Stretching the Rubberband

We put a deposit on a small apartment in Richmond the Saturday after Christmas, so the last step in my attending Earlham School of Religion for the Spring term (so called) has fallen into place, except for buying furniture. As it happens we have a spare futon, a spare kitchen table and two space kitchen chairs, a spare wicker "armchair," some spare standing lamps ... and the place comes with a built-in bookcase, so what more do I need? And my friend Jane just received a pickup truck as a gift from her father ... everything has, as I mentioned, fallen into place.

I do love Barnesville, I love Stillwater meeting, I love the stillness and the lack of traffic here, the rolling hills and how easy day-to-day life is and how cordial people are. I like no longer measuring my life in stop lights. I like Olney Friends School. I really was having a problem with uprooting again, after having just moved to Barnesville, ( and what an upheaval that was) to now "up and" go 3 and half hours away. But then I realized I will still be in Barnesville four days a week. I'll be home most Sundays for Stillwater meeting; I will still meet Sophie once a week for lunch. I will be sleeping in my bed here five nights out of seven. I'm not uprooting. I'm simply stretching my rubber band. That's my new metaphor ... stretching the rubber band. I hope it doesn't snap.

I think this must be a species of leading, as I've felt, in a way, as if I've floated through all of this. Having said that, it's my will--my volition--that has done all the acting. I, not an angel, filled out the applications, wrote the essays, solicited the recommendations, mailed the forms, made the phone calls, registered for the classes and found the apartment, but all along it has felt oddly out of body, as if some force were propelling me. Pushing and pulling. It doesn't altogether make sense to me to do this, but I'm trying to flow with it. If it's not a leading, it's demonic possession ... but it doesn't feel that way.

But how would I know? (Anybody with a good exorcist up their sleeve?) Actually, I do think demonic possession would feel ... less peaceful, more anxious, more frenzied. But that's just from watching horror movies ... and, oh yeah, reading the Bible. So it's probably a leading. Time will tell.

As for me going to divinity school, I know God uses cracked vessels.

Any thoughts?