Upon hearing my journey of the past twelve months, people might consider me an expert in transition. Granted, I can't blame them. In the past year I decided to take a new job, fell in love with my now husband while living in two different countries, made an international move, moved to a new city (where I knew no one) and started a new job. Then I got engaged, left said new job and city for another new job and city (again, knowing no one), got married, went on a honeymoon and here I am. If that's not a whirlwind of a year, I'm not sure what is.
And now as the dust is settling from my slightly nomadic state of life for the past year, I find myself feeling a little...lost. Somewhere in the midst of transition, I've forgotten the heart of who I am and allowed myself to be defined by the "what". What am I doing? What do they think about me? What do they see in me? What is my job title? What is my pay grade? The "whats" haunt my every thought - distracting me during the day, keeping me tossing and turning at night, twisting what once was confidence and freedom into doubt and fear.
It's easy for me gloss over the magnitude of the transition my soul has experienced in the past twelve months. It's easy for me to live just barely surviving between the gap of guilt and grace. It's easy to walk the line of lists and self-inflicted pressure. It's quite easy to ignore my soul needs for the sake of attempting to simply feel better...or to feel nothing at all.
Transition of any kind - stressful, exciting, major, minor, joyful, stormy - is still transition. It still causes some type of shift in identity. And no matter the magnitude, it's still important. Taking time to reflect, remember and grieve the person I used to be, all the while rejoicing in this new person I am becoming because of transition is vital. God is still showing up, weaving in unique pieces of my story and paving a way for a different me to emerge. So instead of the "what", I'm learning to let myself be defined by the "who". Who am I? Whose am I? Who am I striving to be? Whose heart does my heart belong to? These are the most important questions we could ever ask ourselves in these moments of confusion. These are the questions that define us, define our lives, define that deepest part of ourselves that is always trying to surface.
Seasons of transition sometimes feel like they will swallow me up whole. Drowning in the newness of every single little thing, exhausted from the mental game of re-learning all I once knew, seeing a different kind of purpose and watching as a part of me I never knew existed emerges. There can be freedom in transition - freedom to let transition change me and mold me and shape me. Life is organic and I am a fool to believe that I will be the same person for my entire life. Instead of dreading the transition and change and grief, maybe I should open myself to it. Lean into it as the gift of grace it is. God is always moving, working, sculpting our lives into what He sees best fit. What if I actually learned to believe that? That in transition, He is still good? He is still holy? He is still with me?
