finishing

I was in an English class in high school studying handwriting analysis when I learned something really insightful about myself. I'm not a finisher. When I write my name without a real concerted effort, I start with big, strong letters, scrawl out the middle and end with a swoosh rather than anything legible. If you tried to interpret it, you might guess my name is Rebew Sutt. This is very telling. I am a visionary. I start strong, work diligently for about 80% of the project, and then finish with a scribble or a line or a pile of supplies and tools in the garage, leaving the last 20% undone indefinitely. That's why it felt like such a big deal to me when I placed the last piece in this puzzle.

Early in the spring, Dale registered us for the ETS Annual Meeting in Rhode Island. He booked airfare, rented a car, and reserved our room. I was over the moon in anticipation of it. I love that part of the country and couldn't wait to go back. By the end of the summer, the conference was canceled and rescheduled as a virtual experience. I was heart-broken. We got the reservations cancelled and the airfare was returned as a voucher, but our annual getaway was stripped right out of our hopes and dreams. 

A few weeks before the conference would go live, we started tossing around the idea of getting away somewhere to watch it. I knew that it would be impossible to give full attention to anything requiring that level of intellect while we were home, and honestly, I was starting to spin-out emotionally. Dale found us a quiet place by the lake in Branson, and we made arrangements to spend the better part of the week there, just him and me. 

When we got to town, we bought groceries so we wouldn't have to leave if we didn't want to, and settled into the quiet of  Fall Creek. Dale started the video of the first presenter, and I started sorting the pieces. 

 

 We ate sushi around dinner time, and he listened to one paper after the next. I worked on the puzzle, worked through a stack of books, and worked on an embroidery project throughout the week. In the mornings, I got up early, wrapped myself in a blanket and sat on the deck in quiet meditation. It was completely restful. There were times when I was tempted to make lists, handle affairs, manage things at home, but I refrained. Instead of clouding my mind with busyness, I just came back to my puzzle working one piece at a time, one color at a time. I cannot fully articulate the satisfaction that flooded over me when I finished. My soul needed rest and I found it. 

I never dreamed that Dale and I would be afforded this kind of getaway with the number of children that we have. I always thought those kinds of luxuries were for other people, but God knew we would need it, and He arranged it for us from the beginning. I'm feeling overwhelmingly grateful to love and serve God, who tends to my needs so perfectly.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11