The In-Between

The following was originally written in July, 2018.

July 4th is my favorite holiday, mostly because it includes fireworks and precedes my birthday. This year I celebrated with a few close friends in Greensboro and met up with my family for a pre-birthday celebration of tacos and homemade ice-cream cake (thanks mom!). I caught fireworks on the late drive home and woke up to more friends ready for an adventure to the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains.

It’s unbelievable how such wonderful things can be tainted by a weary heart.

Birthdays measure time, one year after another, naturally sending us into the past to identify what time has produced. Twenty-three is not one I wish to re-live, with the exception of changing impossibly changeable things. There were days I had to look at myself in the mirror and let the sound of my voice convince my heart and mind that I could get up again; “living” written on my wrist to remind me that I was; tears gathered before my eyes like the hesitant coming of an ocean tide; my chest, heavy like led.

Let it be known, the year was brimful of beautiful moments. Yet when I sat still, very little seemed right.

One January evening, I had just finished exploring the neighborhood park beneath the shield of a glimmering night sky. As usual, long walks and laughter meant time spent with my dear roommate and friend. Life had recently returned to the comfort of ordinary. One phone call later and things were spinning again; news of an old friend's unexpected death escorted comfort back out the door before it had the chance to remove its coat.

Every night leading up to the funeral I placed myself with those who had known her much better than I. As we came together, laughter danced through the air to the melody of good memories, yet with every break in speech, reality prolonged the silence.

Reality. What to do with it? Especially and specifically in light of God.

Some people are devoured by their circumstances allowing hopelessness to define their everyday. Others deny reality, slap some scripture on it and declare everything is good. I desire the middle ground where I can face life for what it is, bringing myself honestly and wholly (emotions included) before the Lord, yet at the end of the day having peace independent of understanding (Phil 4:7) because if it’s not good, it’s not over (Romans 8:28).

I call this part of life “the in-between.” I’m in-between old dreams and new ones, unsure of where the old ones wandered off to and when and in what form they or maybe new ones will find me again. It’s a period of waiting, trusting, and discovering things about myself, who God is and how that applies to my life and my being.

To me, this looks like writing down five beautiful moments from the day each night before bed, going to counseling, taking more days off, joining a Bible Study, reading books, letting go of control, praying, going on walks, taking trips to see friends, consciously refusing to accept anxiety as a forever part of me, making pancakes, hiking, etc. etc.

All in effort to live present because even when waiting you still have to breathe. The longer you hold your breath the more energy and focus it requires to keep it all in, reducing your ability to admire the good already around you.

One day, and then another. I don’t know the end, but I know that life is a good thing, even if it doesn’t turn out the way you thought it would.