“Louise, you need to write about transitions,” one of my friends said to me this week. I laughed. I’m not really the best person to write about life’s transitions, I thought.
I have a calendar where I write my blog post ideas. For this blog post I had something already in the date box and it wasn’t transitions. But this morning, when I woke up, I felt the Lord stirring in my heart. Transitions. Transitions. As I did my quiet time with Him, transitions kept swirling through my head. So, to my dear friend who made the suggestions, this post if for you.
My friend and I were talking about the transitions we are in right now.
She said to me, “We are losing our dogs.” As you know from my post World’s Greatest Dog and a Facebook blurb, my heart broke when we had to put Baci down. She was my dog for twelve and a half years. We still have Foxy, a sweet little beagle, but her days are numbered as well. We will, probably within the next year, be dogless (that is not a word, but go with it, for me.) That will be a transition for sure. If you are a dog lover, you will understand that this is a weird time. What is weirder is that we are actually talking about having some dog free time. I am wondering what it is like to be able to just go somewhere over night without worrying about getting back home to feed and give medicine to a dog.
Transitions.
“Our kids are getting older.” Yes, they are. She is an empty nester and within five years, that will be me too. I’ve lived long enough that I know I will blink and the house will be quiet. This past Christmas I received a Christmas card from a friend whose husband writes fantastic letters. It’s one of my Christmas highlights. This year their card came in the mail and I opened it up with excitement. I gathered everyone in the living room and I read the letter to them. It was a poem written in the same nature as the beloved Christmas story “Twas the Night Before Christmas.” It was all about how their house was quiet now that the kids were gone. I was crying by the end of it because it was as if I were reading prophecy. Kurt and I exchanged looks of, “Oh no, that’s going to be us soon.”
Transitions.
My friend recently lost her mom. Although she didn’t say it, I’m sure she was thinking it. My parents are not getting younger. I see age taking its toll on my parents. I watch friends care for their aging parents. I see pain in their eyes as they leave work to rush to the hospital because a parent has been admitted. Twenty years ago, everyone’s parents were healthy and full of life. Twenty years, even ten years ago.
Transitions.
Two weeks ago, I got the call from another friend’s husband, my friend, quiet possibly my dearest friend, aside from my sister, was being admitted to the hospital for heart issues. The next day, I was with her, held her hand, kissed her cheek, and prayed with her. My friend had a heart attack and she’s only 11 years older than me. Last night, Kurt and I went to my school’s fundraising auction. We got all dressed up and felt like a million bucks. I tried ignoring the way my knee was throbbing as I focused on how good my hair looked thanks to my hair stylist, she gave me a fresh coat of color on my roots and curled my hair so I would feel pretty. I was filling up a small plastic cup with water when it just slipped from my fingers and landed on the floor. Water running down my legs, I stood there in shock. Thanks to my arthritis, I couldn’t even hold a small cup of water. My body is failing me. As I type this, my hand aches, but I type on, I will not be defined by pain.
Transitions.
How do we navigate them? I don’t know. Back to the original conversation, I told her, “We have to be here for each other and we pray.” I know it sounds simple, but that’s what I write about here at Living Bellissima. Simple steps, simple solutions, simple advice. Simply put we pray. We take our requests to the Lord and we ask for wisdom as we navigate life’s road. Secondly, we do life together. You are not alone. God has put people in your life to walk with you, to hold your hand, to pray with you, to bring a smile to your face, and to remind you that God has a plan for you. And finally, look forward!
“‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you,’ declares the Lord.” Jeremiah 29:11-14a (NIV)
Look forward! Probably the best piece of advice I could give is to look ahead at what God has planned for you. Just because you are in transition right now, doesn’t mean you stay in transition. How do we know that what’s around the corner isn’t greater than anything we’ve experienced so far? Ephesians 2:10 says, “For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” Pray through your transition with a heart of expectation for the good works God has for you to do. Remember, before time began, He planned those good works. Isn’t it wonderful we can have hope of our future? Serving Him through the next phase of life fills my heart.
But for today, for this very moment, stop and smell the roses. Take mental note of where you are today. Cherish the moment. Don’t get bogged down in the what if or the how long. Instead, breathe in the now. Face it, whether it be scary, or sad, or uncomfortable. Breathe it in and accept. This is the time and place the Lord has for you today. For really, isn’t that we are wrestling with, remembering the good old days. They are behind us. Today, this is the good day. Like the old song, “This is the day that the Lord has made, I will rejoice and be glad in it.” Next year, today will be the good old days. Friends, I hope you will squeeze your child a little tighter today, pat that dog on the head, and thank God for today, a good day.
