Unfinished

Photo by Lewis Ngugi on Unsplash

I’m staring at my computer screen, list of unfinished stories that contain everything from a few words that twig a short story idea to complete novels awaiting their final edit. I’m guessing there are enough files to fill my computer screen twice over. Waiting for me.

My computer lives under the window, amid stacks of unpacked boxes in a cordoned-off section of our unfinished basement—between what we hope will be the guest room and a second bathroom. Someday.

Upstairs, no matter how hard I try to keep up, I know there’ll be a dirty glass in the sink, and at least one new item in our bottomless laundry hamper. Never mind that I just folded and put away the clean stuff before I came down here.

Photo by qinghill on Unsplash

There’s an unfinished afghan in my yard basket. It's been there so long it could have decomposed by now.

It's been nine months since we moved here. I still haven’t decided which pictures to hang where.

Our house is a new build on the weed-infested, a.k.a. our yard. The builder has yet to complete our landscaping. Although the houses across the street got grass six weeks ago, we’re still waiting for topsoil.

Photo by qinghill on Unsplash

The entire street is a construction site. When it rains, mud cascades down the road and mounds around the raised storm drain. Once the road is paved I assume the drain will work better.

I’m I getting frustrated, you ask?

A bit. 

But the truth is I am as happy as a proverbial a pig in mud. Or perhaps the well-fed snake who lives in the back yard. (Hopefully he, and whoever he’s eating, will find other digs once we have grass.)

We moved here to be close to our oldest son and his family. It’s closing in on two years since my husband has been unable to work and, though we’ve no idea what our future holds, I do know this:

all the unfinished stuff in our lives that it's so easy to stew about doesn’t matter.

Photo by John-Mark Kuznietsov on Unsplash

In Philippians 1:6 Paul said,

I am certain that God, who began the good work within you [me, us], will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns. The New Living Translation

What could be better than that?

Finished stories, finished basements, finished yards may never happen, but our finished perfecting in Christ (if we love Him) is a sure thing.

How about you? 

Are the endless unfinished things in your life weighing you down? Yes, it takes effort and practice to rest in God’s promises, but they are a sure and safe place to rest your head. Truly.

Read Psalm 16 for encouragement. (I do.)

Jayne E. Self 

Canadian Mystery Author

Jayneself.com

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