A twelve days ago we were supposed to move into an adorable little two bedroom, two bath condo we were buying. And fifteen days ago, I was standing in line at Marshall’s when Travis called to tell me that the sale had fallen through.
I had planned to drive home and pack more boxes, then pick James up from his first day of preschool all smiles and energy.
Instead, I cried my way home and off and on through the rest of that day, and canceled the order for our new mattress that we scheduled to be delivered the day after closing.
I planned on anxiously waiting for the school day to be over so I could run and hold my preschooler and then sit enraptured hearing all about his day.
Instead, I washed my face, put on mascara and as much a smile as I could manage, and braved my way through his first preschool pick up, trying to be fully present and joyful in this moment with him, while at the same battling back the overwhelm now plaguing me.
I had plans, and they were suddenly, unexpectedly, gone. I had built dreams for our family in that place, all in my head, and those too, were now gone. I had expectations for what the next days would be like, and those were gone. I had thought I’d known where God was taking us, and that also, was now gone.
I felt unmoored and untethered. Adrift.
In the days that have followed, I’ve been all over the place. I’ve clung to God in some moments and run from Him others. I’ve been angry sometimes and peaceful others. I’ve run a million scenarios in my head and made plans a dozen different ways, grasping for what is right. Searching in darkness for a spark of Light to guide us.
And into the chaos of my heart and mind, a friend spoke these words. “We were shouting for joy just a few weeks ago…focus on those miracles. Those miracles didn’t come for no reason, and you guys didn’t get excited for no reason…continue to believe that the Lord is going to move.” Her words stopped me.
“We were shouting for joy just a few weeks ago…” “Those miracles didn’t come for no reason…”
I thought I had figured out how God was writing this story. I thought the miraculous way He was letting things fall into place, was all leading up to one certain ending. And when it all fell apart, I began to think maybe I had just heard wrong. Maybe we weren’t following God after all. Maybe God had spoken and I’d just missed it. Or maybe I’d been too stubborn to hear. Or maybe I just had no idea what was going on. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.
And then God used the words of this friend to draw near and whisper in my ear…
“This closing falling through does not negate the things I did to get you this far.”
I can praise God for the way He worked and also mourn the ending that I didn’t get.I can trust the God I love to be near even when I don’t understand how He is working.I can worship the God who guides us, even when it feels like we’ve been led to a dead end.
I don’t have an ending to this story yet. Well…not quite.
I can say that we haven’t curled up in a ball and given up, as much as we’ve been tempted to.
God has also provided for us to extend the lease with our current rental until the end of September with no extra fees, so we won’t be homeless at the end of next week.
And today we signed a contract with a new seller, for us to buy a different condo in the same community, although based on the events of the past few weeks, this too, feels far from an ending.
I can say that I’ve had days of intense anxiety, days of overwhelming desire to give up, and days of overwhelming peace from God, in the midst of it all.
I can say that there is a tiny seed of excitement over this new place beginning to form.
We are working hard and the emotional roller coaster, is far from over.
But the fact remains true, God did some wonderful things that I will continue to praise Him for, and the ending we didn’t get, the ending we still might not get, doesn’t negate that.
I sat on the park bench watching. Watching my husband chase our three year old up and down the ramps and slides. Watching our one year old climb up and down the slide. Watching older kids run past shouting and laughing. Watching the overcast sky fade from pale grey to dark gray.
The breeze was light, but just cool enough to feel that first hint of fall.
I looked around, feeling that warm-but-not-hot air and the ever-so-slightly-cool breeze winding around me. I had forgotten.
In the long, hot months of Florida summer, I had forgotten that another season would come. And I had forgotten how wonderful it is when it does.
I sat there silently marveling. Marveling that somehow I could forget that summer would be over and the heat would fade and we could go outside in the evening into the most perfect weather. Marveling that I could somehow forget that the heaviness of summer heat and humidity would be replaced by the lightness of a cool sunny day. Marveling that we are there already, at that point in the year where we can feel the season changing.
Heat to cool. Heavy to light. Summer to fall.
And I had forgotten.
But here we are. The first hints of the joy to come already showing up around me.
And I as I sat breathing in the cool, light air around me, I felt a whisper in my heart that I’ve come to learn as His voice.
”Don’t forget what’s coming.”
Don’t forget what’s coming.
This season of life has been so long. It’s felt like the summer, hot and smothering and heavy, and to be honest, I’ve found myself forgetting. Forgetting that the season will change. Forgetting that although God allows us to walk through the valley, He will also lead us beside still waters. He will also restore our souls.
"Don’t forget what’s coming,” He whispered.
And to be honest, I can barely remember what a season of freedom in certain areas of life feels like, because this season has been long. So very long.
But I know Whom I believe. Whether I remember what a change in season feels like or not, I will trust what He says.
This year, as our environmental season shifts around me, I have a whole new reason for hope. Hope that this season of the soul is shifting too.
I sat on the park bench watching. Watching my husband chase our three year old up and down the ramps and slides. Watching our one year old climb up and down the slide. Watching older kids run past shouting and laughing. Watching the overcast sky fade from pale grey to dark gray.
The breeze was light, but just cool enough to feel that first hint of fall.
I looked around, feeling that warm-but-not-hot air and the ever-so-slightly-cool breeze winding around me. I had forgotten.
In the long, hot months of Florida summer, I had forgotten that another season would come. And I had forgotten how wonderful it is when it does.
I sat there silently marveling. Marveling that somehow I could forget that summer would be over and the heat would fade and we could go outside in the evening into the most perfect weather. Marveling that I could somehow forget that the heaviness of summer heat and humidity would be replaced by the lightness of a cool sunny day. Marveling that we are there already, at that point in the year where we can feel the season changing.
