Last night I had just laid my kids down to bed and I headed out under the warm sunshine on my deck to finish up some work. I was stopped in my tracks as I heard the birds chirping, the new and full growth on the trees and the abundance of kids toys scattered around our 11×11 deck.
You see.. just a few weeks ago, those leaves weren’t there. The backyard was less to be desired with big buildings and lights in my view. Sometimes seasons in our life can be this way too. Seemingly bare, not what we would hope for or maybe even expose some of our flaws.
For me, the trees represented the steady and consistent faithfulness (and fullness) that God remains the same. That He makes all things new. Some seasons will bring growth and new life and others will instead require that the foliage fall away.
The sounds of the birds and the way the sun shined over the pond represented the awe and wonder of His creation to me. And those toys scattered… those represented the wild but fruitful season I am in with my sweet kiddos. They are only little for a season.
There will come a day when those toys will no longer be present. But for now, may I always remember to slow myself down and see the season in front of me.
May I not rush my thoughts and plans but instead be present in the way in which God is working now.
Let me ask you… what was the first thing that came to your mind when you awoke this morning? Was it calm, collected and content, with a pause of gratitude as you are in a season where things are going smooth? What about those birds chirping on a spring morning. You either love it or hate it. Or did you instead rather feel the rush of all the things the day holds ahead for you – asking yourself how you will get it all done. You know it will be moments before the pitter patter of feet come running down the hall or a call comes through that you have to answer. What about that work meeting you have coming up at 12 noon that you have yet to prepare for. Or the phone call you are dreading because it is a conversation you just don’t want to have. The drive-up grocery pickup order, yes, that will be ready at 9am so be sure you remember to run and grab in the midst of a million other commitments that will make up your overscheduled day.
Maybe you find yourself, hit hard with the waking moment, of pure dread, or discouragement, or heartache of the reality your circumstances. You can’t bear to turn on the news or check your phone to only hear of another tragedy causing communities and families to mourn. Or did your friend just share a pregnancy announcement, and yet you are still in a long season of waiting or maybe even lost your own sweet one by miscarriage? Maybe its reaching to grab your “reader” to silence the alarm sounding of dangerous numbers which is only a daunting reminder of the chronic illness you’ve been diagnosed with. Or maybe, you have been betrayed by someone you love most, and you’re just wondering how you are going to get through the day as you question being enough. Or you received one more door closed on an opportunity you were courageous enough to put yourself out there for.
The thing is friends, and that I want to remind you of this morning, (crazy morning hair and all), is that, those very things that feel unbearable, exhausting or you feel isolated in were never meant to be navigated alone. God calls us to be in relationship first with him and then with others. We also know that His mercies are new every morning.
Don’t give up. Keep showing up. AND don’t go at it alone. It is easy to fall into the trap of believing we need to keep our struggle hidden to save “face”. BUT instead, what power or possibility could come from bringing your pain or trial to the light. First to God, and then to a friend.
You don’t need to scream it on the mountain tops, but I encourage you to invite someone into the valley with you to walk with you to the other side. To remind you, that there is hope for a better tomorrow. That YOU, yes YOU were created unique and intentionally. That you are seen, loved and already belong. Today might be hard. Really really hard. But keep going. Allow yourself to feel. To acknowledge. To grieve. BUT then, also cast your cares to the one who created you and reach out to that one person you need in the valley with you.
His mercies are new every morning. He is big enough for all you bring. He is already with you and is just desiring that you turn to see him right beside you.
Together, lets deconstruct the patterns of our mind and this world. Putting things into perspective and order. What patterns are even true or worthy of space in our hearts. Are they healthy. Lifegiving. Soul caring. Or restorative? Or do we need to cut them out, piece by piece. Lie by lie.
The fruit of the Spirit, found in Galatians 5:22-23, is made up of the following nine qualities or gifts: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.
Let us focus our hearts on these things.
The truth is that living a life of intentionality and focus is really hard. It is a daily practice. Our focus can blur slowly at times and others circumstances can hit violently and we don’t even see them coming.
Have you ever compared yourself to the hand selected and filtered life of others in your social media feeds or those in or out of your circle? Or how is it going giving yourself grace when you don’t always have together.
Then add those deep wounds and valleys along your journey you don’t want others to know about.
Those are the parts of our stories are far easier to keep protected safe inside of us out of fear of vulnerability or avoiding shame.
As I learned (yes, learned) to deconstruct the pattern of only sharing my (what I thought) was acceptable or lovely, I began to understand that those valleys are what grew me in awareness and resilience, stretched me to pursue health and healing, brought humility, reminding me that I don’t have it all together (I am not expected too). I learned I can be and am courageous and the most significant, I grew my faith.
We have been created uniquely with gifts and passion to be in relationship. To know, and to be known. By God and others. We long for this kind of belonging.
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