I see you, but you look like a tree walking around

Sean's been taking our small group through Mark. Last night we were discussing Mark 8. Every time I read that chapter this week, I felt it was for me. But then I'd get upset! I also stumbled across a man named Walter Ciszek who was a priest in WWII Russia. He was captive for 23 some years. He had this to say in one of his books:

"Across the threshold I had been afraid to cross, things suddenly seemed so very simple. There was but a single vision, God, who was all in all; there was but one will that directed all things, God's will. I had only to see it, to discern it in every circumstance in which I found myself, and let myself be ruled by it. God is in all things, sustains all things, directs all things. To discern this in every situation and circumstance, to see His will in all things, was to accept each circumstance and situation and let oneself be borne along in perfect confidence and trust. Nothing could separate me from Him, because He was in all things. No danger could threaten me, no fear could shake me, except the fear of losing sight of Him. The future, hidden as it was, was hidden in His will and therefore acceptable to me no matter what it might bring. The past, with all its failures, was not forgotten; it remained to remind me of the weakness of human nature and the folly of putting any faith in self. But it no longer depressed me. I looked no longer to self to guide me, relied on it no longer in any way, so it could not again fail me. By renouncing, finally and completely, all control of my life and future destiny, I was relieved as a consequence of all responsibility. I was freed thereby from anxiety and worry, from every tension, and could float serenely upon the tide of God's sustaining providence in perfect peace of soul

And then this:

"God’s will was not hidden somewhere ‘out there’ . . . the situations [in which I found myself] were his will for me. What he wanted was for me to accept these situations as from his hands, to let go of the reins and place myself entirely at his disposal.”

Oooh. So now add that to this whole thing of me wavering back and forth on whether I'm going to teach next year, where i'm going to teach next year, and having to fork our $$ to take the classes, and you get one anxious Angela. And then I come back to what Jesus says in Mark, and I keep thinking, "how on earth do I do that??" There are times when I want to, and times when I just plain don't.

My will and God's will. My will is still battling it out.