
I am making a slow transition into 2024…
A slow transition back into being ‘online’…
A slow transition back into my art studio and sitting behind my laptop, clicking away at these keys…
A slow transition into life, really.
I do have COVID to partly blame for it, and now that I’ve been sick for almost a full week with it, I can honestly say getting COVID was likely a blessing in disguise as it forced me to slow down, to ease into the new year, but I had already decided to ease into 2024 prior to getting sick. God just has a funny mysterious way of making sure I keep to those plans.
One of the reasons for this intentionally slow transition is because sometime around Thanksgiving, when, funnily enough, I was also down with the flu (and I’m not sick often), I felt a subtle change was happening/had been happening in my life. It was so subtle, however, that I wasn’t sure what it meant, or what it was. It was just present and nudging me to notice it.
So, I accepted its request to notice it and naturally, I became quiet. Prayerful. Contemplative. Wondering what was happening. I was made aware of how many of my reactions to old-repeated hard things in our life were beginning to look differently, like I had more peace than usual. I was made aware of how the narrative in my head was starting to change more positively, like some new-found hope was being dusted off and uncovered. I was made aware that my heart felt more gratitude for our hard season than it ever had before. It was subtle. But it was there.
Over these last few months, I began to realize that perhaps what I was feeling was a transition into a new season, a heart-season. Not every turn of a new year welcomes a new season. The season I’ve been in now for many years has seen new years come again and again. But this was different.
I wanted to say it felt like the tides were changing.
And then I remembered a conversation I had with one of my kids recently. Our family discussed taking a day trip to the beach in the winter because we now live closer to it than we ever have. Two out of three of my children loved the idea. They, like me, are excited to experience what the beach has to offer during a time we’ve never been. The other child says, ‘but we can’t get in the water and the sand will be cold and we’d have to wear pants and the sand will get on our pants….(and some more objections)…” Perhaps the hidden meaning in that statement is that everything at the beach is the same - the tides are the same, the waves crashing, the sand, the shells, all of it is the same. But our experience of it is different because of the weather and how we must dress. So, it’s not the beach that is different or changed. It’s us.
When you are paying attention to your life, you understand these little realizations aren’t random at all. Even my child’s objections made me realize perhaps it’s not the tides that are changing, it’s me.
Of course, we are always changing, particularly as disciples of Christ; (hopefully) we are always becoming a better version of ourselves for the sake of the Kingdom. But, after living through a season of long-suffering, I am changed in a new way. Trauma changed me. I am no longer the same woman I was before all of this happened six or so years ago. And I’m finally truly grateful for it.
The gratitude you experience in your head is the right and good thing to feel – it’s the… “give thanks in ALL circumstances”1 type of gratitude. But a heart-gratitude takes time. It doesn’t happen instantly. It takes time for a genuine gratefulness to move from the head to the heart, but when it does, you know it. You finally know it. And like all things under God’s sovereign control and timing, it cannot be rushed.
So, what now? Well, that is where the intentional, slow, contemplative speed of moving into the new season becomes so important. I don’t want to miss what is happening, what the Lord is doing here. The movement taking place from the head to the heart.
I don’t want to miss what we learned, what we lost, what we gained, how God used it, how it ministered to others, or how it still can, how to see blessings in what felt like pain, how to be fully grateful for all of it…I don’t want to miss this because if I had charged into 2024 with my usual fervor for all ‘possibilities’…with hopes, dreams, planners filled with new disciplines, new journals to be filled, vision exercises completed…all of the above…I would miss it. Perhaps even all of it.
And one day, I’d look back and say, ‘Hey, we got through that hard season. Gosh, I can’t even remember when that happened but thank the Lord it has. Glad that is over.’ And that would be that.
I don’t want that. You don’t want that.
I hopped online and read from friends that they are excited to do more THIS and more THAT in 2024. They have lists upon lists of things they can’t wait to do this year. I could feel a teeny tiny sense of FOMO bubbling up because that is usually how I begin the new year and it is what I know and not doing it feels a little off. But I was able to overcome it quickly with my intentional slow pace (and yes, thanks to COVID) and can recognize that that’s OK for them, in fact, it’s great, and I’m happy for them. But it’s not for me. Not now, at least. Instead, I’ve chosen to feel JOMO - a joy of missing out.
Easing into a new season requires stillness. Quiet. Prayer. Reflection. Genuine gratitude. And more prayer.
I don’t expect God to answer my questions right away. I can’t expect to have a contemplative, reflective journaling sesh, or two or three, and feel like I’ve figured it out – who I am now, what to do with my story, what purpose it all served - and can move on and pick up where I left off.
