Swaying in the waves of change

I was recently sharing with a friend that my life feels like a boat swaying on the water. A canoe in the middle of a lake. Vulnerable. Open, yet somehow trustworthy on the water.

As I paddle from the shallows into deeper water, I find myself sighing as I move farther from the shore, from the familiar life I have always known, and toward the unexpected horizon of new adventures and a life I am only beginning to discover.

I’m in a season of transition.

This season began last November, after my most recent surgical trip to Guatemala with Sharing the Journey International. What I thought might be my last visit to Guatemala for the foreseeable future turned out to be the trip that would change the trajectory of my life.

Something beautiful and powerful happened in my heart when I landed back home. In a single moment, I felt the call and heart of God for an entire people group.

I briefly searched for a way to help and love them within my current life, but I couldn’t see how it was possible. Then, almost immediately, and through the encouragement of a friend, I was invited to consider giving up my life in the United States to live and dwell among them.

Tears. So many stingy tears ran down my face. So much fear washed over my body.

Could I give up everything and begin my life again in another country? In Guatemala?

Yet ever present alongside the fear was a deep calm and reassurance: any life lived following Jesus where He leads would always be okay and cared for. I knew this in my gut. I knew this was His invitation. To take the biggest leap of faith I had ever taken.

I knew He had been preparing me over the past several decades for this ask.

There was no way I was saying no.

I gave God my yes.

I told my boss. I spent two weeks scouting and praying in beautiful Guatemala. I shared the news with my family and close friends. Then I began taking apart the lovely life I had built here in Pennsylvania. I parted with things. I moved out of my apartment.

Each step was another yes of obedience.

I grieved. And I grieved. And I still grieve.

I’m learning that no matter how beautifully the landscape of your dreams beckons you, the heartbreak of goodbye, and of letting go of other dreams left unmet, is real, visceral, and valuable. It is something to experience, not rush through. Something to honor and make space for.

As I live this current season with family, I find myself drifting among several things: consciously expressing gratitude, letting go of the past, allowing myself to be unrushed and present in the moment, and planning and sculpting the beginnings of an unknown future.

These are the waves hitting my boat from every side, each competing for my attention. Each asking to be seen and navigated.

Sometimes, it is all I can do to remain balanced in their wake. To weather and endure them without getting sick.

Grace is the word of the moment. It is the word of this season.

By definition, grace is the love and favor God gives us even though we have done nothing to earn it.

Hi. This girl, raising her hand, is in desperate need of it daily.

I think of mothers, lovers, and anyone beginning again, stumbling their way through uncharted territory, desperately wanting to know which way to go and what to do. I think of the ways we beat ourselves up over choices made and wrong turns taken. I think of the glimmers of hope we carry after a win, and the collapse of exhaustion when we finally surrender to the overwhelm.

I think of all of us as we try to live lives worth sharing about. Lives worthy of the breath we are given each day.

Grace in the transition.

Grace for this single gal who desperately wants to rest in the arms of love and be told that she’s doing a good job and that it’s going to be okay.

In this adventure, His arms are open. His chest is strong. And He has me.

In the good choices. The bad ones. The hard ones.

God has me.

And it means everything to me.