When I was growing up, my grandmothers house had a hallway. No windows, kind of narrow, very, very long as was common with old style ranchers. Of course the requisite pictures of my mother, aunts and cousins were hanging there. The wallpaper was just a teeny bit shiny, and there were several doors, leading to the bedrooms and bathrooms.
All the bedrooms were off this one hallway. We raced though it on Christmas morning to get from the bedroom to the living room to get to our stockings by the fireplace. We would sneak down the hall, past our grandparents bedroom so we could watch tv in the family room. It was a non-room.
I am currently in the hallway of life right now.
We have all heard the phrase, when God closes a door look for a window. As one who is currently feeling like every door and window is being slammed in my face, I am instead trying to figure out how to survive in the hallway.
Transition is not fun. I don’t particularly enjoy trying every door knob in sight, and feel it resist my hand.
We all go through times of transition, when we are waiting on the next season of life to open up. I have a tendency to grab the door and start shaking it, so desperate am I to get out of this place of transition. I am sure that none of you have ever beat upon a closed door begging for God to “make a way where there seems to be no way” (gotta bust out some bible verses. God listens to good theology, right?)
So the question is, what do you DO in the hallway? How do you wait when you are a terrible wait-er?
I am learning to take it one day at a time. And learning a new level of this trust thing. Sometimes I want to resist what I hear Him saying, when he is whispering to my heart, “peace be still”.
I want to think that sweet, quiet voice is the devil trying to stop me.
But it’s not. It’s His voice.
It’s my shepherd.
And he is saying peace, be still. Step back from the raging waters of your own ambition and desires.
Peace, be still.
Lean into the tension between calling and purpose and reality, and let me work through what that means BEFORE I take you through the doorway, because once I open those doors, you will be breathlessly carried away into new lands, and you won’t have the time to focus on your healing then.
So I am trying to lean into His arms, His presence. I know that is probably the biggest lesson of all – that I can’t do this myself.
And that is ok with me.
Are you in a new season of life, or still in the hallway. Tell me about it 🙂