Finding the Silver Lining
What a year we have had! When, in all of history, have we shared a similar reality-shifting experience like the pandemic? But as a result of the global health crisis, we have a unique opportunity to reflect together on the last ten months of our lives. Perhaps, we can even grow together from this ground common to all of us.
What a year we have had! When, in all of history, have we shared a similar reality-shifting experience like the pandemic? But as a result of the global health crisis, we have a unique opportunity to reflect together on the last ten months of our lives. Perhaps, we can even grow together from this ground common to all of us.
As many of you know, my bent is to find the silver lining in every cloud. For you trivia buffs, I was interested to discover the idiom stems from a John Milton poem dating from 1634 entitled “Comus” that reads, “Was I deceived? or did a sable cloud/Turn forth her silver lining on the night?” Isn’t it fascinating that this historic stanza has encouraged us to look for the positive for almost four centuries?
If ever there was a year where we need to find the good in the bad, it is 2020. If ever there was a time when we need to hunt for reasons to hope, it is now, while we are stuck in a persistent quarantine from life as we knew it.
I have considered what changes 2020 has brought to our lives, and I was able to find examples of real encouragement: Yes, we have been separated from one another, but I believe we have more appreciation for being together, for sharing hugs with the people we care about.
We also understand more than we ever have that the presence of others in sickness and grief is irreplaceable to bring comfort and divide sorrow. And while we had to be concerned for our lives and the lives of our families, we are most likely much more grateful for good health. All of us have felt somewhat trapped in our homes, but we have had the opportunity to enjoy the outdoors and engage with our families in new ways.
I have also been so impressed with the adaptations of the business world. We have found creative ways to connect with our co-workers and customers and continue to build relationships virtually. Many offices were able to develop workplace flexibility to ensure the health of their employees and allow people to keep their jobs. I don’t know that we would have ever dreamed these changes possible without the lockdowns of 2020.
I know I have learned to cherish the simple times and to put aside the chaotic busyness for the things that matter to me. You may share my perspective that we are considerably more resilient than we were in March when this all began.
2020 has left me even more grateful for the precious things in life. For my family and friends, for my health, and for you, my clients, that I have the privilege to serve every day.
And let me also say, my heart goes out to all of you who experienced the worst of this pandemic year with job loss, Covid-19 diagnosis, or the tragic loss of a loved one. We pray for new jobs, recovered health, and comfort in your grief. As we enter the beauty of this season, I hope you find silver linings in both this past year and in every cloud you may encounter in 2021.
What is Fear Keeping You From?
It All Begins Here
As I prepared for my two-month solo trip in Europe during a global pandemic, I was asked repeatedly, “Aren’t you afraid?” And not five or six times. A slew of people put the question to me, with a wary look in their eye, clearly not sold on this idea.
At first, I laughed and said, “Nope,” and let the conversation meander off from there. But then I started to get curious. Too many people were asking to continue to brush it off. What did they think I should be afraid of? And would everyone respond the same way if I turned their query back on them?
So I began to say, “what would you be afraid of if you were me?” “There are terrorists all over Europe just looking for a woman to throw in their trunk never to be seen or heard from again!” Ah, no. Not worried about that one.
“What if something happens to you over there? What if you get Covid-19” Uh, bought travel health and transport insurance. I have copies of passport, licenses, and credit cards in several places. I have an emergency contact on the lock screen of my phone so that anyone can see it if they click the button. My daughter can track my whereabouts on her phone all the time. I can wash my hands, wear a mask, stay six feet away from people, stay off of public transportation, quarantine, or self-isolate if I get it, and then go to the hospital if I need it. In other words, I have lowered the risks. All Good.
But the fact that I am on this trip proves that I am conquering fear. (I have heard that there are 365 instances of “Fear not” in the Bible, one for every day of the year. I have never counted them, but it sounds about right, huh? We probably need that message e’ryday!) But if He says “fear not,” you can bet that means its possible. To live NOT fearing. Or fearing a lot less.
Tearing down those hedges. I have found that pressing in until I can name what I’m afraid of, with specificity, makes all the difference. Truth is, my biggest fear on this trip is wasting the opportunity I have. Just typing that turns my stomach. But what the heck does that mean anyway? Who gets to decide? How would I measure that? So that fear is not stealing squat from me! Every single day, I am being purposeful with the opportunity.
I am working on learning Italian. (Who doesn’t want to speak a romance language???) I am learning calligraphy. (K, honestly, I am not good, but I love trying.) I am writing a blog. (I had not planned on this one, but what the heck!) I am writing a fiction novel. (Did I mention this? Ha! 18 chapters and 50,000 words are already on the page! Woohoo!)
“Will you be safe in your Airbnb? You don’t know the person who is hosting. You don’t know the neighborhood! Are there other people staying there? Men, perhaps?” I chose a highly recommended host. I asked about door locks. I checked the neighborhood on Google maps. Again, did my homework. Chances are high that I will be fine.
“Well, who knows what could happen! What if your phone dies, and no one speaks English around you and you’re stranded with no food?” No real answer for that one since I am pretty sure the risk that all of that would happen at one time is minuscule.
But what was most surprising was the heavy pause that came before the responses, as if the fear was undefinable or intangible. “Safety, I guess, I don’t know. I just know I would be scared,” they said. So I asked a few, “then would you stay home?” And all of them said, “yeah, probably. It just makes me too nervous.”
