The Middle Season.

Once upon a time there was a young woman who believed in her heart she would do great things. Or maybe, just one really good thing. She had the understanding that while she was not a possessor of multiple talents, there was tucked deep inside of her a tiny bundle of mysterious knowing that God had something in mind especially for her to do. The seed of her personal mission from God was implanted, creating a buoyancy of expectation as it does when one is young, feeling their whole life is before them, with plenty of time to figure it out, to stretch and grow.

Just as she rounded the curve of her late-twenties, emerging through a season of disruptive cultivation in which all she knew to be firm and factual was uprooted (and in some cases, weeded out), she found herself knee-deep in the early years of motherhood, with precious little time and brain clarity to reflect on the shift in her life. She blamed it on sleep deprivation. It was bare bones, spiritually speaking, during those years...and it was enough. In the pursuit of survival, she almost completely forgot about that "tiny bundle of mysterious knowing" inside of her. There wasn't even time to speculate if it had grown or what it would become. And that was ok.

The now not-so-young woman passed through the early motherhood season (which felt eternal during) into the middle one. The middle one involved many factors, both internal and external:

*children are in school, creating glorious SPACE and QUIET,  with more time to nourish herself spiritually. You once again become aware of that little knowing.

*children come home from school, like cattle through a shoot. School papers, noise, homework, activities,  dinner, counseling, etc. (the spiritual nourishment takes a hit).

*More time, yes...but also, more boundaries with time. Keeping up with what you could not for years, namely, laundry .

*The real thinking part of parenting is introduced. After years of primarily physically demanding work, your brain is called to action and it's a bit alarming. You're still tired from Phase 1, but you realize Phase 2 involves both. You wonder if you'll completely lose yourself - and the newly rediscovered yearning for more--in the role of mother.


The Middle Season is a weird little place with awareness behind and uncertainty in front. You can find yourself in it at any point in life. It's a season most every human has found him or herself in and it requires faith to forge through.

This woman now finds herself with a bit of time to remember that little seed she used to coddle and wonder over and feel purpose from. She feels that surely it has grown enough to be clearly visible, if not to others, at least to herself. And it is, but still, it's not clear what exactly what it is. It's easy to look around and see what everyone else is doing with their own. Some people have several growing wildly...all at the same time, and quite successfully! How do they know so instinctively what they are to do? Where do they get their energy or find the time to do it? Is this mysterious offering inside of me even something the world really needs? It appears there is plenty of everything going on already. And even though she still has the knowing it is THERE, she also hears a whisper that says "Almost! Just wait a little longer. It's not quite time...". 

***

The Middle Season is where I have been living. God has been growing ME up in the midst of it and with it that seed of personal mission must be stretching out too. One of my favorite offshoots of growth is coming to grips with what I am and what I am not. This has been important to understand, accept and embrace. I've been able to let go of the expectations dragging me down and embrace the few things I do well. Even with all of that, I still feel as though God still has something else in mind for me. It's hard to put in words, but if you have that same inkling, I know you'll be able to fill in the blanks.

As I wrote in my last post, we live in a world that is obsessed with showcasing. This is especially true when it comes to our gifting. This is not all bad and in fact, I think there is much good that comes from it. It simply makes it fertile ground for comparison or for giving up on nurturing a gift when you are one of the hearts who knows there is something God has planted inside of you and yet your understanding of it, the practicality of it and/or the timing for it haven't quite lined up...YET.

Last week, I took a long walk along the shore. I decided to walk as long as it took to clear my mind, which ended up being over two miles (it's become a junk drawer of thoughts). With my eyes fixed on the horizon, I kept the last remaining errant thoughts from entering and I told God if there was anything I needed to hear, I was listening. No obligation.

No audible voice was heard, these four thoughts came consistently lapping into my quieted mind:

1. Keep your eye on your Maker. 
Keep your vision, eye contact, concentration on the One who made you. Make time to reacquaint yourself with the God who is stirring something in you. Draw near to Him and He will draw near to you. He knows the plans He has for you. You're gift might look similar to someone else, someone who seems to be right where you think you should, but that's only a surface glance. God see's below and beyond and far and above that which we can. What you have is needed to reach specific places at a specific time, and your Maker has a viewpoint deep and wide enough to release it for maximum impact, and rarely is it measurable this side of heaven. Keep your eyes on your Maker, not the measuring.

2. Do not frantically search for the Message/Mission/Whatever You Want to Call that Unspoken Knowing.
It is already inside of you, waiting for the time when God calls you to use it. It's been quietly growing and deeping as you experience life, faith, heartache and happiness. This is what is watering it. Keep the eyes of your heart on your Maker, and in the right timeit will be uncovered, shown, made clear to you...and even though you will likely doubt or feel adequate to the task, you will know it's time to take that step.

3. Do not fret over or try to figure out the means by which it will come.
My imagination has always been a good friend and a dream-dampening enemy. It's a perpetual assumption that the release of my "gift" will be triggered by a horrible tragedy. "She came through a fatal accident that took the life of her entire family, leaving her with nothing but stubs as as arms...and now she shares her story, after teaching herself how to type with her unusually long toes..the only part of her body left unscathed.". Every time I've thought of the means by which God will chose to use me, my inner control freak emerges and tries to prepare myself for the misery. We all have different struggles. Perhaps others struggle with matters of practicality or insecurity. For me, it's my over-active imagination...and one-dimensional, warped sense of how God works. We've all got our party poopers.


4. Do not try to control the wattage of the light given to you.
We all have a light within, ignited by faith and hope in God and the good things He has prepared us to do. It is our job to keep it lit (and even that we need help with at times), but it is NOT our job to control it's reach. I know I often try to minimize the small ways I think God uses me, because i perceive it to be a matter of humility, when it's actually suggesting my understanding is greater than God's. Focusing on ways to increase my wattage is no better. I can relax my grip. The wattage of my light is God's business. Not mine.

I walked back another two miles to my place on the beach, thanking God for choosing to air-drop that message into my heart and head. I share it only in hopes it will encourage someone else like me, who is living and loving and still waiting in the middle season.

 God can do anything, you know—far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams! He does it not by pushing us around but by working within us, his Spirit deeply and gently within us.

Ephesians 3:20

(and this, courtesy of Jen Hatmaker):