Trust and Obey
And just like that, my dress twirling lion roaring bundle of joy is five years old.
She has been anticipating her birthday for weeks, counting down the days and excitedly exclaiming to anyone who would listen just how many days were left until she turned 5. But as I tucked her in on the eve of her birthday, she got a little teary and said with all sincerity:“but what if I miss being 4?” I tried to give space for her sorrow before telling her to think of all the adventures she’ll have when she’s 5.
My girls are consistently valuable teachers in my life. And as I left her room I was struck once again with the importance of not rushing past the end of something, but taking time to grieve and say goodbye, before jumping (or in her case, twirling and roaring) into the next.
I’ve talked before of how I often dwell too much on the past, in search of comfort from the familiar, paralyzed by fear of the unknown. Bob thrives on the thrill of the unknown and gets uneasy if things are too comfortable. One is not better than the other, but rather, we balance each other out as we meet in the middle, in the now.
This summer for me is a “now” moment that I don’t want to miss. Changes are coming and I can’t stop them. Come September Elizabeth will be in kindergarten, away from me for 6 hours, 5 days a week. I will be entrusting others to help shape and teach her. Eleanor will be in daycare a few days a week. This will give me space to tackle some big projects I have brewing in my heart and mind. Bob will continue with his MBA. This in itself won’t be a change, except that he will be gone EVERY WEEKEND to Berkeley, CA now that pandemic restrictions are easing up. And yes, even the end of the pandemic and a “return to normal” brings changes.
While the last 18 months have been incredibly sad and difficult for many, the concentrated time as a family has been precious, helping us build a foundation on which to continue to build our lives together. I have treasured these simple moments, just the four of us, trying not to take them for granted. And so with changes charging full steam towards us, I find myself needing to take the time to say goodbye to the season that was. I’m not entirely sure how to do this well, but I’ll try to figure it out.
My counsellor and I had a discussion today about the difference between faith and living faithfully. I was mixing the two in my head, struggling to live by faith but bulking at change and wanting to control all that I could. My counsellor kindly reminded me that an important part of faith is trusting even when things are unknown; that perhaps it was possible to hold onto faith amidst the change and still live faithfully. In other words, let go of control as I walk into the changes, trusting that the God I put my faith in is in control (faith), and doing what is within my control to walk in obedience (live faithfully).
Did anybody else start to think of the hymn “Trust and Obey” or just me?
Forgive me if this is just a reiteration of something I’ve talked about before. (Isn’t that often the case? We relearn similar lessons, just in different seasons and from different angles?) But this feels different. There is no little bow to tie this up. I am very much in the now, in the middle, in the transition. And the little prayer in my heart is this:
Even when the tears run down my cheek Lord, give me joy to twirl, the courage to roar, and the faith to trust and obey. Cause there literally is no other way.
PS. We had a wonderful safari themed, driveway pizza party to celebrate our Elizabeth. She is full of life and love, sensitive and stubborn, equally loud and lovely, sharp and inquisitive, and somehow manages to both drive me crazy and motivate me to be a better me. Her birth ushered me to into motherhood and it has changed me. I think for the better. Her birth also stands out as one of the most traumatic moments in my life and the memories still hold a tinge of pain and sorrow. However, it is an absolute honour to be her mom and I nervously and excitedly anticipate the years ahead as we get to watch her grow.
