Do you ever have that inclination toward more when what you really need is less? You try to fill every nook and cranny of your life when what you really need is a blank space and place to let your mind wander and determine what is most important? I know I do. It’s led me to a transition from working mom to stay at home mom.
Here I am, closing out a long chapter of my life, one involving a fair amount of hustle to now choosing a slower pace, one that’s chaotic in its own right, mostly because children are involved, but slower none the less. I am sorting through opportunities to determine where and what I’m capable of in this time and season. Different seasons demand different parts of our perspective and strength. This one, complete with middle of the night feedings and preschool night terrors, stealing time to write and time to read The Very Hungry Caterpillar for the billionth time, trauma therapy for a sweet boy who struggles with abandonment issues, and a household that demands cleaning… at some point. I have loved the work, the labor, the ministry that I’ve served in for the past seven years, and walking away from it full time isn’t what I planned or expected to do but here I am, staring down the face of tomorrow. Tomorrow invites more, more, more but I’m sensing its a time of less. In times of less we remember who we are, the passions that make our hearts beat fast, the brokenness in ourselves, the hopes and dreams for our lives and families, and the injustices that we can do something about. We find what matters, find our true north, and carry on stronger and more intentional than before.
I’m remembering the verse in Proverbs where the wife of noble character, “laughed without fear of the future.” I’m not quite to laughing but I’m almost there. I know this transition is suppose to happen but I can’t believe it’s here, it’s now, it’s happening. A few months ago when I was sensing a change in our lives, and more specifically in my role at work, i had no idea what God’s plan was for us but we knew He would take us from strength to strength. With that hope beating loudly in my heart I bought a sign that sits on my mantle that reads, “the best is yet to come.” I see it everyday staring at me, reminding me that “He who promised is FAITHFUL.” Without a doubt I truly believe the best is yet to come. I feel like God is forcefully pruning my life in an effort to have his way no matter what. His way is good, right, and adventurous. I’ll take it over my plans. I will and I am.
We can do hard things. We can navigate family transitions with grace and peace.