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What we call the beginning is often the end
And to make and end is to make a beginning.
The end is where we start from.
-TS Eliot

Tonight this difficult yet unfathomably rich season of life comes to a close. Tomorrow my new roommate moves into the apartment.

For the first time in almost eleven months I will not live alone. This marks the end of a time of want and waiting, all-the-while tasting (though reluctantly) the unexpected provision and unwavering hope that only God can provide. I’ve spent eleven months terrified for the most part – asking God to open his hand and take care of me. And he has. The floodgates have opened and I’ve drunk deeply of his goodness. But even amidst miraculous moments of provision, I’ve not trusted him because sometimes his provision doesn’t look like provision. At times it’s looked like foolishness or an almost-empty bank account, yet he’s been gracious enough with me to continuously take away the things (like a roommate) I did not need until the right time; until now.  He gave me almost a year to pause, to be still, to heal, to grow and to get back up on my feet again. Even when I could not see his hand, he’s cared for me as he’s cared for the sparrows in Matthew 6, never failing to provide for my needs.

Tonight marks the bittersweet welcome of a new season – the shape and flavor I won’t know anything about until tomorrow afternoon.

I’ve worked hard all weekend to create space for Marie. Tonight I rest. Tonight I lay in humble gratitude remembering and celebrating the reality that God has provided for all my needs according to his riches in glory by Christ. Tonight I rest knowing full well that as I enter into this next season he has not and will not forget about me.