Photo by Gordana Adamovic-Mladenovic
I should know by now that when my life shifts in a way that seems bad, I should prepare myself for something good.
That’s a hard pattern to trust and embrace, though, no matter how many times I’ve seen it take hold in my life. And I’ve seen it many times: When I moved from Michigan to Central Illinois. When I got divorced. When I left my church. When my first post-divorce relationship fell apart. When I lost my biggest freelance client.
In all of those cases, my life changed significantly, for the better. Sometimes the winds of change arrived in short order, like a gust of fresh air. Other times I spent much longer in what felt like a stagnant space of worry, heartache and despair before I felt the breeze of something new. But each time something good has happened.
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about where I was with my work two years ago. That was the summer I suddenly lost my primary client, who was responsible for well over half of my paid writing projects. I loved the work. It paid well and was consistent. And somehow I thought it would just always be there, until the day I got the news that they were planning to hire someone locally, full time. The amount of writing they needed had reached that tipping point, where it made more financial sense to hire someone than to pay freelance rates.
I was devastated. Not only did I really enjoy the work and the people, but Jason and I were about a month away from our wedding and honeymoon to Greece. In other words, we were a month away from a lot of out-of-the-ordinary expenses and debt. (When you get married a second time, you don’t ask your parents to help out.)
There wasn’t much we could do. We managed to cut some costs on the wedding and reception, then we set our financial worries aside and went ahead and fully enjoyed every moment of our honeymoon, as planned. We arrived home to credit card bills and, for me, empty days of almost no client work.
What does God have to do with this?
You might be wondering why this post is categorized under “Belief, doubt and hope.” Essentially, this is a post about trust and faith, and God’s work in my life. If you don’t have that sort of belief in God—if you don’t believe he has a plan or is helping you work through the messes that just happen because we’re human—I realize this concept can seem like a stretch.
Sometimes it feels like a stretch to me, too. At each of those unhappy moments I was filled with doubt that God was there at all, or could possibly bring about anything good. But when it gets down to it, I always circle back to this bottom-of-my-soul belief that something much bigger than I can grasp, full of love and goodness, is working in and through my life.
And I have evidence:
I believe my move to Central Illinois allowed my ex and I to end a marriage that needed to end.
I believe my divorce allowed me to get in touch with who I really am, what I really want, and what I really have to offer to others.
I believe leaving my church allowed me to embrace God and my understanding of him in a completely new, very freeing way.
I believe being in my first post-divorce relationship, and then ending it, allowed me to open up to love again, and helped me sort out what matters most to me in a relationship (which ultimately led me to marry Jason).
And I believe I never would have been able to start writing this blog and my book if that client had continued its demanding freelance contract with me.
Because that’s what I did with those endless work days, two summers ago. I tried to set aside my fears about money and worth and professional success, and write down the stories I needed to write. All those stories were clamoring to get out. No one was necessarily going to pay anything for them, but it didn’t mater. I wrote and wrote and wrote.
Remembering the past as I look ahead
Eventually the client work picked up again, and new clients came along. I continued blogging and working on my book proposal, and was committed to leaving time and space for that, rather than filling up all my work hours with client projects, like I had before.
It’s hard to remember my life without this blog—the creative outlet, the impetus to think and write, the community of readers—just like it’s hard to remember my life without Jason, or my life in Michigan, or that time when God felt so far away.
Right now the freelance work is a bit slow, again, and once again I’m trying not to worry about money or societal measurements of success. Instead, I’m trying to be open to what God might be doing in my life, and what I might be doing with this time I’ve been given. I’m trying to be expectant of that next big gust or gentle breeze of change.
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Resilience. A great quality to have. Endurance is another one.
I may say this every time I post a comment, but very very well done.
I agree in whole with everything you wrote. I would like to add just one thought from experience. I feel like I have had a very gusty last few years with my wife and I both losing jobs and some family issues. In most of those situations I found myself a little in shock when I first found out and then I turned shock to anger in order to motivate myself.
This angry blame game sure got me up in the morning and kept me up at night working on things, but it quickly cycled into a down on myself attitude that led to nothing. In each situation it wasn’t until I said “God, I need to move on. Please help me to do so in a healthy manner” that I was able to positively look at the experience learn from it and then embrace the opportunities that the dude upstairs presented me.
I don’t know if it is a natural cycle (the anger, the forgiveness, the self examination, and finally positive change) or one that I struggle with more than others, but I would just add that for me it always takes a while (a long while) to reflect positively on change. It takes a while, but is indeed worth it.
I look forward to reading your new posts each week. No matter what you are writing about, you find the hope, or the bright side. Thank you for giving that perspective to the world at a time when so many people are struggling to find that hope.
I cannot thank you enough for writing this post. I too am divorced, and my career really fell apart, thank you the economy and I have often wondered what is next and scared it won’t out and yet I have become someone that I really like and I agree,, that in the end it does all happen for a reason. I just love your honesty, thanks for this
You know I dont see the how and why of things through the same lense as you, but interesting to me how many similarities there are in our thinking. This post reminded my of Alexander Graham Bells thoughts paraphrased as – When one door opens, another opens. You are ready for and deserving of the good that is bound to come your way.
Cobalt-Blue, very true—resilience and endurance are very important qualities. Many times though, in the midst of everything, I was positive I didn’t have either one. Now I realize I did, but maybe it just didn’t look like I thought it would.
