The last time I shared on this blog was right after Christmas, Dec 27th. Embedded in the first paragraph of that post were the following comments…
“Our journeys belong to the Divine. Our stories are about uncovering who we were created to be- our purpose on this earth.”
I believe with all my heart that our journeys and therefore our stories are sacred. I recently posted on Facebook, that being sacred or holy is about being connected or consecrated to God. So no matter the circumstance, God’s Spirit is within and around, behind in our past and ahead in our future. We walk the path together. It’s all sacred…
Even when it doesn’t feel sacred. Even when it’s messy, confusing, painful, or simply a time of silence or isolation. God is both present and providing what we need when we need it.. In the post of December 27th, I alluded to what a challenging year it had been. I didn’t share all that I had been feeling. The fall of 2019, I was dealing with the inner turmoil that can come when one season is closing and a new one beginning but still unclear. The truth is I was saying goodbye to roles that had been core to my identity and purpose. What now was my purpose to be at 56? The world expects you life to shrink with age. I wasn’t ready for that. I knew that there new possibilities to be discovered. While I began to explore some things, I was also dealing with the burden that comes from areas and people in my life that needed healing. Years of prayer had not changed those circumstances. Then Covid…
Honestly, I didn’t do well with the isolation. I missed people, smiles, hugs, serving. My life was work upstairs in a bedroom that often started at 7am and finished at 10pm. My husband saw the toll it was taking. While everyone else was trying new things like cooking or reading or exercising, I was withdrawing. I wasn’t writing or reading which I love to do. I wasn’t exercising which I desperately needed to do. When I wasn’t working or doing household things, I sat in front of the TV to escape the loneliness and despair. It was numbing. I was just surviving the day. My faith was strong and yet God seemed very far away. I began to think about how I wished God would just call me home. Not in a suicidal way but in despair. I was weary and lonely. The spark was gone that comes from hope and passion. I felt like I was wandering in the desert, lost without a sense of direction.
While God seemed far away, He was always right there. But, He let me wander for a while. He let me spend time in despair. Then little by little, he moved me. It was like little by little after a dark night, the early shadows of light come before the sunrise. I actually began to share that sense of wanting to go to Heaven with others. I knew it was not coming from the hope of our faith but rather the hopelessness of despair. Putting voice to it took some of the weight from it. Then, I got to spend time with friends at our High school reunion. Being with people you love and the laughter is healing. I started walking again and listening to podcasts. I reached out to my network. Little by little the despair has lessened. More light was invading the darkness. Maybe even some of the colors of the sunset began to show.
Even still, the spark that I mentioned earlier was not there. I was still wandering the desert looking for clarity about my purpose, next season, joy… I somehow knew God had allowed this for my benefit. I knew there was something I was supposed to be learning during this season. But what? And then, in a simple set of texts, someone I grew up with joked about being almost 60. Two days later I woke up in what I guess was a panic attack with those words echoing in my mind. Time was precious and it was fleeting. I needed to move forward. I wanted to live a life of purpose and passion. I need to be doing things that have meaning.
Then, last weekend I ran across a podcast and a book by Paula Faris. It was about faith and vocational calling. It resonated with me. I read the book and listened to 20 of her podcasts over the 4 days. As I walked on Sunday, I was listening to one of her podcasts which was an interview with Jenna Bush Hager. In the middle of that discussion, Jenna was talking about Covid and how our lives slowed down. She said, “it was a good thing, because slowing down gave us a chance to understand what actually filled us up.”I stopped in the middle of the street and rewound it and listened again. Being stripped down allows the chance to see what is important to you uniquely. That’s it!
Suddenly, it all made sense to me. Peace came over me there on the streets of my neighborhood. I know exactly what fills me up. I have clarity on that. The void gave me a chance to understand the importance of how he created me. The gifts and passions that he instilled in me at creation are core to who I am and my purpose. The despair was a chance to ultimately validate what is uniquely me. Understanding our faith calling ultimately informs how we invest our time and energy. God never left me. He used the slowing down of life to strip away the noise that comes from busyness. Now, I can focus with clarity. Connected to God and consecrated to his purpose. Holy and sacred even in times of despair.
I encourage you to read that Dec 27th blog. Just as my journey is sacred so is yours. God never leaves us. He knows the journey, our struggles, and is in the business of redeeming what was ordained from the very beginning,
Psalm 139:16 “all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be” Even seasons of despair.
