2012 feels like a great fight scene in an action film: Suspenseful anticipation followed by super-fast, ridiculously impossible athletic feats that defy the laws of physics and the street.
And just when you think you know what to expect, slow motion kicks in and everything ramps up. You watch transfixed and excited, rooting for whoever has the sauciest roundhouse and most unexpected between-blow responses.
This year sped past like a whirlwind. Now it’s slowing down, transitioning into 2013 and the next steps are not only critical, but hard to see.
For the depth of experience and height of growth that can only come with that unrelenting pace, I’m thankful.
For the dizzying days and fleeting memories attached to it, I’m reminded: Life goes by so fast.
When you’ve reached one speed and mastered one terrain, a new speed kicks in with a different landscape to navigate.
And it never slows down. You might find yourself wondering what the heck is going on.
Or.
You might find yourself still in the center of the whirlwind if you’re in alignment.
Feeling peaceful and settled in the midst of change and deconstruction 2012 is winding up into, rest. Watching, still. Choosing action over motion with painstaking care.
From the eye of the storm, praying in gratitude for discernment. Thankful for a purpose-filled life. As familiarity wanes and discomfort grows… As questions flourish and the pace quickens, the answer to one question matters:
Is this an aching stretch to relax into, or a slow-burning pain excused and endured?
Change usually isn’t familiar or comfortable.
In transition, you need guidance to know the difference between stale and wrong, vs. new and right, especially when it all looks unfamiliar and uncomfortable.
You might find yourself making excuses for something you should be walking away from, or convincing yourself something you should run to is wrong… Because both are uncomfortable.
Only God can tell you the difference.
When we can’t see how something will work with our two little eyes, it’s really easy to draw the conclusion it won’t. Searching for definition and a road map, we can actually get lost by turning away from what was right for us because we didn’t know it.
It wasn’t familiar.
Your life is a body of water: How you choose to move through it depends largely on how deep into limitless waters you’re willing to go.
The thing about water, and boats is…
If you want definition and clarity, to see and know every turn and crevice, you’re talking about a pool. Maybe it’s a really cool pool, with a slide and an underwater light show and fountains and rocks and bubbles. But it’s a flippin’ pool. You might be able to get a floaty into it. How much fun is it to captain a floaty? A pool can’t feed you or give you water. There’s no life in that. It’s limited.
If you want a thrill and never-ending adventure with excitement and danger at every turn, you’re talking about white-water river rafting. Tons of fun. But you’re completely at the mercy of that wildly running river. There’s no stopping the raft in still water or pulling to the shore to rest. How long could you really survive in a raft? A rushing river can only sweep you along with it. There’s no purpose in that. It’s out of control.
But an ocean brings crashing waves and stillness. Endless, boundless space to choose to explore, mapping out where and why you’ll move with the ocean’s response. Deep and beautiful, it’s filled with life, caves, sea creatures, ravines… You can take a cruise liner out on that. You can build a life so solid and seaworthy, nothing can shake you and every moment is an adventure. That’s a purpose-filled life. Steady, sure, flexible, meaningful, wonderful.
Shallow water can only support so much. If your purpose is heavy, your life big and your destiny great, there’s going to have to be a whole lotta ocean beneath you to support and sustain it.
That can be scary, I guess. But wouldn’t you rather deal with potential dangers in limitless freedom than false safety in tight bondage? And for the record, kiddie pools are indeed awesome. But all they offer is novel and temporary relief from a day’s heat, and they only last one season.
Here’s to floating anchored into 2013 with slow surety, peace and readiness for the beautifully unexpected partnership God’s universe offers us: A perfect match for our brilliant, never been seen before destiny.
Tina Watkins Quaye 