I am regarding my own desires. (whew, we women suck at this.) I am learning to rest. (we might suck worse at this.) I am healing from years and years of driving myself like a relentless taskmaster to prove my worth and value. (k, that one’s a MAMA.) And I am building intimacy with God, His Son and His Holy Spirit. (Priceless!)
How could I ever get to the other side and say I am wasting this time? Oh, and by the way, only I get to decide that. Ain’t no other opinions welcome up in here! (This is new for me, this whole ‘only listening to my voice’ ~& God since he is always welcome~ on personal matters, and a VERY GOOD thing.)
So, fellow life sojourners, name the fear behind your hesitancy, stress, anxiety, insomnia (i.e. hedges). Take it apart, expose it to the light, wrestle it to the ground. Sometimes you will have to confess it and ask for help. A lot. Sometimes you will have to grieve your loss. Sometimes you will have to create a plan of attack, evaluate the risk, face the worst case scenario and debunk it, or kick it off the table because it has no real teeth to it. Sometimes you will have to eat chocolate.
And sometimes, you will have to save and plan and prepare and go on a two month solo trip to Europe.
The Power in Naming Your Seasons
It All Begins Here
Take some time. Just sit for a bit and reflect. You are in a season in your life; you always are. Can you put words to it? Can you piece together a phrase that captures it? That illuminates your inner world to you first and then to the tribe around you?
Years ago, when my kids were younger and times were hard, we started a little practice that helped all of us. We called it heart-checks. I would ask them how their heart was doing, and they would try to express what they were feeling inside. We limped along sometimes, and the truth was often ugly. But my bravest hope was that they would feel seen and heard by their mom. And as a mama who was so worried about her kiddos, I would receive invaluable insight into their thoughts and emotions.
Season-naming is like a heart-check, but with a broader spectrum and a strangely-centering outcome. I liken it to placing yourself in the context of your own life as you define that context. And it can be pure therapy. Comforting. Motivating. Enlightening. Redemptive. Shaking.
And then sharing your Named Season with the ones who help you beat life’s drum can invite intimacy and lead to a breathtaking connection.
I will go first.
The past two days have been some of the most remarkable of my life. Walking the streets of Florence was an utter delight for me on Thursday. Around every corner, I found another wonder. Ciao, Firenze!
I marveled and gasped and gaped. I ate and drank and stumbled through my infantile Italian.
I ambled over and up and through and in and within its glory. And I mean glory. In history and design and art and flavor.
And I chanted to myself continuously, “I am in Italy! I am in Italy! I am in Italy!” And I felt myself standing up out of the grave and sloughing off the dust and muck and heaviness.
So this question tugged at me through the glorious streets. How would I put words to this season of my life? I wanted the perfect language to convey the dimension and light and air breaking forth in me.
This, ladies and gents, is my season of Rising Up.
Out of the ashes of my past. Up from the first years of motherhood that I would call a season of Dismay in Battle. Up from the period when I was a stay-at-home mom that can best be described as My Disappearing. Up from the last years of my marriage, a Dark Water Swim that I knew would either drown me or strengthen me. And the year after my husband left that I would label Grief Personified.
Over the last year, I entered a weird season of Deciding to Live (who knew I had to decide that?) and leaped off a sort of cliff to make room for change. And now, I am Rising Up. And dragging that phrase onto center stage, I felt this internal alignment. Yeah, that’s good.
Anything hit you yet? Dig deep! Courageously face it. Take the transparency plunge.
Need more ideas?
What about a season called Hope-Dominated? Or Finding My Voice? Oh, or an empowering time called Believing Me? Or are you in one of the more challenging, winter-like seasons of Deep Valley or Strife Journey or Grinding Grief? How about the spring of Unsettling Freedom or Dawning Hope? The summer of Satisfaction or Accomplished? The autumnal season of Persevere or Spinning Lost or Transition?
Or the scariest, life-draining seasons called Avoidance, Heart Denial, or False Peace. Settling for Less.
Identifying your unique season allows you to gain presence in your own life. And whenever you connect to your existence, good things follow, like understanding, growth, true peace, healing, awakening, or dreaming. Intentionally dwelling in your journey impacts time, colors life, and sharpens vision. And somehow, even self-acceptance can become available to you. And you can learn or get moving or celebrate or just be still.
But the secondary and precious by-product of naming your season is that you will create ground to invite others to discern theirs. And then other people genuinely matter to you because you matter to you, and honestly, we desperately need to matter to one another.
Oh! And by the way, He can be found there because He lives in presence.
(We can find any season in our life in Easter week if we look for it. Here are some that I see. On Palm Sunday: Triumph. Praise Received. Seen. From Monday to Wednesday: Preparation. Behind the Scenes. Reflect. On Maundy Thursday: Intimate Fellowship. Servanthood. Travail. Surrender. Betrayal. To Friday: Falsely Accused. The Silent Time. Taking a Beating. Persevere. Cross Carrying. Burden-lifted. Pain-filled. Abandonment. An Unquenched thirst. Feeling Forsaken, Dying, Apparent Defeat. Denying Fear. Saturday: A Trip through Hell. The Aftermath. Rescued. Sunday: Chain-Breaking, Death Shedding, Dawning. Victory.)
It’s Sunday morning for me, y’all, and I haven’t had many of these. Woohoo! And I can’t believe it is here. Undeniably, unarguably, unequivocally. And I am grateful for these two months that I have to let it come because I don’t think I would have in almost every other life scenario. God knew.
Whatever your season, I raise a glass to you and with you. The treasure we are lends depth and breadth to every season, treacherous or tenacious or tender. May you rest in the green pastures, grow through the battles and rise from the valleys.
