Transitions that Lead to Hope

Several people I know, including myself, are muddling through transitions. Some of these uncomfortable places feel like restlessness or that awkward limbo when we try to figure out God’s will for a new season.1 peter 2-23

Some transitions happen automatically because of the seasons of life: the empty nest, a new job or a special calling from the divine. Although natural transitions make us queasy, they’re a bit easier to accept than those places of questioning and identity search.

When restlessness signals a transition yet gives no apparent ending, it adds emotional stress and sometimes a period of spiritual pondering.

Who am I now and what does God require of me? Am I really hearing from God or am I just hormonal?

In these difficult open-ended posturings, it’s important to remember one thing: God can be trusted.

When we can’t see the end of the journey, God has already flipped to the last page. The Alpha and Omega has it covered.

When others try to advise us with their perceptions yet don’t really hear us, God listens fully, knowing the desires of our hearts.

When one step forward leads to a brick wall, God comforts with meanderings that lead us through the maze.

And when we languish in that most difficult of places – the agony of waiting – God provides sustaining power to help us persevere.

1 Peter 2:23 reminds us to “Entrust ourselves to the God who judges justly.”

And that’s where hope wraps us in its warmth.

When we turn over our transitions and our desire for answers to the One who is trust-worthy, he fills in the blanks.

Eventually, transitions move us into new seasons. As Anne Lamott writes, “When God is about to do something exquisite, it starts with something impossible.”

If we learn to entrust each period of change to God, then we can adjust well and in the process – find ourselves smack in the middle of God’s will.

©2015 RJ Thesman – author of the Reverend G books – http://amzn.to/1rXlCyh

 

Finding Hope While in Limbo

Hope wordIt is not an easy place to be – this no man’s land of unanswered prayers and constantly asked questions. For almost a year now, I have lived in a sort of limbo – questioning whether my role in life has somehow messed with my soul.

It is not a question of what I do, but of who I have become within this waiting period. I like my jobs. I love writing and I find coaching to be stimulating and fun. I love encouraging other writers and helping hurting women and putting the same 26 letters together to create different words and sentences.

Perhaps it is the age thing, edging closer to Medicare and not sure exactly how that happened when just yesterday I was 29.

Maybe it is because I am observing my wonderful son as he steps into a new job and moves forward to reach some of the goals of his life. I am so proud of him yet knowing that as he steps forward, I will be left behind. That emotional umbilical cord originates in the mother and stays connected. Only the child can truly cut it.

Perhaps this place of questioning comes from observing the changes in my mother’s condition, watching the Alzheimer’s steal her away piece by fragile piece. Scripture speaks the truth. Our lives are only a vapor…”a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes” (James 4:14).

Have I completed the tasks God designed for me to do before the foundation of the world? Can I still write more words, complete my goal of a book each year and yet find time to build relationships with the people I hope to reach?

Is God moving puzzle pieces around, fashioning the last pieces of this life on Earth so that he can sound that trumpet and bring his family home?

What is my role in these desperate days and am I taking as much care of my soul as I am of my role?

Trying to figure out the next stages of life can drive me crazy, so I travel back to the place where hope finds seeds of truth – that faith foundation that leaves the details in God’s hands.

My role is to persevere, to keep writing and coaching and serving, even as I wait for God to complete his sanctifying work in me.

And even if he calls me to live in this place of limbo, I seek hope within the waiting because I know he has a good plan and eventually – in the timing of his eternal clock – he’ll make it clear.

©2014 RJ Thesman – “Intermission for Reverend G” – http://amzn.to/1l4oGoo