And the journey continues...

There are big transitions in our life stories that are common experiences. Transitions like stages of education, marriage, parenting, empty nests, aging, and retirement. Transitions that are anticipated or chosen and often shared experiences. They may seem like something straightforward that we can prepare for and yet it never really is. We carry with us our own stories and uniqueness like individual coping skills and personality traits that shape how we view the change. Also embedded are the conflicts, trauma, loss, and struggles that are unanticipated but meet us along the way. Our journey is full of sunshine and storms, straight paths and obstacles, impacts from choices and external circumstances. There are gifts to be found through it all even the hardships. Sometimes though, we are so focused on the struggle we fail to see the gifts.

For some reason, I have felt inadequate for as long as I can remember and that has impacted my experiences and choices along the way. There have been pivotal experiences that I carry with me, My family had a series losses when I was eight. We continued forward but I remember the grief that permeated that time. I had wonderful friends in college and never expected to lose someone precious to me the year after graduation. I got married at 22 naive and expecting the fairy tale which never materialized and was replaced with hurt and divorce. My youngest children experienced serious health crises before they even made it to 1st grade. And, my oldest after a series of his own health crises at 17 is left with addiction and now recovery in the aftermath. As a parent who didn't anticipate her own struggles, I certainly didn't anticipate the level of fear and sense of inadequacy that would come from trying to protect my own babies.

There are seasons. And even within seasons, there are chapters. Chapters that sneak up on you. Circumstances you never expected. Outcomes that leave you bruised or broken. Coping skills that may have served a purpose in your early years but fail to benefit you down the road. Feelings hidden in layers of facade until you cannot hide them anymore or they make you emotionally or physically sick. Chapters characterized by the weight of our burdens. The grief that comes from missed expectations or betrayal and loss. Choosing to respond rather than react when those hard chapters come takes work.

Turning 60, I anticipated transition. I have worked to prepare for it. Yet, there are the chapters within this season that are causing me to do the really hard work. To assess what burdens and emotions I continue to carry forward. To address the feelings of inadequacy and fear that have plagued my life. The last few weeks I have felt overwhelmed by the needs that surround me. I have struggled with that. A series of conversations with family, friends and work colleagues reminded me that we all have our struggles. I was at dinner by myself at a local bistro on Friday night. It was already busy at 5:30. I watched the faces across the room. I passed a woman walking outside clearly on an intense work call. She came in a few minutes later and sat with her friends. Only to walk out two more times on a phone call. The stress showed on her face. I saw an older woman (older than me!) sitting by herself eating. She looked sad and uncomfortable. I saw the woman who runs the bar and remembered a conversation several months ago. She was a single mom and talked about the challenges of making sure her baby sitters were in place at night when she worked. I wondered how her week had been. My waitress who was outgoing responded to my comment about how busy it was so early. Her comment was how happy she was to see the customers as the night before it had been surprisingly very slow. It was hard when you could not count on steady tips. The struggles of life.

I have wrestled with how to deal with the daily struggles and the hard chapters. I was reminded of the first lesson from a book I was reading- The Top Five Regrets of the Dying. While the title may sound morbid, the book was quite uplifting and a reminder of the choices we always have even at the darkest of times. One comment was the ability to surrender control of outcomes. Surrender could have the connotation of giving up. But surrendering control of that which we do have control of nor ever will is courageous. It can be liberating and allow you to focus on intentions that matter. Free up that space that the struggle consumes to allow you to not only receive love and support from others but to give it. Control is often a protection mechanism but instead it impacts our relationships and prevents us from really living in the present. So, sometimes simply accepting our circumstances allows us to live in them. Freedom to receive the gifts still available.

It reminded me of the story of Jacob wrestling with God through the night. He had lived a life of struggles.  One restless night in the desert, he was met with a stranger (God). He wrestled throughout the night demanding a blessing. He could not overcome the stranger though. Finally, God touched his hip and he could not longer wrestle. In that moment when he was left with nothing but surrender, he was ready to be blessed. I think back to other times of struggle. It was in the moments after I surrendered control when I could receive the blessings within the struggle. God told us to be still, stop struggling, and know that he is God. I can say now that while I would not have chosen the hard chapters, I have benefited from those struggles. My faith has grown. My empathy is deep. I survived hard times not on my strength alone but actually when I came to the end it- surrender.

