Life as Pulpit — When Life Starts to Come Back Together
I have a confession: this title may be a bit deceiving. Although there are aspects of life that feel like they are finding a place, I have so far to go. Sometimes the mountains in front of me and behind me and all around me leave me no other option except to settle into the valley.
As I reflect on the last few years and begin to write again, it seems fitting to reflect and share in a more direct fashion since I posted a bit about my life falling apart in April 2020. Perhaps some of the places and people and moments and thoughts that I’ve shared about more recently make more sense in the context of the simple part they play in glimpses or hope, restoration, redemption, joy, and peace.
The unplanned circumstances of life may sometimes leave us living in a fog, barely able to see the next step.
The last several years have been painful and unexpected. I left a position that represented my life’s work and much of my identity. My marriage unraveled. I found it more safe to hide than to play offense or defense in light of swirling half truths, lies, and exaggerations. I moved out. I got divorced. I’ve lost friends. I’ve felt isolated and alone. I’ve struggled financially. I’ve watched more Netflix than I care to divulge. I’ve gained weight. I’ve lost weight. I’ve been misunderstood. I’ve struggled with questions without answers. I’ve wailed. I’ve pleaded to God for a lifeline and to rescue me. Setback after setback after setback. The list could go on. And on. And on.
Being surrounded by insurmountable mountains has forced me to find my temporary home in the valley and to celebrate every glimpse of sunlight that I see. I’ve learned new coping mechanisms. I’ve found friends. I’ve danced. I’ve laughed. I’ve sang. I’ve held my children tight and played with them and made beautiful memories.
I’ve embraced stillness and I am:
Still in awe of the mystery of God.
Still being spiritually formed.
Still insecure and imperfect.
Still pursuing a doctorate.
Still driven and strong.
Still loving my babies.
Still making mistakes.
Still passionate.
Still learning.
Still me.
I sense that there is a journey of rescue unfolding over time, inviting me to leave all that was behind and live in something completely new. New dreams. New relationships. New skills. New joy. New humility. New peace. New hope. New purpose. New perspectives. New adventures.
I’ve found healing and hope smack dab in the middle of the story . . . in silence, in poverty, in celebrating the dreams of others, at sporting events, through trying to find my voice again, through music. Purpose and peace are becoming my reality in my little cottage, through reconstruction, through loneliness, at karaoke night, while drinking blackberry smashes, at sleepovers, through reigniting friendships from the past, and in everyday conversations. (Stories yet to be told!)
My dreams and my heart matter, and I CAN. Your dreams and your heart matter, and YOU CAN.
We can live with peace in the valley AND we can climb the mountain.
A transformed trajectory is on the horizon, and I am here for it. I hope you’ll join me. The best is yet to come for you too — and I am here to cheer you on.
-Tam xoxo
Thank you for subscribing!
Watch on YouTube:
