Because they are my step kids...and I’ve only known them as teenagers, I didn’t think the transitioning season would affect me…not like “real” moms. Moms who you know…knew their children as children.
Alas...transitions have a way of sneaking up on you and bringing an entourage of emotions. And I’m sitting squarely in the middle of them.
Something my husband has learned about me in our almost 5 years of marriage – I don’t do transitions well. But the funny thing is, I think I do. While the general population may struggle with change – I welcome it.
If some change is good, more change is better – so I throw gasoline on it. We all have our way of coping. But, I’ve realized it isn’t always healthy...some embers were merely meant to smolder...not rise up into a roaring flame.
Let me explain. When I got married, moved 3 hours west and swapped “single” for “stepmom,” I was virtually unaffected. Or so it seemed. Except the fact that I subconsciously translated domestication with a lost sense of purpose. How was I to save the world when I couldn’t even figure out what was for dinner (much less cook it)? So I tried to join the National Guard. Yeah. And it turns out...I was too old. I’m telling you this now because enough time has passed that others should laugh at the absurdity – as my husband and I do (now). Change was throwing me off balance, so I figured I’d jump and add fuel to the fire. God graciously brought my feet back to the ground (although the age thing kind of stung).
Today I find myself amidst transition again...which wasn’t going to affect me. But it is. And so I’ve begun, searching, grasping for the Next. Big. Thing. What purpose can I champion? What mountain can I move?
I wonder if I’m alone. In seasons of transition...how do you cope?
From the floor of my prayer closet, knees bent low. I asked for my mountain.
But I received a quiet invitation…
The impression that this next season isn’t about doing – it’s about becoming. Purging some things from my heart that I’ve let creep in. Loving better. Returning to the Lord as my comforter…my first love.
I’ve already asked you to do some quieter things. Start. There. The mountains will wait.
I sheepishly set my figurative gas can back out in the garage – save the flaming fire for another day and surrendered to my desk...old journals, resurrected from storage, strewn about. I had sensed the Lord ushering me back into a season of writing a few months ago. I picked up the journal before me and whispered a prayer...seeking confirmation. Are you really calling me to a more contemplative writing season? I started reading an entry from March 2009, “I find myself sitting in a church pew awaiting my first writer’s conference...”
My note’s from Cecil Murphey’s* session, The Significance of Insignificant followed, “We change lives when we become who we really are – and allow the Lord to use you. Not when we go out to change lives.”
So it seems, this next season isn’t about doing – it’s about becoming.
What transition is before you? Are you like me and beginning to scramble as you look for the next big thing? There’s certainly a time for doing. But before we get into the doing – perhaps it’s time we pause and pay attention to who we are becoming and simply do the small things the Lord puts before us today.
Job 37:5-6 says that "God’s voice thunders in marvelous ways; he does great things beyond our understanding. He says to the snow, ‘Fall on the earth,’ and to the rain shower, ‘Be a mighty downpour.’" Job 37:5-6 (NIV)
He does great things…we do simple things. He says to the snow ‘fall on the earth’ – and so it falls. He says to the rain shower to be a mighty downpour and so the clouds burst forth.
There is significance in being insignificant. We change lives when we become who we really are – and allow the Lord to use us. Not when we go out to change lives.
What has the Lord set before you today? Who are you becoming?
*Cecil Murphey has written or co-written more than 135 books, including the New York Times bestseller 90 Minutes in Heaven (with Don Piper) and Gifted Hands: The Ben Carson Story (with Dr. Ben Carson).