The other gift to be grasped that is foundational to managing the hard times is to remember your value as a child of God. You were created with purpose and capacity to be love. You are worthy of love. It is not contingent on performance. Your path is about learning who you are and your relationship to the creator. Certainly we make wrong choices but we are more than our worst choice. Regret and guilt should be laid down. Others betray or hurt us; but, their behavior is not an indictment of our value. Bitterness and shame can be left behind. The great hope of the gospel is that we were loved enough that God sent his own son to take the burden of all our struggles, our choices and brokenness that comes from others. Mercy, forgiveness, grace and our value to God was on full display at the cross. It is the very place we can go to surrender the pain.

Our emotions are human. We have natural reactions but we can choose to respond differently to our struggles. We can surrender our outcomes in humility. We can know that there are gifts to be found in the hard times. Even in the loneliest of times, we can trust God has not left us. For all our pain or inadequacies, we are loved. Our burdens can be left at the foot of the cross. His power is sufficient for any circumstances we find ourselves experiencing. That is the freedom that allows us to stop struggling and accept the blessings intended. Our purpose becomes a heavenly purpose as our story unfolds and allows us to connect to others who are struggling. Strength is shared from weakness.

2 Corinthians 12:9-10 "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties.  For when I am weak, then I am strong."

If you have a burden from which you continue to bear the weight , leave it at the foot of the cross. If you can't find a way, pray that another person will walk you there and remind you that there is freedom waiting. In weakness, there is strength to be found. And the journey continues...

The path to 60 is now the path of 60!

 Well, it has now come and gone…that dreaded birthday. The one I have been ruminating about and preparing for. Here I am 3 days into being 60. The reality is nothing really changed- sun comes up and goes down. I am still stiff in the morning but that passes quickly. I am still drinking coffee in the early hours, answering emails all day, and sweeping the days dog hair in the evenings. It is in many ways just a number as so many of my birthday notes reminded me. 

And yet for me, it is more than that. I am introspective by nature. I often write about our stories in terms of seasons. I took a walk the morning of my birthday and was reminded of how things ebb and flow. I didn’t listen to a podcast as I usually do. I wanted to be quiet and present, listening to the sounds and seeing the beauty. My neighbors have beautiful landscaped yards. As I was walking, I noticed that one house that has a whole bed in the spring filled with tulips was now cleaned up with new pine straw. The time for those tulips was gone. A few houses still had pansies which lasted a little longer this year because it hasn’t been that hot yet. But they are also on their way out. But there was new life coming. I could smell the blooming ligustrum and some honeysuckle. The day lilies were blooming every where and new begonias and impatiens had been planted. I even saw my favorite thing- a baby bunny. It was a new season and a perfect picture to me that day, that a new season was beginning. 

I heard a speaker a couple of weeks ago talking about how you encourage people in transition and change. Often we focus on the challenge or the loss or even the behavioral requirement that comes with change. With aging, this is a natural route especially for women experiencing empty nests, post menopausal weight, and increasing laugh lines. Life is changing with often a sense of loss. His rebuttal to that was that we should really start with the possibilities to come. It made me think about the myriad of verses in the Bible that touch on the topic of possibilities- like nothing is impossible or everything is possible with God. For me, (and this may be a distinction without a difference) the first version using the word impossible feels more confined to my imagination or desires. Somehow, everything is possible seems more open to the breadth of  God- things beyond my simple imagination. A sacred plan. Sacred possibilities…

I have been doing work with a personal coach in anticipation of this birthday and the days after. She reminded me that one of the gifts of our stories at this age is wisdom. I had read a book, From Strength to Strength earlier this year by a social scientist named Arthur Brooks. It touched on intelligence. In our younger days we have the ability to cultivate more facts, think flexibly and solve unique problems. It’s called fluid intelligence. But as we age and our brain evolves, our intellect develops into crystallized intelligence- simply put wisdom. From his further writings, he provides that most radical discoveries and works of art happened at early ages- 20s to early 30s. Many struggled then to find that next great discovery for the rest of their lives. But, others saw the place they could teach, encourage and provide wise counsel that brought even greater gifts and certainly renewed purpose. 

