With a sudden burst of disgust, he flung the book out the open window, watching the projectile disappear into the night sky. "You don't schedule God in."

The book landed outside with a soft thud. Its outline from her second story dorm lay like a broken snow angel in the freshly fallen snow. The howling wind from an impending winter storm claimed the book as its own, as it slowly disappeared under the swirling vortex of cold.

"... I can't believe you just did that."

There was a silenced air of disappointment surrounding his words. "Fine, whatever. Go fish it out then. Don't forget to pencil it in. 6:47 PM - Retrival of schedule from snow."

When that great thing happens.... you don't take the time to pencil it in. You let it happen.






"today's been kinda weird..."
"cause you don't have your watch on?"
"... yeah.."

it's been a bit disorienting today and yesterday without a watch. i think it forces me to either a) neurotically check my cell phone, clocks, and ask people for the time and come off as even more neurotic than i am now, or b) trust God that He has time in His hands.

i'm hoping the latter will happen.
... God, i want You to happen.



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