The Right Thing at the Wrong Time

The right thing at the wrong time is still the wrong thing.

Such simple words, spoken by a wise woman.

The right thing
at the wrong time
is still the wrong thing.

I have pages and pages of notes from the Influence conference this weekend but that line keeps resonating with me. Unlike it seemed to be for a lot of people, Influence wasn't a super-fun amazingwonderfulspectacular weekend for me. It was, however, thought-provoking and life-affirming. Really, I couldn't think of a better way to sum up this past year. It seemed like each speaker in the "Life" track sessions addressed a different aspect of my 2012.

I slept less than I should have, but that was more thanks to taking Sudafed before bed than to late-night conversations. Even though my roommates and I weren't up late chatting, I couldn't have asked for a better group of girls. Chelsea, Heather, and Emily were easy-going, low-maintenance, and down-to-earth. (And I now know that when your friend is not 6 feet 3 inches tall, it's totally possible to comfortably share a full-sized bed with someone and not touch.)

From dinner Thursday night

So have I been influenced? Absolutely. I'm ready to set this little light of mine on a hill. Witnessing God's work this year has been the joy of my heart and it's growing harder and harder not to share what he's done: pain, mess, and all.

Yet I hesitate. I'm nothing if not impulsive. All-or-nothing. Black and white. This weekend re-affirmed that this season I'm in? It's called waiting. And I'm so pleased to obey my good and gracious Father for once. I don't need to move forward for the sake of progress. I don't need to rationalize decisions and barge into something that allows my kingdom to come and my will to be done. That's ugly. And I've done that for far, far too long.

I feel the simultaneous and conflicting, yet complimentary tensions between 1 Peter 3 and Isaiah 54:

Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight. [1 Peter 3:3-4]

I've spent so much time being quiet and bitter, or quiet and scared, or quiet and awkward. But finally, I feel the tug toward a quiet and gentle spirit.  At the same time, the Lord says,

Enlarge the place of your tent,
stretch your tent curtains wide,
do not hold back;
lengthen your cords,
strengthen your stakes.
For you will spread out to the right and to the left;
your descendants will dispossess nationsand settle in their desolate cities. [Isaiah 54:2-3]

I loved that image when Jessi read this verse on Friday. The call to stretch your tent curtains and lengthen your cords is a call I've reluctantly and unwillingly answered this year. But in retrospect, God is using this stress to strengthen my stakes and I'm rooted anew in a Savior I can never deserve.

I still have a lot to think about and digest, but I'm grateful for this weekend. Grateful for vulnerability. Grateful that I had the opportunity to leave home and become a part of this 'tribe of women,' if you will. And I'm overwhelmingly grateful that absence makes the heart grow fonder and I came home to husband willing to listen to me sort some of this stuff out. So grateful.

P.S. The hotel was attached to a nice mall and I finally tried on a pair of Toms. I bought them on the spot. They're like sweatpants for your feet. Watch out, world. My wardrobe just got more casual. (I can hear Ross cringing already).