I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I haven’t been writing much recently. My blog has been strangely silent, and I don’t like it this way.
My life feels incomplete without writing. I miss the time I normally spend processing through events in my life — extracting lessons I may not have seen before. I miss sharing my story with you, and hearing yours in return.
I have been trying to write, I swear! I have half-finished posts littering my desktop. I’ve been trying to crank out something to tell you where I am, and what I’m doing, and how I’m feeling.
But as I write, the posts get longer and longer, too many thoughts and feelings to fit into 700 words. And so there they sit, abandoned and incomplete on my desktop, waiting for the day when I’ll be able to collect my thoughts and feelings enough to write again.
But the truth is, I haven’t neglected my writing, necessarily. I’m just living the stories that I’ll be able to tell later, and these days, the living has had to take precedence.
And as much as I feel sad about my poor, neglected writing. I also know how good this is. We wouldn’t have anything to write about if we hadn’t lived first.
A mentor of mine said it this way once, “You can’t lead someone anywhere you haven’t gone.”
And so that’s what I’m doing these days. I’m venturing in and through tunnels. I’m learning things about myself and about God that I’ve never had to learn before. I’m navigating more change than I ever thought could happen all at once — looking for a home in a new city, finding new jobs, planning a wedding, preparing to move. I’m doing all of those things while trying to stay present, and trying to trust the Lord — knowing that I don’t want to waste one day of my one, precious life, not matter how wild it feels today.
And I’m trying to pay attention, because this is one of those seasons in my life that is packed to the brim with stories and lessons. I’m trying to take notes.
Maybe today you find yourself in a place like this. Maybe today you feel like life is bowling you over, knocking you off your feet and tumbling you around like a wave. Maybe your laundry needs to be done, your to-do list is explosive, and your phone keeps dying mid-day from abusive over-use.
Maybe you find yourself frustrated as you’re neglecting one important thing for another. And maybe, today, that’s just how it has to be.
I’m right there with you.
And I wont pretend to have learned all the things there are to learn in a wild season like this one. I’m just scratching the surface.
But from my place in the midst of the waves, overwhelmed and scared, sometimes, I can tell you two things:
- Prayer helps
I haven’t been doing it much — in fact, I could stand to pray a lot, A LOT, more in this season. But the times I have prayed, God has answered, every single time. We’re relying on him a lot in this season, and he’s coming through with flying colors. So through the pile of things in your life that just seem to keep coming, send up a prayer. It doesn’t even have to be a big one. And watch as God answers.
- Change is good
I hate change, I’m coming to realize. Change scares me more than almost anything else. It leaves me feeling small — wanting to give up on this big life altogether. It makes me want to retreat on home, putting on some footie pajamas and swearing never to leave again.
But as I stick it out, one day at a time, I can feel Change changing me. It is reworking things in me I thought to be immovable. It’s shoving me into shoes that are far too big for my feet. Change trusts me more than I trust myself, urging, you can do it, you can do it, you can do it, at every turn.
And I know that if I stick it out, if I resist the urge to give up and run home, Change will propel me into a new version of who God wants me to be. And so I’m sticking it out. I hope you will too.
Life these days feels messy and totally beyond my control. But I’ve been around long enough to know that there’s beauty in it, to know that when I look back, this will be one of my life’s most transformational seasons. So I’m making a preemptive, faith-filled decision to be thankful —right in the middle of the waves.