So, here I am with a lot of life experience including accomplishments, great blessings, and significant disappointments. With all of that comes wisdom. All of us have that. At some point, we have to open up to the possibilities of how God may use that in a world desperate for healing. So, as I anticipated this birthday, I began to put some words down that are my hope for the decade of the 60s. I thought I would share it as my own accountability process and maybe some twinkle of hope for someone else searching for purpose later in life.

Fundamental to my work is the knowledge that we all want to feel seen, heard, supported and valued. Secondly, I am compelled by an inner knowing, the Spirit, that my purpose is not diminishing at this stage but calling me forth to a new season of God’s possibilities.

Based on that, here are my areas of hope and focus…

Claim and pursue a deep understanding of my value and focus on the gifts and opportunities as God’s child and creation 

Build memories with my family honoring the natural evolution of those relationships

Experience laughter and love with the friendships of a lifetime 

Create beauty and peace through being present, in my surroundings, with my health and through my gifts

 And lastly, Serve my community leveraging my gifts, experiences, and passions to encourage others     bringing hope and light to those who need it.

Here in this decade of the 60s, my personal mission is to pursue my purpose and engage with those who God places in my path with love, grace, and gratitude in the hope of reflecting my faith and being a voice of encouragement so others feel seen, heard, supported and valued. I am trusting God and the words of his son… Matthew 19:26 Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible but with God all things are possible.”

For any others who may be struggling with a sense of purpose. Embrace the possibilities. Trust that your experience has brought wisdom. There has been  preparation for your next season. 

God is not done with us yet. We are still on a sacred journey…

Here’s to the sixties with new anticipation!🥂

   

 

 

                

 

  

Path to 60: Following God into the unknown

 There are three messages that I often embed in my writing…

• We are created for a unique purpose…Our journeys are the process through which our purpose on this earth is fulfilled 
• Gods walks that journey in and through us. He exists within, behind, before and to the side
• Our journeys are sacred connected to God and set aside for his purposes 

The other thing embedded in all of these is how God uses our circumstances, our friends, even our bodies and that quiet voice within to strengthen us and urge us forward and teach us about ourselves and our creator. Yesterday, it was the quiet voice that began to speak to me in an unexpected way teaching me an unexpected truth. A truth about my transforming relationship with God. It happened as some simple words from Sunday’s sermon caught hold and the voice of God illuminated an insight about my relationship with God throughout my life.

As a child, I was in church all the time. I went to elementary school there, Wednesday night church and often twice on Sundays. I learned a lot about God. I was taught the stories of the Bible. Seeds were planted and I believed. I always have. At least as a child and through my young adult years, I understood at a very basic level the breadth of God. The holiness of who he is and the gift found in the cross. He felt big, merciful  and honestly distant and separate. What I didn’t grasp was that he wanted a personal relationship with me or even the breadth of his love for me, the individual. And yet, I knew my faith was sacred. I knew the character of God from behind at his roots with humankind. I learned about him from the history we have documented through the stories of the Bible. Looking backwards was the genesis of my faith. Those years were sacred. 

As an adult, I followed the plan. I finished college, got married, started working, and began a family. I followed the natural steps at least as I believed was the normal expectation. And then life threw some warning signs and on same days and even seasons real roadblocks came hard. I had time on the mountaintop, things to celebrate, blessings and gifts. But I also faced much to my surprise deep disappointments and pain from broken relationships, a sense of inadequacy to care for my children and fear for our well-being as our family fractured. So, those seeds planted in my early years began to sprout. I had to be brought to the end of my abilities, my strength, my sense of worth before I had no place but to turn to God. It was at those times, I learned reliance. I sought comfort. I began to understand that not only was he present in the heights, the very places I learned gratitude and experienced feelings of happiness and

of deep joy. But he was also in the depths of despair. There, I experienced his unconditional love. I was now engaged in a personal relationship with God and could see his grace shed on me. I looked to my side and grabbed hold of the relationship. He became close and real in the seasons of life- the complicated and simple, the dark and the light, and the tears and laughter. It was with him, I learned to navigate all of those.