Heat to cool. Heavy to light. Summer to fall.
And I had forgotten.
But here we are. The first hints of the joy to come already showing up around me.
And I as I sat breathing in the cool, light air around me, I felt a whisper in my heart that I’ve come to learn as His voice.
”Don’t forget what’s coming.”
Don’t forget what’s coming.
This season of life has been so long. It’s felt like the summer, hot and smothering and heavy, and to be honest, I’ve found myself forgetting. Forgetting that the season will change. Forgetting that although God allows us to walk through the valley, He will also lead us beside still waters. He will also restore our souls.
"Don’t forget what’s coming,” He whispered.
And to be honest, I can barely remember what a season of freedom in certain areas of life feels like, because this season has been long. So very long.
But I know Whom I believe. Whether I remember what a change in season feels like or not, I will trust what He says.
This year, as our environmental season shifts around me, I have a whole new reason for hope. Hope that this season of the soul is shifting too.
I sat across the wooden table with a bright, plastic tablecloth and weighed the words about to come out of my mouth carefully. I wanted to be sure I meant them with my whole heart…that I could say them truthfully. And for the first time in a very long while, perhaps ever, I felt that I could…
“I know its a lot of work, but I don’t have a job right now, I don’t have a lot of commitments. I get to choose what I am busy with. And this is something I want to choose.”
This is something I am going to choose…
….
The past year has been an incredibly challenging year for me in many ways. Lessons I had been learning, or attempting to learn, for years came to a head. It was do or die, and I felt like I was dying. I couldn’t keep up. I couldn’t slow down. I couldn’t change my mindset.
After years of God teaching me about breathing, rest, work, and peace, I felt like a failure. All the things I had learned, I couldn’t seem to do. Life was moving faster than I could keep up with, and I had less responsibilities than I’d ever had.
More than once, I broke down emotionally and mentally.
I felt utterly stuck and completely useless.
All the ways I found my worth, all the things I used to identify myself seemed to no longer be true of me. I wasn’t disciplined. I wasn’t healthy. I wasn’t organized. I wasn’t a hard worker. I wasn’t on top of things. I wasn’t a help to my husband. I wasn’t a joyful mother. I wasn’t a planner. I wasn’t a writer.
I was lost. I was stuck. I was done.
And it all came to a head, because, for the first time in my adult life, I wasn’t working anymore. I was staying home with our one-year-old and helping my husband transition into starting a business. I was still volunteering some at our church, but I had been doing that plus more before.
So why was I still stressed?
Why did I still end the day overwhelmed?
Over and over, my husband told me, “You have complete freedom to choose your day, to choose what you will and won’t do. Choose as best you can, so that you aren’t utterly exhausted at the end of each day.”
In my mind, I knew he was right, and I was so grateful for the freedom of this season. But at the same time, I couldn’t tune out the expectations I felt weighing on me.
And so I kept slowly drowning myself under the weight of should and can and want to and good, until even the most life-giving things became burdens that threatened to level me. It wasn’t until I saw myself failing my family over and over, because I could not seem to slow down, that I broke. I hit that point of feeling lost and stuck and useless. I thought I’d never change. I thought I was hopeless.
So I heartbrokenly laid down my self-made reputation, all the things I wanted to be and had thought I was.
I despaired of ever “rebuilding” myself into a good wife and mother and friend and follower of Jesus, and instead just begged God for help.
What I didn’t realize, is that this was exactly where I needed to be; that this was exactly where God wanted me. Once I laid down who I wanted to be and thought I should be, and just asked God to help me get through each day and to glorify Him somehow through it, He could start rebuilding me.
Once I laid down my identity and reputation and pride, He could start making me into the woman He wants me to be.
In the moment, it didn’t feel remotely right or spiritual or redemptive. It just felt like I was failing at life in every way.
I had no choice except to beg God for help, to beg Him to be enough for me today and tomorrow and the next day. To beg Him to be enough through me each moment of the day.
And He was enough.
He is enough each day. And somehow, He is rebuilding me.
Honestly, I look a lot the same as I looked before. But now, it doesn’t matter what I should do or be or look like. At least, it is mattering far less.
Suddenly, I am free to chose to say no to things that felt essential to who I was as a person just a few months ago. I can acknowledge something as good and choose to set it aside for the sake of something better. And when I get overwhelmed, I can choose to change my schedule, adjust my priorities, and reset my focus on the few things I need to have my focus on.
Because in this season, God has primarily called me to be a wife and mother who loves, supports, and takes care of her family well. I cannot do that when I run myself ragged with expectations. I cannot do that when I push my body, mind, and soul to their utter limits every week.
My family needs me well, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. So many of the things I think I need to do to be a good wife and mother and follower of Jesus are not necessary. They are not what God has called me to do in this season.
As I seek God, I can lay those things aside with freedom and joy. My choice to not do them does not make me a failure or less-than or useless. I am not defined by what I do and don’t do as a mother, a wife, a daughter of God.
I am defined by who I already am in Jesus.
My challenge in this season is to stay in this place, to live each day in the freedom I’ve been given. The things I do, the ways I spend my time, look very much the same as they did before. My life is almost imperceptibly different. But my heart is different…
I am more often living in the freedom I always had, and that makes all the difference.
I can now choose joy over stress, peace over busy, best over good. I can make these choices because I no longer believe that these choices make me good or right or worthy or valuable.
I am free to choose, because I am free from my own expectations. I am free.
