Do you ever wake up and feel vaguely and yet distinctly overwhelmed? Vaguely because you can’t quite put your finger on what exactly it is that has you feeling as though a weight the size of a small elephant has somehow landed on your chest, distinctly because while you might not know the precise cause you do know that it is a very true, very real thing.
Sometimes it’s more vague than distinct, this feeling of being overwhelmed. I feel it most keenly when something is changing.
When the seasons change we’re living in the tension of something ending and another thing beginning, you can see it with summer sliding into fall — the green and warmth barely clinging, the leaves beginning to turn, the air dipping colder. It’s the same with life. Seasons always come, change always happens, and sometimes it’s rather beautiful. But, if you’re like me, the whole process of it all is a serious growing experience.
I’m getting married soon (eek! :D). I feel the change more distinctly than vaguely this time. My whole life will change forever when I say “I do.” I’m living in the tension of that now, all at once grinning and excited while having the understanding that nothing is ever going to be the same. I’m living in the strange place between two seasons.
I don’t know where you’re at, what you’re struggling with, what you’re rejoicing about, whether you feel on top of the world, or if you feel like sinking into it . . . but recently, I’ve realized something about Jesus.
He exists outside the seasons. He holds them, crafts them, and tells the earth when it’s time to turn. If there is anywhere safe to run, if there is anywhere for constant peace to be found, it has to be with Him. This man who is good and constant. This God who breathes new life and extends grace. This Jesus who seeks the lost.
That’s pretty cool, if you ask me.
Written by Brianna Diaz