Focus.

Drive.

Dedication.

Excellence.

Growing up, I came to value each of these. They were traits I admired and intentionally cultivated. Decade after decade, I strengthened these characteristics. As I matured in the faith and had greater clarity of purpose, each still aligned with the universal call to holiness based on capacity to connect to virtue over vice.

Yet, with time I have realized, it is not so straight forward. Each of these have also contributed to tendencies to push too hard and to place my worth in what I was doing, rather than inherent dignity and worth. The need for healing was inevitable.

These days, He is teaching me to wander.

He is showing me that often the pathway to a destination includes curves, rather than being a straight-forward linear route. Even though I have embraced the importance of valuing the process and not just the final product, I am discovering it is more challenging for me to do so amidst the indefinite unknown.

Sure, I was able to enjoy the adventures of walking a portion of El Camino de Santiago with the Spanish club during college. There was a set time limit that one way or another, I would be in Santiago by a certain date and then returning to Madrid in order to fly back home. As such, it was easier to laugh at the unexpected and delight in the surprises.

Sure, I was able to savor writing my dissertation. There was a process outlined of the different chapters necessary and a general timeline of when I would be finished. When my MacBook crashed right after I had just finished transcribing my final interview, I wrote, "It's okay. It's okay. It's okay" again and again as I talked to support. My gut clenched as I realized I wouldn't be getting anything back that I had not yet backed up. Yet, there was also a clear pathway forward. Though inconvenient and time-consuming, the steps were still there. I just needed to backtrack and re-do some of them.

Eventually I was even able to see the great beauty in the labor process. Though I experienced the greatest pain in my lifetime by the end of each birth, I knew that once labor progressed to a certain point, it had to be over within a certain amount of time. Relief would come.

Though each of these experiences had layers I was able to translate to different contexts, I began to recognize that it was not so easy when there wasn't a general timeline and the path was less clear. My capacity to embrace the unknown grows with time; nonetheless, there are still plenty of scenarios that push beyond my comfort zone. There are many moments in which I crave a sense of template of what to expect or getting to a place where I can be certain that it will all work out as I am hoping. I want certainty that I am not wasting my time or "getting it wrong" by investing my time in something that doesn't really matter.

Nonetheless, He is showing me that the curves aren't just something to endure but that they are actually for me - part of His intentional plan. They contribute to my healing, allowing me to move at a pace that is more sustainable. They also create space for experimenting and exploring. Along the way, they develop dimensions of myself that would not be revealed if my pathway was direct and focused.

I am learning to see the beauty of going deep and wide. The curves are an answer to St. Paul's prayer,

that [the Father] may grant you in accord with the riches of his glory to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in the inner self, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; that you, rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the holy ones what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God (Ephesians 3:16-19).

All of the curves are creating capacity for me to be filled with Him.

Let it be done to me, Lord. Thank you for working all things for my good.