Joe looked at me with a weighted gaze and said, It’s kind of like the calm after a storm when you have to go outside and start cleaning up your lawn. I nodded. I have been thinking about this a lot. For me, it’s like after a really intense cardio portion of a workout when your lungs are burning but you aren’t done yet. The instructor yells, Now it’s time for biceps! So you have to control your breathing and keep going. Now, breath. Now, pick up the weights. Now, bicep curl.
That is the phase we are in now. Trying to breath. Trying to build.
When we were married our pastor said something that will always stick with me. He said, there will be seasons of calm and seasons of storm. For the first time in a long time, I feel we are entering a season of calm. After dating long distance during my capstone year of school, starting my business, coping with my dad’s terminal cancer diagnosis, getting married, moving to Wisconsin, buying a house, changing our diet, losing my dad after our absolute best efforts to keep him healthy, we are here. Newly married home owners in rural Wisconsin with a healthier diet and a simpler life who just experienced first hand how devastating and unfair life can be.
In this next season after the storm, we sit with what we have and what we have lost. We continue the slow, hard work of cultivating our lives. Now, breath. Now, pick up the weights. Now, bicep curl.
I used to not appreciate the calm seasons, before my dad’s cancer diagnosis. I felt uncomfortable and restless there. I felt like I wasn’t doing enough or being enough. I was always waiting for what was next, what was exciting. So I understand completely why sometimes in our lives we create the storm. Because we are afraid to live in the calm. We like to be busy. We wear our busy-ness as a badge of honor. We rush from one thing to the next and pile more and more activities into our schedules until we are living in a storm of distractions. Because as long as it’s storming, we don’t have to go out into the lawn and start the hard work, the cleaning up. We don’t have to breath. We don’t have to roll up our sleeves, pick up the spading fork, and get our hands dirty to cultivate what is actually important to us.
No matter what season you are in, I encourage you to make time for stillness. I once thought that healing could not begin in the middle of a storm. But it can. I am so thankful that I made the choice to start cultivating the things that were important to me, even in the middle of a stormy season. By getting rid of the busy work, I was able to focus on the important work. And I am able to enter this season of calm proud of who I am and the life I am building.
Are you cultivating what’s important to you? I created a free guide to help you find out. Get the download below.