Life Without Mother

Dear Friend,

Quite the time since I last wrote. And perhaps this is as good a time as any to discuss another complexity of grief: any (literally any) transition.

So what happened? Why the long silence? Well, I moved.

After almost five years living in the city of my childhood dreams, I chose to move back to the south — to be closer to parents, brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews — to take a bit of breath in open air. (And believe me, here in north Texas, all it seems I have is open air — when it’s not crazy dusty, that is.)

I said “goodbye” to the place and people who have been my home for some of the most difficult and healing of my life yet. As I described even in my last letter, there have been countless days of darkness (not to mention nights) and even more of light. Years of prayer and intentionality built a home and family in the immensity that is New York City. But, I will write more about that another time.

Today, I discuss transition. Because, WOW. No matter how many times, it still gets me. Moving states, moving cities, moving homes, changing jobs, simply changing my weekly schedule. It’s like one thing changes and my entire being wants to just shut down. Coast and cope.

To be honest, I did not handle this transition well. I’m grateful for God’s grace in it — that I have countless sweet memories from the last four months (since I’d made the official decision to move) and wonderful mementos that my NYC family gave me to remember those years. The Lord has been merciful in spite of my unhealthy coping, and in spite of my best efforts, motivated me with the abundant support of my NYC and Texas family to actually pack and not self-sabotage my own decision to move. (Did the packing happen the very last week? Yes, it did. But did it happen? Yes, it did.)

Does the numbing — or perhaps the procrastination — or even maybe the subconscious attempts at self-sabotage — relate?

I think of the passage from 2 Corinthians when Paul describes his vision and the thorn he experiences. Now, may I freely admit that my weakness of unhealthy coping is not what I celebrate — no, that is my own sin I repent of and must live in obedience to His Spirit not to repeat. However, I do readily boast in His power that is made perfect even in my weakness of dealing with transition.

This is the thing, struggling to deal with transition itself is not wrong. As Paul himself asserts — that “when he is weak, he is strong” — he refers to what he said before about boasting in his weaknesses, in order that “Christ’s power may rest on me.” When I lean upon the Father’s sovereignty, Christ’s salvation, and the Spirit’s sanctification, I can (and am empowered to) trust in the face of the unknown (aka transition) that each moment He will sustain and guide me.¹

Simple enough, right? So obviously true. And yet, how often I struggle! I want to just numb, not dwell on what is changing or the strong emotions I feel in response to it. Especially when grief pops out to join the emotion party (every time!) despite, on the surface, not having anything to do with the current transition.

This unhealthy response to the mere existence of strong emotions is where I turn from Christ’s power to my own — aka, nothing. Because I don’t have power. I have weakness. Thus, no wonder that in my own “strength” I fail so miserably. AND YET. God works all things (even my own sin) for my good (His glory).² This is why I can look back at the past four months specifically and not be ashamed. Rather, I can grow and move forward. Acknowledge what I must do moving forward: be strong in the Lord and on guard against the schemes of the devil!³

To further both encourage you, friend, and remind myself of the goodness and graciousness of our God, may we remember His tangible example of how He “hems us in behind and before, and lays His hand upon us”:⁴

Then the cloud covered the tent of meeting, and the glory of the LORD filled the tabernacle. Moses could not enter the tent of meeting because the cloud had settled on it, and the glory of the LORD filled the tabernacle.

In all the travels of the Israelites, whenever the cloud lifted from above the tabernacle, they would set out; but if the cloud did not lift, they did not set out — until the day it lifted. So the cloud of the LORD was over the tabernacle by day, and fire was in the cloud by night, in the sight of all the Israelites during all their travels.

Exodus 40:34-38

Dear friend, I hope this encourages you as it does me. Especially as I remember that in Christ, I am His temple where He chooses to dwell until He brings me Home to His eternal presence. His Spirit guides my steps and lights my path, never leaving my side for a moment!

A Sojourner in the Spirit,
Hannah

1. 2 Corinthians 12:1-10 ↩︎
2. Romans 8:28; see my post “For the Good” for a deeper analysis of that verse. ↩︎
3. Ephesians 6:10-11 ↩︎
4. Psalm 139:5 ↩︎