Here I am approaching 60. It’s not so much the number but a time of shifts- shifting relationships and priorities. Everywhere I look, it seems there is change on the horizon. The change isn’t fully clear. And so, I am looking within. Listening to the Spirit as I feel the urge to move forward. Unmet dreams have resurfaced. A desire to not react to life but proactively pursue my purpose. I am paying attention to my body’s response. I am learning to be still and allow the Spirit to speak to me. I’ve come to understand that I have lived a lifetime in fight or flight. Reacting to the world’s plan, others’ choices, and a life of responsibilities. And, my body is saying enough. And yet the future seems unclear, unknown in many ways.

So, yesterday some simple words about people following Jesus into Palm Sunday stirred me. They knew he was special. He was a healer. Some even thought he was the Messiah. While he came in on a donkey, it wasn’t the triumphal entry of a king taking his rightful place would make, they followed. They had no idea the sacrifice and the gift of forgiveness that was to come. The glory to be revealed was not understood. And yet, they followed Jesus into the unknown. The eyes of Jesus were also on God’s plan. He understood the sacrifice and yet he followed. There is such hope in that. The act of following rooted in trust that something quite special and life changing was on the horizon. I thought to myself here I am at a season where I am being called forward. Why would I not simply follow? It is still easier said than done. The unknown feels risky. But everything that God has taught me says he is worthy to be trusted. 

Yes, I can look back and understand his character. I could look to the side and see his presence. And I can look within and hear his voice calling me to follow. He is leading me into my future, the continued steps in the evolution of my purpose. So, if I believe what I say I believe- that we are created uniquely for a purpose set aside by God and that he has walked the path with me always sustaining and preparing me for that very purpose, what is keeping me from following him into the unknown? I am not sure I can answer but to say that I believe God is now teaching me to follow his lead. In the past, he has allowed some doors to be closed, blessed my choices in many ways and sustained me as I worked to sustain others. He stayed by my side. Just maybe, now he is saying just keep your eyes on me and follow. I have new things for which you have been set aside to do. That is real trust and faith lived out.

There is beauty to be found in the unknown. The sacred journey continues…

.

The Path to 60: What internal soundtracks are playing?

It’s hard to believe it’s been two months since the last post and now two months closer to this next big birthday. A birthday symbolic of entering a new season, certainly a new decade. The truth is I entered this new season well before this birthday will come. I have lived in anticipation or perhaps dread for awhile. You see, the changes have been underway for some time. Children building independent lives. Loved ones experiencing health challenges. My own loss of confidence in my physical appearance or sense of physical strength. Even my sense of purpose has felt diminished and unclear. 

The narrative playing in my head was driven out of a sense of loss and a lack of clarity. I began to wrestle with fear. Those messages began to replay over and over. I heard author, Jon Acuff, speak recently about “broken soundtracks”. He was actually talking about teenagers and negative self-talk. His advice to confront these negative messages was to ask the following questions:

Is it true? Is it kind? Is it helpful?

I have read similar approaches to evaluating how we talk to one another. I have even challenged myself before on the the truth of my own narrative. Maybe even asked myself if certain self-talk was helpful or rather was it creating fear or distraction. But I don’t think I have been asking myself if I am treating myself kindly through my own self narrative. Maybe it’s being a mother or father, a wife or husband or even a boss. We have spent so much time encouraging others through change, we haven’t focused on the same for ourselves. 

So, here I am in the midst of change, approaching a new season- shifting roles, physical aging, redefining my purpose. And in order to combat my own subtle messaging focused on loss or fear, I have to remind myself of what I truly believe. I believe that life is sacred. Our journeys are sacred also. I believe we are creations of God with a purpose here in this world. That alone is the basis of our worth. Lastly, I believe we are both loved and loveable. 

And yet, sometimes my inner dialogue doesn’t reinforce those beliefs. Fear sneaks in and those messages undermine my fundamental beliefs. That self-imposed deception casts a shadow that can hide the hope that exists in the opportunity a new season brings. We don’t focus on the gift of time to explore who we are as God’s creation and the depth of God’s love found in pursuit of our purpose here on earth. We may not recognize the impact that can be created through our lives found in the wisdom gained and the knowledge of God’s character experienced through our journey. It is why each season is sacred. It is why we need to replace those “broken soundtracks”. 

