It’s difficult to wait for new to emerge.
It’s so easy to remember what once was and begin thinking in the old ways, the old patterns.
But to detox and let go of what once was, to acknowledge and mourn the losses…
Waiting does not mean nothing or nothingness.
(Although it can certainly feel that way at times.)
I’m finding that waiting requires restraint, an active choice to relinquish and not rush to outcomes or meaning, but to just embrace the interim space, really, the liminal space, and allow the creative work that has been going on to manifest itself.
There is a requisite trust.
I am not God.
God is God.
And He is still at work…
Even when I’m not feverishly in pursuit…
of anything or anyone.
It is a detaching from demanding life be what I want.
It is a detaching from demanding anything or anyone else be what I want.
It’s not not having dreams or desires— no, it’s the opposite:
It’s letting those dreams and desires have a voice. It’s letting disappointments loose and honoring them with your tears. It’s remembering that the story is not over and that there’s always more to live.
It is learning a new rhythm.
The rhythm of grace.
For I am not alone.