Intimately Worded with Michelle

Tag: WhatGoddoes

  • Sacred Spaces

    Making Room for What’s Next

    Blackberries, Summer, Better.

    I didn’t do anything I planned to do today.

    There. I said it.

    I had plans. Things I wanted to accomplish. Things I thought I should get done before Sunday ended. Instead, I did some notes. I went to church. I took my daughter to the mall. And somewhere in the middle of all of that, I took a Sunday nap. A good one.

    And when I woke up, I realized something: today was gentle.

    Nothing was wrong. Nothing was behind. Nothing needed to be rescued. It was simply a gentle day.

    And perhaps I needed one.

    I have been thinking a lot about the things I’m releasing lately. The commitments that no longer feel aligned. The expectations I’ve outgrown. The things I once thought I needed to carry simply because I had been carrying them for so long.

    There is something strange about releasing things that aren’t necessarily bad. Sometimes a thing doesn’t have to hurt you for you to let it go. Sometimes it has simply completed its assignment.

    A season ends. A responsibility runs its course. A relationship reveals what it was meant to reveal. A dream changes shape. A version of you that worked beautifully in one season no longer fits the woman you’re becoming in the next.

    And I am learning not to argue with that.

    I’m learning that making room for what’s next isn’t always about adding something new. Sometimes it begins with clearing the room.

    I’ve been doing a lot of “all the things” lately. Work. Writing. Building. Creating. Planning. Recording. Dreaming. Making decisions. Reconsidering decisions. Imagining what my life can look like from here.

    There is excitement in it. But there is also a responsibility that comes with creating a new space: I have to decide what gets to come with me.

    Everything cannot.

    Everyone cannot.

    Every commitment cannot.

    Every old expectation cannot.

    And perhaps most importantly, every version of me cannot.

    Some things belong to the woman I was. Some belong to the woman I am. And some things are making their way toward the woman I am becoming.

    I don’t want to rush that woman.

    I don’t want to fill every empty space simply because an empty space makes me uncomfortable. I don’t want to mistake stillness for stagnation. Or rest for laziness. Or a pause for failure.

    Today reminded me of that.

    I had things to do. Instead, I had church. I had my daughter. I had an ordinary afternoon. I had a nap. I had a gentle Sunday.

    And maybe that was enough.

    Maybe there are seasons when the most productive thing we can do is stop trying so hard to produce. Maybe sometimes God is doing some of His deepest work in the spaces where we aren’t doing anything at all.

    So tonight, I’m thinking less about what I didn’t accomplish and more about what I’m making room for.

    More peace. More intention. More creativity. More meaningful relationships. More rest. More space to hear myself think. More courage to say no without writing an entire dissertation about why. More willingness to let something end without needing to turn the ending into a tragedy. More trust that I don’t have to know exactly what’s coming to make room for it.

    I think that’s where I am.

    Not starting over. Not reinventing myself. Just clearing some space.

    Releasing what has run its course. Being honest about what no longer belongs. And becoming increasingly protective of the space I’m creating.

    Because I have a feeling something beautiful is going to need room.

    And this time, I don’t want to be so busy filling the space that I miss what is trying to enter it.

    So tonight, I am not disappointed about the things I didn’t get done. (Even forgetting to publish.)

    I’m grateful for the gentle day.

    Maybe it wasn’t a detour from what I needed.

    Maybe it was what I needed.

    And maybe making room for what’s next begins exactly here: with allowing today to be enough.

    Being brave, M.

    ©️Intimately Worded, Michelle.

  • Carry Hope, this Counselor’s heart

     

    journey-pic  It is never easy being vulnerable nor is it ever so easy being the strongest. What I am learning is that life gets better when we share. When we open up, expose our hearts, share our pitfalls, and express our hopes and dreams, our lives become bigger. No longer are we alone, separate, on our own.

    I am learning with confidentiality comes responsibility. At the beginning of my education in counseling, I thought confidentiality was a burden…a required stressor for client relationships. As Counselors we cannot share any client cases not even with our spouse. I would find this most difficult whenever my he finds me. Yet, as I grow, as I try to understand the complexities of the heart, our minds and the human spirit I am not alone in carrying or solving another’s problems. It is their story, I am blessed to hear it, to listen in…what a grand opportunity to be present for another.

    Our heart’s ache with so much. Love for family, for our spouse, our friends, partners, for all we are connected to and things will get heavy, very heavy. Carry Hope. Hope is essential. Faith is a required necessity. The two enable us to pick up shattered pieces, to gain a God perspective in all matters of the heart. In addition, it is free…listening with care is priceless. Seeing a person’s heart is one of the greatest values, a treasure. God will do the rest. Carry Hope and be gracious in giving it away.

    Yesterday, I listened as this woman described how her 19-year-old son has schizophrenia. How over the years he has tried to cope with the voices in his head…how loud music does not drown them out, how the medicine does not drown them out. Yet, he knows the difference in what the voices tell him…he knows which are spiritual and which ones are not. I listened as she says she has never been dismissive when he speaks to her, warns her about things. I listen, as she has become his champion, his advocate. How she works to make sure the members of the police department know him, their family for his safety. How the Church members know him, he sits in the foyer (his choice) away from everyone and he listens to the sermon, the music. How she says he looks normal and he is her son. There is no tiredness in her voice, no weariness. She smiles. She speaks of love, her son, her husband, their community. I see her heart. I am proud of her, her son, her family, her community. She “fights” for everyone. #VillageLove

    My Autumn  told me she saw me as a forgiving person, very forgiving. I asked does that make me a wuss, a pushover. She responded: “It means you forgive, Mother. That is it. Stop adding stuff.” I laughed. What a great characteristic to see in a person. She is right; I tend to add more than the necessary to any situation. Forgiving frees you up. It requires a lot to forgive but even if the process is slow, we are gaining more of ourselves each time we forgive. Do not let what others perceive of you dictate the kind of heart you have. Let your heart show. Let it beat, break, heal and love some more. Continue to guard it, though guard it with love not barbwire.

    “Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.” Proverbs 4: 23 (NIV)

    Inevitably, the God-stuff happens. My heart is most happy when I can witness the miracles God works daily through our lives, nature, in our friendships, with family relations, in business ventures and once in a lifetime encounters. It was not until I went to bed last night that I realized that I was among a group of women that counsel, that are Believers, wonderful individuals and we all want the same thing. This path is so different from what I imagined. I am so grateful for my experiences; even the difficult ones for each equip me to journey on.

    Again, carry hope…your definition of success is soon to follow.

    Intimately worded,

    A. Michelle!

    © 2017 Michelle Tillman All rights reserved