Over the last few months, I’ve been learning the ways in which God is always changing the seasons of our lives. The swift changes that have recently passed through my own life have challenged me and I am coming to recognize the distinct ways in which my life has indeed changed - sometimes gradually and slowly, sometimes very distinct. In the same way God is directing the Earth to move on from the sunny long days of summer to the shorter days of fall, He’s moving my life through its own seasons of dryness, seasons of warmth, seasons of heavy downpour, seasons of brightness and so on. And just as the Earth bears witness to in its own cyclical seasons, each season of our lives presents its own challenges and graces.
This spring I welcomed a new season. As I prepared to graduate, I was overwhelmed with joy and gratitude for what the last four years brought to me - lifelong friendships, experiences and a journey that I would never forget. Everything that I had built up and worked toward was coming to an end but I was at such peace with it. I reflected on my personal growth in those years and I was so proud of who I was becoming. I had finally made a decision for my post-graduate plans and accepted a position with the Jesuit Volunteer Corps (JVC). I felt ready for the adventure that was to come. It was by far the greatest season of celebration in my life yet and I was filled with the type of extreme happiness and slight sadness that comes with a bittersweet ending.
celebrating on graduation day last sunset on the bluff up inspired graduation cap
Then spring turned into summer and my life was changing too. Graduation came and went too quickly and the celebration was over. I left Los Angeles to go home to Orange County for the summer before my big move to Alabama. From the outside, my summer could have looked perfect. I really had some incredible adventures and memories but I was essentially hiding beneath all of it - trying to fill a void deep within me. The truth is that one of the happiest seasons of my life, without warning, had turned into a season of darkness. The good days of my summer became overwhelmed with intense feelings of pain and emptiness.
snapshots of my summer
the view of oahu from the clouds lewis and i at disney iorld! picnics on the beach
May marked the anniversary of my Lupus diagnosis and for the last two years I have lived through a multitude of highs and lows. A flare is a period where most illness symptoms are intensely present at the same time and can be sudden or gradual, lasting varying amounts of time and this summer I experienced the worst flare, the lowest low, that I have ever been through, lasting almost three months.This flare came out of nowhere after feeling fatigued for a few months before graduation and just like that, I was suddenly bedridden. It was almost like the weight and stress of the last four years had crashed down onto me.
I spent the summer really struggling. This was pain I had never felt before and I have trouble putting into words how I felt. Some days I could barely walk or lift myself out of bed. Some days, I couldn't drive my car. I remember countless days starting and ending with tears - of not only pain but also frustration. I ended up having to take several days off of my summer job, cut down on my hours and give up exercise completely. My doctor put me on chemotherapy hoping for some relief, but it brought its own challenges of stomach pain and constant fatigue. I would sleep for hours and still struggle to keep my eyes open. I think the worst part about it all was the loneliness that came with it. I felt completely isolated from my own life, almost as though I was unable to live it. I’ve always tried to overcome the trials of living with chronic illness with grace and positivity but I felt completely defeated. I feared having to drop out of JVC and felt anxious and depressed about everything. There was a constant voice inside my head telling me, “you won’t overcome this”.
In these personal moments of desolation, I realized that despite my own feelings of hopelessness, I needed to find the moments of inspiration and hope in the quiet everyday life unfolding right before me - standing next to two good friends as they vow to love each other for the rest of their lives, breakfast in bed, skipping rocks in the Colorado river, summer fruit, the cool breeze of a California summer, time with family - the joyful moments.
joyful moments
praying for my friend emily before her big day peaceful nights ocean hammock views
Once I focused on seeking God in the light of each day, no matter how few or far between it may have been, I started to see Him within the darkness too. The struggle I faced often felt overpowering and at times it was all I could set my mind on. But when I took a step back and looked beyond the hurting and the pain, I started to see gratitude for the beauty my life really is. I wasn’t simply stuck in a undefeatable situation - I was alive. I had to slowly pull through the downpour to be able to move beyond it, to see a rainbow in the midst of the clouds in a stormy season, and to keep living the beautiful life that was always right there waiting for me. I discovered God was there with me, walking right along my side and cheering me on.
One of my absolute favorite quotes from Shauna Niequist spoke loudly to me during that season,
“Celebration when your plan is working? Anyone can do that. But when you realize that the story of your life could be told a thousand different ways, that you could tell it over and over as a tragedy, but you choose to call it an epic, that's when you start to learn what celebration is. When what you see in front of you is so far outside of what you dreamed, but you have the belief, the boldness, the courage to call it beautiful instead of calling it wrong, that's celebration.”
My season wasn’t one of tragedy, sadness and turmoil. I could choose to see it lifting out of the dirt, the darkness and I can choose to move celebration beyond the happiest time of my life and into the sorrow-filled moments. I can bring that joy of celebration into every season of life I face. Our seasons will always change - but God never does. He is constantly within us, rooting for us through the times of abundant happiness and the times of overwhelming sorrow. He believes in celebrating with us either way. He believes in taking the brokenness and emptiness that you feel and conquering it into gratitude.
“In all these things, we are more than conquerers through Him who loved us” Romans 8:37
In each season, in any time, in any way - God helps us overcome, helps us conquer and celebrates life with us. He keeps us going, keeps us fighting, keeps us smiling, laughing and living.
As I now enter a new season - a season of transition, I’m trying to wrap myself in that promise. I’ve been in Mobile for a month now and I’m feeling much healthier. This place is filled with kindness, beauty and opportunity. I have felt almost lost in it, not knowing what to do with myself at times. I miss my friends, my family, my boyfriend, LMU and the pacific ocean, I miss many things. My heart has been aching for home. I have been praying to feel something, something to make me feel the heartache less, to show this season of transition has its end. I opened my mail last week to a beautiful card made by a mentor and an even greater friend.
@thesunshinecollective
It read, “Where we love is home, home that our feet may leave, but not our heart."
Maybe Mobile didn't feel like home because I hadn’t opened my heart to it, I hadn’t let myself love it.
me and my community mates entering AL my new southern home downtown mobile
A few days later, my prayers were answered in Elmore, a core member at L’Arche (my JVC placement) with an overwhelmingly huge heart. Each week, the L’Arche members come together for a prayer service where they pray out loud for whomever and whatever they feel called to. Right before his turn, Elmore turned to me, asked my name, and then continued to pray out loud for me.
me and elmore at the L'Arche activity center
A sacred act of love from an almost stranger filled my heart. In that place of prayer, I started to think about my new community mates, those who welcomed me here, my co-workers, the core members at L'Arche - all wanting to love me, accompany me, and make Mobile home in this season and the seasons to come along the journey. The faces of God in my everyday life.
In the midst of this changing season and all of those to come, I know God is here with me. I'm starting to see Him now in places I never imagined I would. He is waiting for me to conquer this season of transition, the next season that will inevitably come, and everything in between. God is hoping for us all to live this day and each one after in celebration for the beauty in each step of our story. Let us all remember to always dance in the sunshine and the rain.
