“Are you tired? Worn out?”
A dear friend of mine has been struggling with the winds of change, a physiological force that is familiar to us both as we have moved through deep losses and unbridled joys. As she shared her confusion at the loss and sadness she is currently experiencing as she prepares for her daughters impending wedding, I thought of the changes that I too am facing in the year to come:
The birth of my first grandchild, two of my adult children moving out of state to further their professional aspirations, my youngest son graduating from high school, and moving out of state to attend college, and my youngest child passing the threshold from pre-teen to teen.
Perhaps, I am coming of age, if you know what I mean, and the sheer velocity at which the changes seem to be coming are earth shaking. I have found myself unexpectedly moved to tears, each and every time I am reminded of the changes that are to come, even if they can truly be considered beautiful and good gifts.
“Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life.”
As I considered what my dear friend is experiencing, and what it seems we each face as we daily release ourselves into the hands of our loving Father, I could not help but wonder if the feelings were not only a sense of loss, but even more accurately the pains of change. Like growing pains, they stretch our muscles, and lengthen our gait, but at the same time exhaust and weary us, until we can get out the ruler, stand up against the wall, and prove that we have increased in stature.
“Walk with me and work with me---watch how I do it"
As women, our very design suggests that we will be forever releasing. Our bodies give up our children from the safety of our womb, and from that moment we will always be opening our hands in a form of surrender. A birth, a death, launching a child into their future, these are the true seasons of change, and of life, and like a torrential rain storm they can force us to take cover against the whipping winds that will eventually create change; Undeniably painful for us as women, who in some way are always releasing, always letting go.
“Learn the unforced rhythms of grace.”
I have spent the better part of the last two decades facing this one simple constant in my life; change will come; it will come early and often, with or without my permission, and always, always, God is in it. He has whispered in my ear, “Trust me,” and I have confirmed that I do. Sometimes that trust is mixed with trepidation, weariness, sadness, and even joy, but when I hear His voice reminding me to trust, I know something is going to change, and often I realize, it is me.
“I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you.”
Despite the letting go, I love being a woman, and even more, I love being a woman who loves God. I know these things are true of my wonderful friend, and while her heart rejoices in her the preparations for her daughters wedding, her soul knows, change is coming. Loving Him makes every release purposeful, every sadness worth bearing, every delight richer, and ultimately, as women of God we know that we can trust that each time we open our hands in surrender He will teach us to live freely and lightly, and will ultimately, make every moment of every hour of each of our lives for His good use.
“Keep company with me, and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”
Be the God of encouragement to each of us as we seek to serve you faithfully in these lives filled with constant change. You and you alone, make the winds work worthwhile, and You and you alone comfort our souls when the winds weary. Help us to live freely and lightly in your unforced rhythms and grace.