I have been working with a personal coach on a project that I would like to take on. At some point early in that conversation, I questioned whether I had anything to contribute of value to others. She said simply, “you have your wisdom”. A lifetime of experiences creates insight and empathy. Wisdom to be shared. Since that time, what my narrative has switched to is what I have to give which is my energy, my time, and my wisdom found through experiences. So, when negative thoughts rise to the surface and especially to those of us approaching a new season, a big birthday, ask yourself is it true? Does it reflect what you believe? Are you so caught in the loss of one role, that you cannot see the opportunities that can be found in a new or evolving role. Is it helpful? Does it hold you back or propel you forward towards your purpose in this season. Finally, is it kind? Do you treat yourself with grace and love? Do you reinforce your worth through the quiet messages you tell yourself? 

Yes, our lives are changing. We will experience some loss and maybe even grief. And yet, I believe with all my heart that God is calling us forward. He is calling us towards our purpose which is a journey not a destination. Our purpose doesn’t slam shut at 60. Our depth becomes our compelling beauty. The internal beauty can outshine the external changes.  And as long as we still have breath, we are still on that journey. We have precious time, energy and wisdom to contribute. There will be opportunities to be blessed and to bless. Through thoughtful evaluation, prayers, or meditation, we can recognize those broken soundtracks and replace them with messages of love, worth, faith and hope. We can grow forward. We evolve our purpose and still have valuable impact in the lives around us. That is not contingent on any one role other than perhaps being a child of God. And, we can experience God more fully and live our lives reflecting that back to those who surround us. 

We are on a sacred journey… So, let our soundtracks reflect that!

Path to 60- wow!!

8 years ago I started this blog to reflect on my journey as a mom with a child struggling from addiction. Over the course of a year, I wrote weekly and ran over a 1000 miles. I shared my thoughts about my steps forward. Well sometimes, the steps were side ways, backwards or holding in place as I attempted to accept the both-and of life. Being authentic about the struggle but open to the gifts that also come in the struggle. It  was a year of great growth and faith and healing. It was sacred. 

Our stories are scared. They teach us, evolve us and connect us! 

Life continues. My children grew up. Finally, a little patch of grey hair began to show. Clerks started ask me (quite rudely!) if I qualified for the senior discount. I began to hear responses at work that suggested I was not the future. My career runway had dimmed. For that matter, my hearing has dimmed too! I can sing all the lyrics to “The Night Chicago Died” from 1974 but somehow I can’t remember what I served for dinner 2 days ago. I still do 5 mile walks but I am mighty stiff when I wake up in the morning. The worst is I see a different person in the mirror than I see a photograph. Time has moved on. A new season is underway.

During Covid this feeling of being in transition was deep and unnerving. My roles were changing. My nest was empty. For awhile my future looked like something that was more about getting smaller. It was setting dreams aside. There were feelings of regret. But mostly fear and lack of purpose and value. I was no longer that sweet natured, cute Chi Omega with good grades who had the world ahead of her. I was scared and sad. My journey lost direction. 

Over the past few months, I have been searching for ways to see the light of opportunity that a new season brings. I really believe that God still has a purpose and all the experiences and relationships to this point have made me who I am today in preparation for who he intends me to be tomorrow. In my first post on this blog, I wrote the following…”Learning each day is a new day and a new chance to address obstacles differently and to persevere through mental, spiritual and physical challenges. A new chance to reframe my thinking adding to that a new chance to reframe my life.” That is exactly what I am trying to do. 

Here I am months before I turn 60. I actually can’t fathom that it could be true but my birth certificate says so! Two of my closest friends celebrated their 60th this fall. The High School class of ‘81 has officially started the 60th birthday gauntlet. That just puts a fine point to this sense of transition. Two college friends passed away this summer. Time is precious. I really do want to push through this transition and pursue the decade of 60s as a time full of purpose, growth and laughter. I want to make a difference in this life. I want to spend time with people I love. I want to laugh and dance and travel and write. I want to hold with reverence the journey that God has led me on and gratitude for the people he placed in my life. I want to be an encourager and share whatever wisdom I have gained along the way. And I want to lay down the burdens of fear that I have carried along the way and replace that with peace and faith. I want to do it all with grace, authenticity and humor. Time is precious and I want to live life fully and present.

