there is a time for everything

As you get older, you realize that there's a time for everything.

"There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace."
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

I never realized the depth of this passage until today. I had offered it to a friend yesterday who was coping with a tragedy in her life, but I realized that it wasn't just for those kinds of big things, but also for our day-to-day things. For my day-to-day things.

After switching around my class schedule around for the first time since coming to Penn, I've finally reached a pretty good schedule. Yes, I will have to study hardcore. Yes, I now have a 9am recitation on Fridays, but certain sacrifices must be made. A time to sleep and a time to learn.

I also had to leave Overflow (the dance ministry at my church) for this semester because Monday rehearsals conflict with my octet coaching time. This was unbelievably painful, to tell you the truth, and so I was adamant about not leaving at first, but I figured it was the right thing to do this time around. A time to be stubborn and a time to cooperate.

I feel myself withdrawing more and more into my room (now that it's twice as big as last year's, I actually have room for a fridge - with food - and space on my desk.) And this isn't that great health-wise, because I tend not to see the sun (I'm a vampire, bwahaha). But I think I need this break from the social person I know I am on the inside; it contributes to the gentle and quiet spirit. A time to emerge and a time to retire.

What I've learned from being at Penn so far (a grand total of 8 days) is that my plans are less than God's plans. Complete surrender doesn't mean just giving up what's convenient for me, what I've allotted for Him in my own mind - it means giving up everything, being completely uprooted even if it's not convenient for me at all.

And it's the little things that are the most difficult to give up. Yeah, investing more time into studying and being a hermit, shifting around some extra-curricular activities - those might seem like simple tasks, but in all honesty, they're harder to do than the cliched, "All right, I'll drop everything and go be a missionary in Africa for You." It goes against the little things that are so part of you that they're practically embedded in your skin. But there's a time to hold on and there's a time to let go.

God wants me to take pride in His perfect planning, not my own. So what can I say to that?