Sustaining Rhythms
What a time. I feel as though we have been through the ringer over and over and over again. I would say that I am willing to throw in the towel, and maybe a few weeks ago I really would have been about to, but I have this strange peace. It’s a peace that can only come from the Lord.
This is a feeling that I miss and have not had for a few years. The feeling of “still” in the storm.
I used to have rhythm. Not the music kind (trust me), but the rhythms that sustained my soul and gave me the capacity and ability for peace. I would wake up early, spend uninterrupted time with the Lord, read the Word, journal, do yoga, and go for a run while conversing with my Father in Heaven. ALL before 9am. I would make a batch of granola for the family every few days, had a sourdough starter at all times, brewed kombucha, and hosted small groups and friend gatherings. It seemed as though everything was as it should be, as it was designed.
Now I wake up groggy, stick a frozen waffle in the microwave for a screaming, mostly naked, toddler; half heartedly brew a cup of tea, eat my store bought granola as I am preparing breakfast for the big girls, pack lunches while breaking up bickering children, take my copious amounts of supplements and prescription medication, and run out to the catch the bus with a toddler on my hip and a 9 year old with un-brushed hair and untied shoes.
And this is a CLEAN face.
Where did those rhythms go and why can’t I seem to get them back?
I have been agonizing over this for over a year now.
Who am I?
What am I doing with my life?
Where did that Erin go? The one that had her life figured out.
I have been mourning the loss of a life that was and a life that I thought I would have. The loss of my health, the loss of Ukraine, the loss of my friends, the loss of my community, the loss of house and home, the list goes on.
Mourning is HARD, And it’s not a fun process.
Due to a collective mourning, my family decided to attend a formal, whole family, debriefing program in Colorado. We spent 6 days there and 8 days in transit (yep, we drove from Oregon to Colorado and it was AMAZING!) and now that we have returned and had time to sit with the experience, I can tell you that I am a different person because of it.
Our group of ragtag missionaries, fresh(ish) off the field, was lead by a couple that radiated love, understanding, and compassion. We spent just less than a week journeying together, sharing stories, and hearing more “me too”s than we had heard in the past year and a half. What a bunch we were. The burliest of men were filled to the brim with tears and the hardest of us softened to share and hear. We walked through many topics of reintegration, but my favorite day of all was the day that we learned about and practiced soul care.
On that day, they instructed us to do whatever we needed to care for our souls. So, me being me, I went for a hike.
And there he was. God Almighty met me there. In my anger, in my pain, in my mourning, in my fear. He met me. And he filled my soul to the brim with his presence, his truth, and his promises. He led me on a windy path that had 90 degree curves all the way through. It was there that he reiterated his promises to keep me safe and to provide. “You don’t know what’s beyond that curve, just like you don’t know what’s in your future. But I do and it is for your good.”
He knew exactly what I needed. He didn’t make my MS go away, He didn’t restore Ukraine and stop the war, He didn’t reunite me with all of my friends, He didn’t take away the chaos.
But he gave me peace.
In that peace, Steven and I were able to follow His lead and make life changing decisions. We still don’t know what is to come, but we know that He will be with us.
Since then, I have come to understand that the rhythms that I need are attainable, even in my chaos. Sure, they don’t look the same. They have changed and adapted to fit the busy mom of three, but they are sustaining nonetheless.
And that is all I need.