Have you felt that in some way too? Would you join me as I process this path to 60? I am going to write from time to time. I will share my journey. I have already started a list of words to explore- acceptance, boundaries, dreams, possibilities. It’s a new chapter underway. The story is still sacred. So together, let’s learn, evolve and connect in the pursuit of God’s ultimate purpose for each of us. Time is precious. People are precious.  Our stories are precious. A sacred journey…

Two Become One

 “Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife and they shall become one.” Genesis 2:24

On Saturday, almost a year exactly to the date they got engaged, my precious son, Tyler, vowed to become one with the love of his life, Caroline. It was a joyous and magical weekend. We have loved Caroline since the very beginning. She is an answer to my prayers for My son. They were a picture of joy and happiness. They were both surrounded in love and a visual expression of love. 

But now, vows have been said, rings exchanged, dancing has finished, friends and family have gone home and my children have set out on their new journey as husband and wife. Two families have a new connection and two precious people have become one in the eyes of God. And in a new way, my role as a mother changes. My heart opens up to a new daughter but my support role as a mom does begin to look different. They become the circle of love to each other. I now sit close but on the outside ready to support, encourage and reinforce their spirit bond. I didn’t think much about that as we prepared.

Now, I expected the need to rest after the wedding festivities. I even kept my beach rental for another week for that very reason. We had been working on this weekend on and off for a year. It never occurred to me that I might feel so emotional days afterwards. This was my first child to marry. But, I really didn’t expect to be flooded by emotion two and three days later. Everyone had left to go home. So, I got up early to the walk the beach that I love.  Here I was by myself, left with my own thoughts.

As I watched the waves roll in and out, I suddenly was overcome with emotion. Tears really caught me off guard. I felt both gratitude and yet this sense of letting go. I spent the better part of the year planning with them. It was perfect and now it’s over. Maybe it’s like the feeling after all the presents are open on Christmas Day. The let down that comes after the build-up. Or maybe and more likely, it’s just the change. The change in relationships, the change in focus, the change in life. 

Yes, life is full of changes. It is a journey that God lives in and through us. I am so happy that Tyler and Caroline found each other. And even happier that they had found their faith long before. They enter this journey with a strong foundation. That gives me peace and joy. It is like the picture of the ocean. Life’s waves come in and out and swirl at our feet. Sometimes it’s gentle and relaxing and sometimes with a force that can make us a bit unsteady. But at the horizon, you see calm. That is what faith brings. They have that horizon- their foundation.

So, as life’s waves roll out, more come in. What does God have in store not only for them but for this mother? Those are my thoughts starting first with gratitude about what was and is; and, then with anticipation of what will be. 

Sitting by myself at the water’s edge, I wipe my tears.  I slow my breathing, close me eyes, listen to the sounds of the ocean and pray. Not so much with words but more of an attitude of oneness. Worship, really. You see as the emotion subsided, it was replaced with calm.

 I was reminded that while marriage is a symbol of oneness, faith starts with first becoming individually one with the Spirit of God. That’s my spiritual horizon. My center of calm and peace. This was already a season of transition for me. This wedding was another reminder that our stories continue. They ebb and they flow. There is beauty to be found in memories of the past and certainly in anticipation of the future. But in the present, as a child of God, we are never alone. God’s gifts may be understood through the past; but, they are experienced in the present. 

 In faith, two become one. When waves roll in and out, just look to the horizon. There you will find peace, love and gratitude for all that life brings. You are reminded that God moves in and through you. Your story is revealed and is sacred. 

The waves become the rhythm that reminds us of that very thing. We are a part of a much bigger story. It is told in both the waves and the horizon. They are a part of the same creation. God’s creation. Two become one…

For that I am grateful. 

Sacred Journey: Season of Despair

 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.