Patrick, feel free to keep the compliments coming. I promise I won’t find them redundant. :) Your comment is so well-expressed. That anger piece is a big one. Just as you pointed out, anger has the capacity to motivate, but it can also cause us to self-destruct. And you got the cycle just right: “the anger, the forgiveness, the self examination, and finally positive change.” At least that’s how I tend to experience it.
Robin, thanks so much for letting me know what you appreciate about my posts. Sometimes I worry that I’m a big downer—that I spend too much time addressing heavy topics and the many bumps in the road. It’s good to know that I can talk about those things and still, in the end, be perceived as offering hope.
Jessica, I love that in the midst of all these things you would never have chosen for your life, you’ve “become someone that [you] really like.” What’s really wonderful about the process, I’ve found, is that it gradually transforms not just how you feel about yourself, but everything around you, too. The things that seemed so important before suddenly hardly matter at all.
Trina, that is interesting—we seem to be looking through different lenses, but seeing the same view. I wonder what that means? (Thanks, as always, for your great encouragement.)
My kids do this one thing (they each learned it in Mrs. Collin’s kindergarten class).
The stick their hand up about chest height, stick out the pinky, stick out the thumb, tuck the other fingers, and then move their hand back and forth between themselves and another person – alternatively pointing at themselves with their thumb, then at another person with their pinky.
It means something along the lines of “Me, too. I agree with you. We’re on the same page.”
Though the internet, I’m now doing that with you and your writing.
Your words can choke me up, make me gasp, and bring smiles. Good stuff again.
I know all this intuitively and experientially, Kristin, but it is so helpful to hear it again from someone with so much credibility.
So, the adventure today is to figure out what is it God has planned for you during this slow spell. More often than not I wish we lived closer so I could dive deeper into these conversations and explain to you over and over again how much were are at the same place in life.
This post choked me up, too. It made me cry and smile.
This post gives me so much hope, Kristin. Thank you.
oh, silly me.. I came to see the continued conversation, and now see how I messed up my paraphrasing – good grief. I even looked it over before I hit submit, but occasionaly cant see the forest for the trees…
The saying was meant to go ‘When one door CLOSES, another opens’ That would have made more sense in context of what you started and I was trying to support.
Anyhow, as you more clearly stated – interesting about seeing things through a different lense, ending with the same view – just what does that mean? I see two possibilities now, and of course there’d be more.
First I believe it highlights traveling a different ‘path’ and yet journeying to the same ‘end’. What if that could be generally applied to people of different faiths? Wonder how that thinking would impact world thoughts on our sameness/differences. If, at the end of it all we were all in the same place? Does that make sense?
Secondly, people not following a specific faith can still be ‘good’ people. I do get the feeling that some people of faith judge others ‘goodness’ in terms of their faith or lack there of. Of course, I never have that feeling from you, and the way you present your thoughts on faith have opened me up to seeing that not all people of faith are ‘judgemental sheep’ :-) In the past, I would have closed my mind and moved on. That says a lot about you personally – but one compliment in a day is enough haha.
Such a timely post. I fear. I really do. That’s why I actively have to look for those moments when I know God is looking out for us, even if it is bringing about change that appears in the short term to not be all that we would have planned.
Dave, I gave that hand motion a try and I like it. :) I’ll have to make it a thing at our house, I think. Thanks, as always, for the affirmation and the honesty. To smile and choke up all in one sitting is perhaps the best way to live.
jenx67, yes, that is my current adventure, indeed. Today I was able to give myself up to it a bit more than I have the past couple of weeks—it’s because I wrote this post, I think. Writing it became an important act of remembering and acknowledging. (I wish you lived closer, too. Some day we will meet. I promise!)
Cheryl, it sounds kind of obvious to say it, maybe, but hope in the face of difficulty is such a wonderful thing, and such a wonderful way to experience life. It’s much better than just having a so-called perfect life that doesn’t require hope.
Trina, it’s funny, I’ve heard the door closing version before, and I thought you were presenting a different version—an interesting one, at that! It made me think, even if it wasn’t what you meant. :) Anyway, I think you got this exactly right, about “traveling a different ‘path’ and yet journeying to the same ‘end.’” And I’m sorry (but not at all surprised) you feel like others are judging your goodness according to your beliefs. The first step, I think, is for people of faith to realize they’re not “all that,” just by virtue of what they believe. They have to walk the talk first, and stop focusing on the speck in others’ eyes.
TJ, I like what you said about actively looking for those moments when God is looking out for us. I have gradually learned that it’s one thing to realize I’m not in control, and to accept that; it’s another thing to realize I wouldn’t *want* to be in complete control of what happens in my life, even if I could be. So often, what I think I want or need turns out to be a bandaid or frill, rather than anything of substance that brings true change. I do think I have a lot of freedom, and I must make a lot of choices, but to think my life is ultimately in my own hands doesn’t line up with the reality I’ve lived.
I couldn’t agree more. We don’t always know why something “bad” happens in our lives but we can’t let ourselves sink into that hole and not climb back out. We can have our bad days, we can have our pity parties, but eventually, we need to move on. We need to look for the good in our life, even though it may not be obvious in the beginning. Having a daughter with special needs has taught me that, and continues to teach me that every. single. day. God gave us one of his very special angels and I feel so blessed to be entrusted with her.
Debbie, you’re absolutely right: “We can have our bad days, we can have our pity parties, but eventually, we need to move on.” I realize I’ve gotten a lot of comfort from allowing myself to be OK with a less than perfect life. That acceptance helps me not get so bogged down by something “bad” that happens—at least not long-term. I’m really inspired by your outlook and your life! Thanks for sharing some of it here.
Beautiful, Kristin! I want to send this to so many people!