Today I am reminded of my son's words from long ago.
"I don't like how this feels."
His comment came in the midst of moments that appeared reason for celebration. My husband had arrived home early from work. He had even offered to prepare dinner while the kids and I relaxed in the living room. What could make him feel uncomfortable with that scenario?
The routine had been altered. My son found comfort in routine. Despite the thrill of having his dad home early, his internal comfort meter had been interrupted. Over the years, he has learned to process and sit with the friction of fear and hope churning inside.
Now it's my turn. "I don't like how this feels.
Today my youngest started his sophomore year of high school. My oldest son will be transferring to a college out of state in a few weeks. My daughter will begin culinary school after six years of homeschooling at our dining room table. Last spring, I felt almost euphoric at the possibilities that lie ahead in a new season of life.
Today, I don't like how this feels.
To everyone else, this appears to be a defining moment in my life. That's probably true. But it feels uncomfortable. Daunting. My days have always been ordered by "mom" routines. Opportunities to pursue my passions were limited. So I saw them from far away and lived with the acknowledgement that one day there would be more time to explore. That time is now. And today I sit with both fear and hope. But maybe I can learn a thing or two from my son about overcoming discomfort.
To those of us who find our current transition uncomfortable, I offer this. Let's ask God to help us embrace this new season. God is giving us new names knowing that there are new places for our feet to tread, new friends to meet, and new interests that will be revealed.
God knows we don't like how this feels. But thankfully, we are loved enough to be stretched in spite of it.