There is no place of ‘left off’ where I’ll be picking up from because I am forever changed now and figuring out who I am now takes time. That season of long suffering came in to my life, stuck around for a while, did extensive damage, and now there is significant cleanup that needs to take place and very real scars that need time and help to heal.
It’s like a category four tornado that comes in the night, barreling through the town without time for people to prepare, damaging everything in its sight, and then as fast and sneakily as it came in, it leaves, unapologetically. It takes time to clean that mess up, particularly when the people weren’t prepared for it. When that season came in for me, we weren’t prepared, either. And I have learned through extensive therapy that THAT part of the season, the fact that that season had the audacity to come into my life unannounced, allowing my type A-ish self no opportunity to prepare, was in fact, a larger blow to my heart and psyche than even the painful trauma that occurred in the painful season. But with traumas, that’s not uncommon. At least that part is no surprise.
I don’t want to put these unrealistic expectations on myself. I want to RECEIVE God’s goodness and grace in this time of transition and personal change and not put pressure on myself to figure it all out as soon as possible. I must be gentle with myself and my Spirit - the way Jesus would want me to be to myself.
I’d love to think that our circumstances have changed and that we won’t be ‘back there’ again. I’d love to think those days are behind me and the ‘tides have changed’, a weight is lifted and I can move freely now from that burdensome season. I’d love to say we are moving on to a lighter season, where we can finally breathe, and the hard things that kept us up at night and our bodies in fight and flight are over for now. I’d love to say all of these things but I don’t know that to be true.
“…Yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead, you ought to say, “If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that.”” - James 4:14-15
I don’t know what the future holds, but I know who does. And that is OK by me. I can rest in that because I know he’s got good things in store for me because he is good.
My future is going to be alright, despite my circumstances, because he is good. And I am going to be alright, despite my circumstances, because he is good.
“We should not worry about the future, because our times are in His hands.” – Psalm 31:15
So, the tides haven’t changed, I have. But I don’t need to name it. Not yet. I’m still learning. I’m still processing. And that’s OK. Not everything needs a name right away.
And while my friends on social are busy making plans and inspired for action, here is what I’ll do:
Pause.
Reflect.
Pray.
Invite.
Worship.
Praise.
Give Thanks.
Get quiet.
Be still.
Listen.
And what about you? Does the start of the new year signal a fresh new season may be in store for you, too? If so, can I offer some advice to you, friend?
Please be kind and gentle to yourself and don’t rush anything. Take all the time you need and if you’ve ever struggled with receiving good gifts from your Father, now is the time to ask his help for you to become better at that. I’m preaching to myself here.
Receive his grace.
Receive his goodness.
Receive his healing and love and care.
And listen.
Can I pray for us?
Heavenly Father, you are good. You are sovereign and full of grace. You control all of time, the seasons of the calendar and the seasons of our hearts. Abba, in a world where busy is the norm and convenience is the goal, we know this work of transitioning to a new season takes time and prayer and above all, you. Father, help us sit with you in your safe place of refuge as we process our transitions. Speak to us, Father, and gently encourage our hearts along the way, particularly when it gets hard, when we feel stuck, when we are unsure. Help us to hear you. Father God, help us to receive every drop of goodness you have for us, not just now, but always. Give us the confidence to move forward because we can trust you with the plans you have for us. Help us, in our becoming, to grow in love and not in fear or doubt. Father, you change the seasons and your timing is always perfect. Thank you, Lord, for this transition into a new season. Thank you for knowing me so intimately that this was the exact time you chose for this to take place because it was best for me. I am grateful in heart and mind, Father. I pray in Jesus’s name, Amen.
All my love to you in 2024,
Kelly
This is the Time to be Slow
“This is the time to be slow,
Lie low to the wall
Until the bitter weather passes.
Try, as best you can, not to let
The wire brush of doubt
Scrape from your heart
All sense of yourself
And your hesitant light.
If you remain generous,
Time will come good;
And you will find your feet
Again on fresh pastures of promise,
Where the air will be kind
And blushed with beginning.”
― John O'Donohue, To Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Blessings
For reflection:
If you are transitioning into a new season or sensing a shift in your heart toward one, how can you be kind to yourself in the process?
“Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” - 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18
Kelly- I love your acute thoughtfulness, particularly on the bullet "Want to rush past hard." That's a tough one for most. So I enjoyed your transparency here.
Kelly, this spoke to me so deeply. I have gone into 2024 a bit down, weary. Wondering if God will heal our fractured family. Your wisdom and honesty is such good medicine to my heart. Thank you. ...(and admittedly I have been horribly sick with a severe sinus infection 😭) I am being patient with myself though. ox