I have probably sat down to write this a half a dozen times. I always knew what I wanted to say but could never find the right words, or the right moment to express my thoughts. I found that weird since the topic I had on my heart and was obsessing over in my mind was the idea of being content in my obedience to where God was calling me.
If I felt content, why couldn’t I write this months ago? Why couldn’t I find the right words? Why did I feel the moment had to be right, that I had to be fully convinced I was content?
Honestly, because I am imperfect. I am human. Something I forget about myself sometimes.
While I so desperately wanted to share the faithfulness of God and the overwhelming feeling of contentment one day, I found that the next day I was struggling to understand the purpose of getting out of bed.