The Turmoil of Transitions

If I could describe how these last few months have felt through an image, it has felt like a giant sandstorm just above my head.

So many things have changed for me in the last 3-4 months. These changes, transitions and new additions in my life are so good, and have brought me much joy and peace. But with all transitions, there is also sorrow, anxiety and mourning.

I think because of how quickly everything started to change, my emotions about it all have sort of felt above my head. Swirling, blowing; a sand storm. I am aware that it is there, I am feeling sporadic gusts wind and storm, but not in a way that has felt permanent. It's just above my head, for the moment.

I have always known that the storm would settle, one day. The sand would stop swirling above me and would start to land on me and around me. Everything I feel about these transitions and changes would actually become my present reality, not just something in the future.

Today, I awoke in tears and realized, ah, Emma, there we have it. The sand is settling. It's time for an emotional rollercoaster.

Oh how I have dreaded it. Dreaded feeling the sorrow of leaving people and places that I love. Dreaded the fear I knew I would feel when realizing that I am actually leaving a job I love to do something new for the Lord. Dreaded the anxiety I would experience knowing that my relationships with people I love will never look the same or feel the same in this new season. 

But here we are. The dust and sand is settling, and it's time to feel. 

It is heavy.

Showing my emotions and vulnerability has never been easy for me. Maybe it is an oldest child thing, maybe it is just a self preservation conditioned into me by woundedness. I would so much rather care for other people's emotions and be present to them, rather than let others help me carry mine.

But as I sat in prayer this morning, just weeping before the Lord, the one place I feel truly safe to let it all out, He spoke to me four simple words. “Daughter, it is okay”. 

It is okay that this is hard for me. It doesn’t mean it is wrong, or that I am somehow lesser than.

It is okay that I will need help. That doesn’t make me a selfish friend, sister, daughter or girlfriend. If these people truly love me, they will love me more by sharing with them my needs and this cross.

It is okay that sometimes my emotions and feelings feel overwhelming. That I need to slow down, let it out, and feel sorrow.

It is okay to feel sadness and happiness at the same time. 

It is okay that I don’t know the full picture of what my life will look like in 6 months, 8 months or 1 year. The relationships I am afraid of losing and the tumult of anxious wonderings flooding my thoughts does not mean I need to grasp for control, or run away. Jesus, who knows my heart best, has these relationships and their futures safe within His hands. 

It is okay that all I can see in the path forward is the step in front of me. It is okay that I am little and weak. 

Jesus, I choose to live in Your resurrection and live in Your hope. I choose to place my dreams in your hands rather than thinking they are mine to control. 

Jesus, I choose to let the dust settle and await the clear skies you are preparing for me.

Jesus, I choose You.