T
oday was a long day. We drove down to Boston to see Elena's parents off on their flight, and a lot of overlapping affairs made a seven or eight hour day into a twelve hour marathon of travel. I'm usually pretty good at handling inconveniences and waiting times, but there was something about the day that really started to get to me at a certain point. Basically, if things are out of my hands, I can deal with it. But if I feel like I'm wasting time specifically because I missed something; or if I'm locked in a situation in which I'm perpetually deciding between whether to keep waiting for option A, or cut my losses and try option B -- this sort of thing can drive me up the wall.
Those kinds of scenarios are what the Desert looks like for me. I know that it's there that I have to find Christ; there, where I will have to be stripped of my silly, fretting self. God does not leave useless moments lying around, and I think I did not make particularly good spiritual use of those purifying times. Hopefully I'll learn something for next time.