Transition is a tricky thing. I feel off-balance, which makes me annoyed. Very annoyed, actually, and kind of a pill to be around.
I asked my husband if he needed my help this morning (you know, trying to pack our house with his arm in a sling might be a little challenging). His response?
"I need you to go do whatever you need to do in order to recharge" (my paraphrase).
In other words, get the grumpies out.
I'm trying. I promise, I'm trying. But they don't seem to want to go away. It's been weeks now. At first, I blamed it on stress, then sickness, then fatigue. I'm running out of places to look, so, this morning, I looked inward.
Am I in sin? I asked God. Why can I not find a place of peace or joy?
Sometimes (I know this from experience) He will answer that first question with a 'yes', pointing out the sin and giving an opportunity for repentance. I was hoping for that, in a way. It would have been easier than this weird no-man's land I'm wandering through. But instead, I heard one word: "attack."
I think this transition is important. I think God is reordering some things (see Upside Down and Inside Out). And I think, somebody doesn't like it.
"The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; ...." John 10:10, NIV
So, the question becomes, how do I respond?
In my youth I would have taken on the enemy head-on, focusing a lot of myself on the battle. Now, I don't know...now, I simply don't have the energy for that. There's something very liberating about that realization/admission.
It's not about me, my understanding of truth, my ability to fight it out.
It's about Him. Who He is and how He is and what place He holds in my life.
The second part of that verse in John holds the key: "...I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full."
My life is because He has come. My life will be full (of joy, of peace) because of His presence in it. So, instead of focusing on the enemy, on the battle, I'm focusing on Him. Gritting my teeth and grinding it out by reading Scripture and praying and taking thoughts captive, turning my eyes from one view of the world to another as the storm passes overhead, hunkering down in the darkness while waiting for the light.
As I do, I thank God that none of this depends on my strength. Sometimes He calls us to stand beside Him and engage in the fight. But other times (more times, I think), He waits for us to lay down in submission and let Him. So, I submit, I bow down, I wait. As a friend pointed out this morning, Psalm 130 is the order of the day during this transition. Amen, come Lord Jesus.