Life Moments: Finding My Rhythm

I sat in the swing on the shaded patio, enjoying the breeze and early morning bird songs. I have a wonderful life. My mind wandered back over the last five years. That thought about my wonderful life was a hard-earned sentiment.

I had wondered if I would ever get here.

Oh, don’t take me wrong. I was living life. Friends. Family. And before the virus…travel. And yes, my brother had recently passed away. But the “wonderful” in my life I was referring to was so much deeper than those things.

My beloved moved to heaven five years ago. At the time, I was numb, moving through my days like a robot. Half of me was missing. I was no longer the same person. But who was I? As the weeks and months passed, my mind began to partially function again.

I knew I needed to find a purpose for my days.

My second year the frozen parts of me began to thaw. That brought pain. Such pain. Yet, I knew I must go on. As a Christ-follower, I turned to Him without ceasing. Please show me the way.

I was very aware that everyone’s grief journey is different. I read many books describing others’ journeys. There were no rules. It was necessary for me to travel this path at my own speed. Each step of the way, I felt God’s love holding me up.

I began to write.

It was during year three I felt God speaking to me. First through the words in a book. It spoke of a thousand slender threads coming together, strands of who I’ve been and who I’m becoming. That’s where I was. As the days passed, I began to feel writing was my purpose…my ministry.

So, over the next two years I published two books. But they were words I had already blogged. There wasn’t much thinking involved in placing them in order and printing. The third book was sent to the publisher, but once again they were words already written.

Book four was going to be written from scratch.

I was unprepared for how hard that would be. I didn’t know how to start. The jumble of words in my head were just that…a jumble of words. Normally, I don’t procrastinate. Normally, I find time in my day for what matters to me. Normally, I feel I’ve accomplished what I set out to do. In every other area of my life that was still true.

Book four was still a pile of papers and binders, items to help trigger thoughts and even some notes in my husband’s handwriting. The book was about him…his cancer journey. My aspiration for my words was that others would see how God had traveled that journey with us.

It was overwhelming.

Here’s where the Coronavirus comes in. It was a pattern interrupt. My daily routine got changed. Which made me stop and consider my priorities. As an organized person, I like to have a slot for everything. So, I tried a new routine.

Didn’t work. Still no writing.

As the weeks of isolation continued, so did the changes in my routine. Days were becoming smoother. The peripheral activities had fallen away. The marginal pursuits were replaced with meaningful endeavors. My focus was no longer scattered.

I’m making it sound like I’m about to write an epic manuscript. That’s not what this is about.

I have discovered a life rhythm that works for me in my new normal. It’s like the radio is finally on the station. (That dates me doesn’t it?) God is still in control. My inner peace has remained. I have continued to sleep soundly every night. But as I move through this passage in time, my days have achieved balance.