Grad school.

I'm in my second year, and guys, it has been crazy.

On the bright side, I am learning so, so much. And it is applicable for me and my life. God has confirmed multiple times that we are right where he wants us-- well,me at least, but Ben is my husband, so that's good enough, right? (I kid. Sort-of.) We have a great community, a house full of crazies, a dog that is super cute.

My life is grand.

Except when it isn't.

The dark side of this semester can really only be seen when you look at my calendar.

Yes, that sounds ridiculous, but it is so true.

I'm going to school fifteen hours, working twenty, studying anywhere from five to ten on a good week, trying to be a good friend, a great wife and point others to Jesus specifically and incidentally along the way.

Before you stop reading, I want you to know: No. This is not going to be a complaint fest.

What it is going to be is a confession of a sin experienced, and a lesson that's being learned.

But before that begins, a little history:

ah-hem

Long, long ago--about twenty-seven years, one month, to be exact--this big bundle of girly joy blessed the Gingrich clan. Her name was, and still is, Paige.

Over the years, this girl has been called fearless, outgoing, gutsy, unafraid. Has conquered mountains--literally, spent a few months in the Himalayans once-- volcanoes, screaming children and a few that hit, went everywhere, knew everyone, never had a care in the world.

Seriously, guys. I didn't. There was never anything that even really ever gave me pause. Honestly, I can really say, never.

I have a great friend who struggles with anxiety, and all I could do was pray for her, because empathy seemed beyond me.

My own grandmother and mother would look at me wide-eyed in wonder because they had never even thought of taking the outgoing steps that I had just taken.

I was an all-or-nothing, one-life-to-live, worry-about-it-when-it-comes kind of gal.

Until September.

My second year of graduate school has introduced me to a totally new realm of something I have had very little experience with: anxiety.

I could go on and on about how much I have worried, how badly I have eaten, how many miles I have pounded out till the soles of my shoes are gone. The late nights, the tossing and turning, the tears.

And I don't CRY! (There's no crying in grad school.)

Sorry.

Uselessly worried about things I have no control over, and useless to do anything about it.

Enter, faith.

See, it sounds easy, right? Faith is the answer to all your woes. Get out of your rocking chair of worry and start stepping towards God!

But it wasn't. Nope. Not even close to that easy. Not even close to easy.

In the past three months, I have had a lot of those, flat on your face, nothing to say quiet kind of prayers.

But God, in all His goodness, redefined my situation. Where I was pushing for "Paige you need more faith," He pushed for "Paige obey me right now".

Let me explain...

I heard a sermon three summers ago about "Saying "yes" to righteousness". In it, the pastor urged his listeners that God wants out right now--not our tomorrow, not necessarily our lives, but the next five minutes.

That if we made a habit of saying "yes" to Him right now-now, then in the next right now, and the next, and so on, that saying yes to Him tomorrow, and saying yes to Him with our lives would take care of itself.

It makes me think of that verse, you know when Jesus said, "Do not worry about tomorrow for today has enough trouble of its own"?

Or was that Bilbo?

Kidding.

Maybe Jesus wan't necessarily trying to tell us that worry or anxiety was a sin, and we should avoid it at all costs.

Maybe instead, He was saying, "Hey, it's all about My glory. Work on that in this minute. And see those flowers and birds, and all the other things I so meticulously created? I will take care of you even more than them, because you're special. And I love you."

Maybe that was part of it.

So here's to anxiety not being used as a tool for my life not to absolutely sing of His fame.

And here's to a God who shoves answers in this stubborn girl's face.

I wish I had time to talk to you about how much worth He has given me through this. Not because of the A's I've made or the scholarships I've gotten, but because of the measuring stick I was using in my own life that He snatched away and replaced with His Son.

Wow. For real.

I wish I had time to tell you of the conversations I've had about Him, the prayers that have been answered-- stories of His fight for my life, my attention, and His glory in everything around me.

But really all I want to do is encourage you to say yes to Him in this minute. Just do it. Really. Don't worry about tomorrow. Worry about the next five minutes.

Think about it. It will change your life, I think.

Yeah, that's all. Here's to the next five minutes.