I'm usually the type of person who likes to stay busy. In college I put effort into making new friends, joining on-campus activities, and taking classes outside my main field of study. I was usually able to balance all those things pretty well, but the extra logistics of graduation and a senior thesis to complete made my final semester feel like a marathon-length sprint to the finish line.
At the end of every day, my to-do list was longer than it had been that morning. I was sleeping far less than I should and eating fewer regular meals. By early April, the constant hustle of year-end preparations had me weary. I felt, to quote J.R.R. Tolkien's famous hobbit Bilbo in The Lord of the Rings, “like butter scraped over too much bread.”
But there's a funny thing about spring. As winter draws to a close, everything looks fresh and green and as if it could sing.
One day this past April while on my way to class, I noticed a patch of grass full to bursting with dandelions that were opening to greet the day. Dandelions are nostalgic for me, reminding me of my grandparents’ hometown and joyful parades in celebration of spring. Seeing the flowers made me stop in my tracks. Standing right there while cutting across a parking lot, those simple flowers made me let loose my first real laugh in days.
What did the flowers know about test stress, tuition payments, or plans after graduation? Nothing. They'd probably be cut away in a few days with the first mowing of the year, but for now they were beautiful.
I picked a few to breathe in their honey-sunshine smell, hoping to anchor myself to that moment. It worked. The joy of those dandelions buoyed me through the rest of that day and into the next.
Even though they did get mown down eventually, their brief few days lining my path to school gave me enough joy to take a few moments of rest. Recognizing that God provided those moments helped inspire a new prayer for my last days at college as well.
“God, whatever today brings, help me find enough joy and rest to get through it.”
Enough. I didn't want or need extravagance, just a way to keep treading water, moving forward, and know I wasn't alone. Enough joy kept popping up. I kept finding enough moments to rest and refuel. In those chaotic last days of the semester, my prayers for enough made me think of the Israelites' journey through the wilderness in the book of Exodus (ch. 16). God, asking for radical trust from the Israelites, commands that they collect only enough manna to last until the next day.
I felt similar provision during the hectic weeks at the end of college. Just when I felt I could go no further, I’d stumble upon some small reminder that there was more to life than the next exam.
While the pace of my day-to-day life has calmed down somewhat, I've kept praying for enough. Being diligent in doing so has helped me frame regular life around God’s gifts, which I used to see less often. Some days it's as simple as a turtle swimming under a bridge when I’ve been walking all day and need an excuse to stop, lean against a railing, and laugh. Sometimes it's a text out of the blue from someone I've lost touch with.
Whatever form these small pauses take in my daily rhythm, I’m glad that God used the busyness of my final semester in college to teach me to live slower, while intentionally seeking the joy and rest he shares with all of us.