Life is a temp job

Life is a temp job - pink

Back when I wrote this post in 2012, every part of my life was permeated and dominated by school.

Each day I rose at ridiculous hours, ran full-speed ahead through tests, classes, and social engagements, and drank copious amounts of caffeine in an attempt to trick my internal body clock (which was very annoyed with me, by the way.) My to-do list revolved around school assignments and so did my sleep schedule, social life, and emotional state.

I thought it would never end.

But then one May day I was handed a glossy diploma tube, and life flipped upside down. After twenty years of tests and grades, I was abruptly an alumnus. That season had ended.

Today was Commencement Day here in Aggieland.  Thousands of college students walked across a stage in a gown that felt like a camping tent and entered their post-college lives.

Every season of life is just that–seasonal.

Winter won’t always frost your windshield, and the blistering heat of summer will eventually succumb to the steady tilt of the earth.

Singleness is a season.
Childhood feels like an eternity, but then you’re an adult.
There are seasons of waiting for an answer or direction,
times of unemployment,
of wrangling little ones,
or having an empty nest.

Seasons may overlap or last so many decades that we have forgotten a time before, but all are temporary. Our lives are like temp jobs–a breath, and we are gone. 

I can’t grasp at the good of my current season, hanging all my hope on it. It’s fragile branches were never meant to bear the weight of my well-being or identity.

I also can’t let the hard of my season crush me into despair, as if the earth will never again turn toward the sun. Even in Auschwitz, even in Cambodia’s killing fields, even when the grown-up nativity child hung naked on a cross, God was on his throne. And He was good.

Seasons of life ebb and flow, but the Ocean will remain.

2 Corinthians 4:18
So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.

My self-imposed prompt word for this post was “temporary.”

Photo credit: edits mine

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