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Moments for Mom - May 2008
A couple months ago I talked about slowing down, about maybe even stopping. Then I stopped. I quit my job of four-and-a-half years. At the church I’ve attended for fourteen-and-a-half years. I never thought I’d leave that job. I thought they’d have to wheel me out in about thirty years because I no longer understood “the new generation”. This stepping down stunned even me. I’m still in process over the implications as, at the time of this writing, I’ve only been out of work and back from
I have to admit though that I’m scared. Will I fill my time with television and shopping? Will I become more isolated without the requisite meetings filling up my life? Will I pursue God and what I think I hear He’s calling me to? Which is still blurry at best… Something about resting. And listening. And following my passion. But beyond that it’s just people looking like walking trees. Sorry, random Mark 8 reference…in other words, my future is not yet all that clear to say the least. Which in and of itself is scary.
A few years ago I remember being on a walk in my cuter-than-cute neighborhood. And I remember wondering how God would ever be able to inject surprise and adventure into my pretty darn set in place (at the time) life. I knew who my husband would be for the rest of my life. I knew who my two children would be for the rest of my life. I knew the house I would grow old in and the streets I’d try to defy aging by walking up and down. I knew the church I’d marry my kids off in. I knew the job I’d have to be carted away from. I knew the five girls who’d be my friends til my dying day. My only future travel would entail the occasional trip to
And now…just a short couple years later, I live in a different house on a plot of land that doesn’t even sit in an actual neighborhood, my church has changed identity and pastors, my passion is for the heart of the poor and a continent I finally got to experience firsthand, I’ve been to two third-world countries, and my job is in my rearview mirror. The husband, kids and friends stay standing, which I’m grateful for. But man oh man. Did I ask for all this upheaval? I don’t think so. It’s been so much in so little time. The human part of my soul whispers, “It’s been too much, Jesus…please stop for a little while…I can’t handle any more…” But the resilient part, the divine part, says just a bit louder, though still in a whisper, “Here we go…slow me down, heal me up, then what’s just up ahead?”
You know what? I can only hear those quiet deep down voices because I’m choosing to throw off some of my hindering things. And this is just the beginning. There are so many voices I hushed along the way because of my busyness. But not anymore. I’m going to walk slower and breathe more deeply and sit a bit longer with that cup of tea and listen, really listen, to the still small voice of God. “Cease striving and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10) And I cannot wait to discover what surprises and adventures are just around the bend for this tired but hopeful girl.
© Elisabeth Corcoran is the author of In Search of Calm: Renewal for a Mother’s Heart (2005) and Calm in My Chaos: Encouragement for a Mom’s Weary Soul (2001). She is wife to Kevin, and mom to Sara, 11, and Jack, 9-&-3/4. Her passion is encouraging women and the Church, and applying her gifts to eradicating global poverty, as well as local and global AIDS one small step at a time, which she fulfills through her writing and speaking, and her connection with Open Door Clinic.
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