Tag: growth

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Seasons. Choices. Trust.

It doesn’t look like I thought it would. Does yours?

Life.

It has a strange way of completely turning and taking you down paths you would never choose for yourself. Like the death of a child–or a spouse, or someone else you never thought you’d have to learn how to live without; the diagnosis from your doctor you’ve always heard of but wasn’t ever supposed to hear yourself; the papers from the lawyer that knock the wind out of you.

“They” say life is about choices. And I suppose it is. It isn’t like I really disagree, but sometimes I wonder, “Who the heck is “they” and what do they really know?” Because even if life is about choices, sometimes those choices are limited by circumstances.

But I guess that’s the point. When limited by circumstances, we still have choices. Even if it’s simply to choose to not give up.

Simply?

Seems to me, that is a pretty huge choice.

In the seasons that never seem to end, where you are taking hit after hit after hit until you don’t think you could possibly ever take one more without completely being crushed and bleeding on the floor, to “simply” choose to not give up is HUGE! To remember, even if you can’t quite believe it in that moment, that this season won’t last forever—every season eventually has an end, and to trust that another day will come, and with it will come sunshine, is a powerful choice to make.

To look around you at all that is wrong, and painful, and overwhelming; to acknowledge and feel it, yet see beyond—even when you can’t really see beyond yet, is to choose trust.

Trust.

What exactly is trust?

According to dictionary.com it is “confident expectation of something, hope”.

So, can we really choose to trust? Is trust really a choice?

I think it is. But I’m also learning something important about that choice. It matters what or who you choose to trust in.

Personally, I and my family have been in a real season of testing. The last few months have been brutal and there have been more than one occasion where I have felt I have reached the end of my rope and can’t take one more thing. And then one more thing hits.

I’ve cried. I’ve screamed. I’ve pleaded with God. And nothing has changed—or so it appeared. Recently, however, I have realized, my circumstances may not have changed—but I have. Inwardly I have changed. I’ve let go of old beliefs that were never meant to define me. I’ve released anger, judgement, fear and deeper levels of grief. I’m emerging from this season a different person than I went in, and as hard and intense as the season has been, and as much as I would have preferred not to have gone through it, I like who I am becoming. Or is it really becoming? Perhaps it’s discovering underneath all that I let go, the real me I was intended to be when God first created me.

So I’ve come to the conclusion; trust is a choice. But it is vitally important Who that trust is placed in, because that will make all the difference in the world as to who we become (or unbecome) in these seasons. And only when our trust is placed in Someone bigger than our circumstances will we make it through battle weary but stronger than when we went in.

Choice is power. What, or Who are you choosing to trust in?

In case you are needing a bit of encouragement today here is my current favourite song. If you are battle weary too, pause, close your eyes, breathe and listen. I pray you will find some sort of relief and release as you do.

Love and Hugs

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When Words Can’t Do Justice

We all have seasons in life that seem to flow a whole lot smoother than others. The current season I find myself in is both exciting and terrifying at the same time. That’s the thing about seasons–they aren’t “all or nothing”. They are a definite mixture of all sorts of things. And in the midst, we have a choice. Resist? Or embrace to learn and grow?

There are so many things about this season I would love to resist, but in resisting, I short-change myself and those around me that I directly impact. So I surrender. To the awkwardness. To the pain. To the unearthing of things hidden within of which I wasn’t aware.

I don’t surrender in a way that has this season and these things controlling, defining or labeling me. No. I surrender in a way that says “OK, here it is. Let’s face this and work through it and allow God to use it for His glory.”

Does putting that spin on it make it easier? Not at all, but it does remind me in the middle of the hard that there is more than this. This life. This season. These hard things. And don’t we all need that reminder? That it won’t always be this way? That something beautiful will come out of our struggles?

I’m not much of a gardener–not for lack of my dad trying. He even told me one day how therapeutic gardening is. To which I laughed and replied “Dad, it’s just one more thing on my to-do list.” Maybe someday I’ll change my perspective. Maybe someday I too will think it’s therapeutic and actually enjoy it. That day, however, hasn’t arrived yet. In the meantime, even if I’m not a gardener, I do know this: before the seeds can be planted, the soil must be prepared. Worked up.

This not only applies to gardens, it also apples to our hearts and souls. Before seeds can be planted, our soul must be prepared. Worked up. What doesn’t belong (weeds) removed, soil softened and fertilized so that when the seeds are planted they can grow with less hindrances.

What does this have to do with “when words can’t do justice”?

Simply this. Sometimes there are no words for what we are going through. Sometimes, it is impossible to explain. And that is OK.

In a world where everyone has a thought and opinion. In a world where others voices are constantly bombarding us. It’s so very refreshing to sit back and say “I have no words, but you are welcome to come sit with me in my silence.”

In the Bible, in the book of Job, after he lost everything, his friends came and sat with him in silence. Later they gave their opinions, most of which weren’t helpful. But first they sat. Could we possibly learn from this? Sometimes there are no words. In those times trying to “come up with words” won’t do justice at all to what I or you might be going through. Not that words are wrong, obviously as I need them to write this, it’s just sometimes, silence is far better.

Yet that brings us to an entirely different thing–in this world full of noise we no longer know how to sit in silence. For the most part, it’s a lost art. One I am incorporating into this season. I fully admit, at first it was awkward. Very awkward. But I am discovering the absolute joy and beauty in silence. It’s in the silence I learn, grow and discover. It’s in the silence I hear. I hear more easily the whisper of God. And ohhh how I long to hear His whisper. For it’s His Words that unearth the unknown within and tell me who I really am.

So I ask…will you come sit in silence with me? But first, before we do, let’s be reminded of who God says we are: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N8WK9HmF53w