Loaves, fish and storage units

I recently had a moment straight out of the New Testament. I'm talking Jesus' ministry at it's finest...ok, maybe that's a bit overboard. It was really more like an "I told you so" kind of moment, only it was God saying it, so it sounded more like "Just trust me, please."

A little over a week ago I finished up my sophomore year of college. (I'm half way through, God willing. How crazy is that?) Anyways, as exciting as finishing up another year is, there was one thing looming after the completion of finals.

Moving.

Packing and moving is just awful. Can I get an Amen?

Well, in preparation for the dreaded event, my sweet daddy arranged for a storage unit in Belton so that I would not have to lug an apartment full of furniture all the way home and then back again in the fall. All there was to do was get it all in the unit. Simple enough, right?

Not so much. Thanks to me and my worrying, anyways.

After driving three hours to come help with the move, my dad went with me to inspect the unit and see what we were workin with. When the door rolled up on our space, the first thought in my mind was "Where's the rest of it?" Once I finally came to the revelation that there was no trap door anywhere waiting to reveal more room, I started to freak out a little...ok, maybe a lot. Unfortunately, I have a tendency to do that.

Luckily for me, my dad is the most calm and optimistic person I know. He's a saint, really.

Immidiately I started worrying about what we were gooing to do when it didn't all fit, and where all the rest of the stuff was gonna go. (In my defence, we had two sofas, about 5 tables and whole lot of other stuff going in a 5 X 10 unit. That's tiny, people. TINY!) I thought the worst. My dad on the other hand, never questioned. He just knew it would be enough room.

At some point in the midst of my frivolous banter, sweet Leah reminded me of the loaves and fish story. At the time I was still unconvinced, and a little annoyed that she too was blind to the horrific situation we were in.

About two hours, a herd of helpful college boys and several truck fulls of stuff later, it was all in the unit. All of it plus some. And with room to spare.

Oh, me of little faith. Just when will I learn? In the big and the small, God always provides. He provides more than enough. Beyond what we ask or imagine.

I know it's a small example, but for me it was a great reminder of how in control He is, and how much I often doubt and worry when I should just shut up and trust Him. I am a self professing chronic worrier. Right now, I could list half a dozen things that I am stressing over, thinking they won't work out. So many times I come up on a situation and it seems impossible to me. But, the thing is, God has never not provided. Not once.

And, luckily for me, He is always patient with my old worrying self. And, he gave me a pretty darn patient daddy to remind me when I forget.

Mansion? Apartment? Shack? House? Major? Career?

Remember that old game M.A.S.H. that we used to play as kids? Well, if you ever owned an NSYNC or Aaron Carter CD, wore doc martens, or planned your weekend around TGIF and One Saturday Morning then I'm sure you played it at least a time or two. And most likely way more than that. Probably an unhealthy amount. If you're being honest.

For some reason (boredom) I randomly thought of that little childhood gem today while sitting through my philosophy class (what is thought? what is sitting? what is philosophy?), and I started wondering. Why can't making decisions be as easy as that anymore? Why can't we just rip out a piece of paper from an old spiral notebook, write out all the options and scratch off all the ones that don't make the cut until we're just left with one. When did everything become so much more complicated than that?

Sometimes I think college is just four years (God willing) of nothing but confusion. Back in elementary school the biggest decision we had to make was whether to choose chicken nuggets or a corn dog in the cafeteria. Basically every part of our lives was planned and orchestrated by someone else. Now I'd give anything to have my parents here on a daily basis just to pick my clothes out every morning and remind me to do my homework. What bliss.

Quite a few times while playing M.A.S.H. the odds did not fall in my favor. I ended up "marrying" the awkward kid from English class who ate chapstick and having twenty-seven hampsters for pets. But you know, if only those big life decisions were as simple as that, I'd gladly end up in the shack. Just as long as I didn't have to go through the process of figuring it all out.