Monday, May 30, 2016

this tension

With heart pounding my fingers reached for the door. The excitement and nerves were rolling over one another, both fighting for dominance. As I walked into the room where we would be gathering and discussing and praying together I felt the familiar sting of hot tears. Always tears. No use fighting them, they leak and spill as they will. That night they were the overflow of a refreshed soul, a desire that had been unknowingly starved was finding nourishment and space to breathe again.

Each month during those Propel meetings I found myself enveloped and safe, surrounded by encouragement, love and understanding. I gleaned and absorbed as much leadership wisdom as I could, and as water being squeezed from a sponge I released all that I was learning into the daily routines at work and life.

With an increased confidence I am now less apologetic. My footing is more sure as I navigate people and conflict and problem solving. 

This season has been hard and beautiful and stretching and painful. A cocoon of sorts. I've gained knowledge and strength and allowed myself to dream those scary big dreams. Yet a cocoon was never meant to be a final stop. So, what once felt safe and comforting is beginning to suffocate and feel too tight. And I'm learning to appreciate the beauty that lives in the tension of what will be and what is right now.

I'm learning to listen and wait patiently for release. I'm learning to celebrate when others are finding their desires fulfilled while my hope is still being deferred. It's a battle of staying fully present while looking ahead with expectancy. In Simply Tuesday Emily P. Freeman refers to this tension as the multicolored life. We can be full of deep sorrow, yet still laugh at great memories at a funeral. We can be filled with such love and excitement at a graduation, yet shed tears of sadness that come with change. 

I'm struggling to stay content with the here and now while taking steps of faith towards the future, my passions. These active steps are moving me towards deep rooted desires becoming reality, yet it is still my responsibility to build into the people and work that have been placed in my hards right now. As Emily describes, I'm living with the Thank God as well as the Please God. 

This tension is refining. And although it's not something I would choose to walk through I'm finding myself relating with Paul and learning what it means to be content in all situations.

How do you handle the tension of what will be and what is?