Saying goodbye is complicated. Expected or unexpected, there’s always a sense to say sorry. The belief that an apology masks the hurt, shock, or shame of a decision, spoken thought, or circumstance.
I have said goodbye many times the last few months. To friends. To family. To my Granddad. To my job. To my home. Some of the goodbyes were sweet. Wrapped in grace and affirmation and encouragement. Others were sticky and difficult and confusing.
My husband and I put our life in brown boxes and made our way to our new beginning. But this new beginning wasn’t a clean crisp line drawn from our little apartment in Missouri to our home in Oklahoma. It was jagged and messy and bordered with fear and frustration.
My Granny let go of the love of her life. And as she kissed him goodbye there was a sweet aura of grace and humility and devotion. But their life story isn’t marked by a perfect pathway. There were hills and valleys and trials.
I sat with my family in the funeral home after my Granddad went to Heaven. Oddly, this is a place I frequented with my dad when I was young. And as I sat in the oversized chair listening to arrangements and plans, I couldn’t help but think how life is so beautiful and messy and intricate. That God would plan a sequence of events that would land me in the very chair looking out the very window that framed so many sweet memories of my childhood. And in the midst of circumstances entangled with grief and loss and faith, I could almost tangibly grasp God through the ray of sunshine leaking through the pane. Something to hold onto that confirmed He is God, He is good, and He is good at being God.
Isn’t this what life is all about? Praying, worrying (maybe just me), dreaming, and walking it all out? Embracing fleeing feelings and changing circumstances. Choosing to rise and follow obediently, wholeheartedly with fire and excitement and grit. And how? By pressing into Truth and spreading our gossamer wings glittered with grace.
Our gossamer wings are delicate. The unknown whispers to flee back to where we came from, back to what is familiar. But the very One who breathed us into creation knows how delicate and small and emotional we are. He knows what we need to rise up and fly. And that is why we have His love letters to grasp and hold onto in the twists and turns. These are pages we can run to and remember as we walk out the callings that have been spoken over us.
Simply trusting can feel so complex. Believe me, I am right here. But there is power and grace and clarity when we sit in silence and allow the Truth to wash over us like a cool wave on a sandy beach. How it must break His heart when we look to our circumstances sprinkled with broken people and broken things for validation, confirmation, and affirmation. May we have the audacity to press into Truth and pump our wings. Through the twists and turns, deep corners and dark spaces, there is light and rest and peace.
Even in the middle of a season or circumstance or relationship that is messy and doesn’t make sense, we still have the promises and the company of a God who is good and a God who is good at being God. That hard thing? That loss? That unknown? We have everything we need to rise up and fly. May we press into His presence and unapologetically kiss the labyrinth of fear and hurt and heartache goodbye.
“We must not judge by what we feel or by what we see before us. The Word must be followed and we must firmly hold that these Truths are to be believed, not experienced...for the Word must be believed when we feel and experience what differs entirely from the Word.”