Where I'm supposed to be

An entire month has passed.

Oh yes, I like stating the obvious. Obviously.

I glance over the scrawly pages of my journal. My eyes light on September 22.

"A day or two ago Aunt Sharon thanked me for all my help with the Bible school. I said I didn't think I was doing that much, and she said, 'But I keep seeing you with the girls, helping with cooking, leading choir, and doing the Feast display. That's quite a bit. Thank you for just being here!'

'Well, thank God,' I told her, 'because my plan wasn't to be here!'"

It's true. If it had been left up to me, I wouldn't be here right now. I would have been far away, buried in classes on ancient Greece and the U.S. Constitution. I would have had evening catch-up sessions with my friend each night as we flossed our teeth together. I would have been chirping through Handel's Messiah with the choir. I would have gotten to sample my cousin's gourmet cooking in his very own kitchen.

But it wasn't meant to be.

And yet--and yet . . . I don't regret it. Do I still miss that lovely dream? Sure I do, but neither am I sad about it. If I had gone far away to college I wouldn't have gotten to buy bowls of chocolates for the Bible school girls or run down the sand dunes with them or make a choir happen for the Convention. I wouldn't have gotten to play sports twice a week in the dearest gym I know or had the thrill of creating a unique display for the Convention or the delight of attending almost every single meeting in that same Convention. I wouldn't have had that awesome impromptu prayer meeting or had that same focus to battle for people I love or have gone on that crazy expedition in the woods. I wouldn't have talked about Jesus with with my former English student on that mountain hike or had that chance to visit my brother in Pennsylvania or the opportunity to mail odd packages to college buddies. I wouldn't have flooded my friend's room with sticky notes reminding her of her identity in Christ or have seen my brother conduct his choir or curled up and watched that thought-provoking movie with that friend. I wouldn't have heard that song of trust that my brother sang, moving me to tears. I wouldn't have had that song singing in quite the same way in my own life.

I don't always think like this. Usually I either enjoy the moment and move carelessly on or ask analytical questions about the purpose of my life. But sometimes, at unexpected moments, I have this sensing:

I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.

And for that, I am thankful.