SEASONS OF THE JOURNEY
SO many seasons in 60+ years. I was introduced to Jesus as a 10-year-old, and received this truth with joy. Somehow, the Lord has kept me close to himself through many “dangers, toils, and snares,” as we sing in “Just As I Am.”
What was unique about each one? That little girl up there with the white eyelet swimsuit? She was just learning that Jesus loved her, called her, and had a plan for her life. She was learning Bible stories and memorizing verses. She was learning right from wrong.
That young teenager with the Dorothy Hamill haircut was feeling unsure of herself, wanting to come out of her shell, wanting to tell people about Jesus at her high school. She was gaining a reputation as a good girl, and she thought that pleased God. She was ready for whatever adventure he would send her on for him.
Her college years were the ones where she fell away from the nearness of Jesus, trying to figure out if she was following him because it made her parents happy or if she really wanted this for herself. She was forging her own walk with him, but she was serving two masters during those years.
Jesus let heartbreak come to twenty-two year old Kellee, and brought her fully up to his face, where she couldn’t look away. There the bond was forged and the course set. She was devouring the word of God, praying constantly, seeking fellowship with the like-minded, taking leaps of faith. Humility and a teachable spirit marked this season.
Soon her life partner came into the picture, a man with a heart for God who loved her well. They were a great team! In this season, excitement was all around and the sense that God was smiling on them felt real.
Then came a season of exhaustion. Baby after baby came along, and time with Jesus became difficult. For years, I struggled to have devotions for even 5 minutes per day, and many weeks usually went by with little prayer, no scripture. Just church on Sundays and my husband’s words of encouragement. About the only time I read the Bible was when I was reading it to my children. I felt like a total failure when it came to communion with the Lord. I just did not make it a priority and let my family life, church activity, and busyness rule each day. The results were not pretty: ironically, I became self-righteous, proud, and leaned into “old manna,” things I had learned in the past, but nothing new and fresh. I was able to pray at moments during each day, but the reading and study of scripture almost completely evaporated. I would say this season lasted for about ten years, I am ashamed to say.
The next season arrived when we moved to a new town and new church. I was freshly challenged by the change and began meeting with some ladies for prayer. More concerted Bible study followed, and I became more engaged with truly communing with Jesus. Other new challenges came along, but I felt more able to meet these head on because I wasn’t toiling alone. My kids were growing up, and there were new opportunities to lean into the Lord. But I also let myself become way too busy “serving the Lord.” At the time felt like it was a good thing, even though it was way off balance. I began to deeply examine my motivations.
Around the time I turned 40, life really got wild. The events of September 11th came right on the heels of my 40th birthday, my husband was suffering some depression, one of my children was really struggling, and we were on the cusp of sending our first child off to college. We started a business during this time as well. What I truly remember about that season was how much I needed God to meet us in every situation. I felt more desperate for time with him, and for him to act than ever before. In hindsight, I think my motivations were in check, and I was more careful about what I said “yes” to. I began to really journal in earnest, and practice “active listening” when I was praying and reading scripture.
The beautiful expression of faith and answered prayer marked my life in my late 40s and 50s. I saw so many prayers come to fruition, things I had been bringing before the Lord for years, decades even. The glorious restoration of one of my children. Reconciliation with an extended family member. Rescue from financial ruin. Each of my children finding their life mates. Healing in little hidden places in my marriage.
Now in my sixties, I’ve let my hair go gray and am in a bit of a new place. For the past several years, I have turned my heart toward a more contemplative walk with the Lord. I’ve been in a rhythm of a daily devotional based on the Lectio Divina that requires 10 minutes every morning of stillness. The death of my baby grandson, George, accelerated this change. My eyes have turned more heavenward. Things are starting to quiet down in this autumn of life. The house is often very still, and yet I crave quiet times still more. I am comfortable being alone. I am in the middle of a book called, An Invitation to Solitude and Silence, by Ruth Barton, as if I needed any instruction. My husband and I just returned from a 3-day private and silent retreat, where we didn’t talk to other humans much and just holed up alone and quiet. The idea was to like the author says, “let the swirling river water of our lives settle” and make room for God to speak. I am reading scripture daily with fresh eyes, and it is amazing how new it is every morning.
But at the same time, the Lord is still moving in us and through us. I still see many years ahead of spending time with my many grandchildren, sowing into their lives. We are trusting God to guide us on a fresh adventure that we are taking one step at a time towards. We are adding new people into our lives to share what we’ve learned, and enjoy these new relationships.
So, may we go from glory to glory! God is still using us and walking with us through this earthly life, towards the ultimate glory when we will see him face to face.