Which Genre Are You?

Typical of my fascination with verbal communication, one of my favorite life-metaphors is that of a book. Equally typical of me, I wonder a great deal about what will be written on the next page of my life's story.

In literal life, I don't "do" suspense or mystery stories, as such. I actually enjoy these books a great deal more if I read the beginning, followed by the end, and finally the middle. Resting content while in ignorance of the future just isn't my idea of exhilarating.

Maybe that's why the Lord has chosen to consistently keep me in the dark about His ideas for my future these last few years...being much more likely to tell me what He wants me to do tomorrow than to give some awesome vision of what He has in mind for the next year. Because He knows that I needed to glimpse the depth of a joy that is found only in "resting content."

I'm not "there" yet. But I've glimpsed what quiet contentment can be. And I know I want it to be mine. Mine, always. Not just transiently.

For anyone else that happens to be taking an occasional peek at my life-book, the only thing I know about its current status is that a chapter is closing, and a new chapter in the offing.

New chapter to be titled "Seattle." Scene to be a new ministry for my family in a small church north of the city. Details unknown.

The imperfect heroine-wannabe is, as usual, excited at the hope of seeing where the road will go after it rounds the next bend. (FYI: she is allowed to mix her metaphors without notice.) Sadly predictable, she's also a little scared. As is further normal, she finds herself at one level admitting usual dislike of boxes, moving vans, and storage units--all born of too great a familiarity. And yet, at another level, she is finding stability and contentment. As usual, it's a contentment that comes only in knowing far beyond a glimmering shadow of doubt that the Author really does know what He's up to.

Really, I guess I couldn't say I'm a "thriller." Nothing so very unusual is happening after all....