The summer felt like a turbulent tornado. It was chaotic and honestly—stressful. We made it through that season, and now it is fall. As the dust settles, I’m now learning to adapt to our new lifestyle. And while the last season was stressful, I find adapting is not as easy as I imagined it would be.
The way of life and the comforts I had grown accustomed to have changed. What was predictable before with my husband is now spontaneous. As a private investigator work comes in spurts, and often with little to no notice.
Now my youngest child is a responsible young man. I must allow him to make adult choices trusting God that we trained him up in the way he should go and that he will not depart from that. (Do other moms and dads relate to this phase of letting go?)
We have a cute little rent house in a very friendly neighborhood, but it is much smaller than the larger, comfortable home we left behind. Adapting to less space, I confess, has been a difficult adjustment for me. I accept the fact that I’m not a candidate for the tiny house movement. Though I prefer more space, I’m learning to live with less.
During the windy season of transition, I lost my writing voice. It was the ultimate writers block. Nothing. Dry. I really felt like I needed to turn loose of the desire to share with the written word. But because I love writing and speaking so much, that tore at my heart in ways that caused aching in my soul.
The dust has settled and we are now in a new season of life. A season filled with promises of new things.
“See, the former things have taken place, and I’m announcing the new things— before they spring into being I’m telling you about them” (Isaiah 42:9 ISV).
In the dusty chaos, I could not see. But now I see that in this newness I am like a toddler on unstable legs. I’ve fallen several times, but like that little child learning to use his legs, I look up, reach out my arms, and see my heavenly Father pick me and steady me once again.
So as I wobble through this season of new things, I take one step at a time and do the next thing. I see the lost routines being reestablished in a new way. I see my son thriving in his new environment. I see my husband excited about each new case he receives. I see that my writing voice is being renewed.
Now I see the new things springing forth.
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