I’ve been thinking a lot about growth lately.
I would be lying if I told you senior year hasn’t kicked my butt. It has. Each week seems more challenging than the last, if I’m being entirely honest; I’ve got at least one college application to complete each week until the end of October, my coursework is plenty difficult, and there just doesn’t seem to be enough hours in the day. I’ve already had so many late nights doing homework, finishing an essay, and/or crying.
But it is so comforting, reassuring, and amazing to know that I am growing because of it all.
It’s no coincidence that at the same time I’ve been enthralled by this idea of growth, I’ve also become increasingly enamored with flowers. With my kindergarten-level artistic skills, I drew a little flower on my wrist the other night after praying because I felt like God had been telling me that He’s using my circumstances to grow me. I don’t usually care much about physical beauty or attractiveness, but bouquets are certainly an exception. I love how vibrant the colors are; the brightest blooms just call to mind the description violently alive. (Not swords and fistfights violent, but proud and bold violent.) I’d love to be like that. Violently alive: claiming this life with a force that seems almost unnecessary.
I am growing toward a fuller life, a life with more Jesus, more love, more people, and more good things. As I cry my way through senior year, as I press submit on application after application, as I freak out quite a lot, I am growing. It’s why this space is receiving a makeover and a revamping: I’m growing to take charge of my responsibilities, including my writing. I’m growing to pursue the things that I care about and/or that I am called to and let the rest go. In the wise words of Albert Einstein, “In the middle of difficulty lies opportunity.” I refuse to let these difficulties go by without wringing every last drop of opportunity out of them. Each and every struggle is growing me, and I am grateful for it.