growing older but not quite growing up

i got my new, "grown-up" job a few weeks ago. working as a marketing assistant means suddenly i have to transform myself into Grown-up Grace every morning. suddenly i have to wear heels and black dresses every day. i drive to work, where i sit behind my very own desk in my very own office. i get to check my very own voicemail on my very own six-line phone. i even have to use my 'professional' voice. yet, in a weird way, i feel like im playing dress-up or something, that i cant possibly be an adult yet, that im still not 21. but i am. and it's kind of scary and nice at the same time. my new job is kind of a mixture of clerical work, writing, and public relations. its the kind of job i have dreamed about since i was little (yes, i was that much of a nerd. i asked for envelopes for my fifth birthday. i wanted to practice addressing them.

seriously.

just ask my sisters.) this afternoon i was sorting through materials on our large bulletin boards. it was my job to sort through them, pick out the relevant things, and toss the insignificant ones. i weeded through hundreds of sheets of paper, each filled with information. i read about lost dogs and bicycles, found out there is an abundance of apartments for rent, and that i can apparently take bellydancing for 12 dollars a lesson on thursday nights. wow.

anyways.

when i was done, i scooped up the trash and stood back to survey my work. it looked so much better, with just the relevant papers, well arranged to showcase campus events. yet as i looked i noticed...

there were still holes.

i had removed the clutter, but the holes were still there, and always they would speak of the pin that was there before i ripped it out. i thought about the clutter of the bulletin board before i cleared it. all those significant events drowned out by the ones clamoring for my attention. now it's clear. i can see again. but the holes will always be there. just like life.

i took a good look at my day planner today. its held together by a rubber band, since i long since gave up trying to corral my small avalanche of papers that i jam into it. its scrawled with notes to myself, notes to others, phone numbers of people whose name i forgot to write down and therefore never called back. but the events....its packed, cover to cover, with things i have committed to. some necessary...most not. i feel like i have been living in a whirlwind lately, running around here and there, meetings and deadlines, articles, emails, homework,and my job. it's been a hectic junior year in college. its a huge bulletin board, and everything wants my attention. i am that bulletin board you see with layers of events, because its so full.

i want to tear out all the insignificant. i feel God has been speaking into me....slow down. stop and listen. watch. be intentional. love people. slow. down. Grown-up Grace still hasn't quite learned how to just be still. i went out to worship this morning, at 6am (yes, really. i really got up at 6. i know.) and it was incredible. an hour and a half of worship, where you find a place to sit in the sanctuary and reflect and just be still. the sanctuary has huge picture windows that stretch from floor to ceiling. the sun was just rising, so i knelt there. the other hundred people spilled out over the sanctuary, some sitting, some standing. i hit the floor, suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to kneel. we sang "wholly yours' by david crowder, and it said "the truest sign of grace is this, from a broken earth, flowers come up, pushing through the dirt." that line stuck with me. i hope thats a sign i carry. that it can be my truest sign of Grace. that i can clear the weeds enough to watch God spring the flowers out of my dirt, redeeming the broken. He does it all the time. ive seen it. i loved that for a brief hour this morning...my bulletin board was empty, save for Jesus. all i had to do was worship. and all thats left were the holes. the same holes that brought me redemption when they marked the wrists of my Saviour. holes. always there, always visible, and when i clear my schedule, wipe the bulletin board off, all anyone can see are the holes.

clear it off, oh God.