The Freedom to Begin...Again

I’m often restless, while at the same time I seek the comfort of a somewhat predictable routine. It makes no sense to me, but it is, in fact, the way that I am. I settle into routines, though sometimes reluctantly, only to find that I’m almost constantly on the lookout for the next significant thing. It’s likely a holdover from my early years when I needed predictability in order to know how to deal. The trap that we fall into when we operate in this way is that we get to the point where we find “comfort” in what’s essentially uncomfortable. And the quiet becomes something we seek to avoid.

In this season of my life, I feel that God has been pushing me into the quiet. For years, I’ve been focused on being a mother to my daughter. But she is now old enough to begin making her own choices and much to my chagrin, is looking toward new horizons to get her own life under way. We’re very close and so, the idea that one day soon she may not be right beside me all of the time is one that is nearly terrifying, but at the same time a reason for me to feel very proud and relieved. It has been a difficult twenty-two years, not because of my daughter, but because of all of the challenges that come with raising a child in today’s society. I’m happy to say that my daughter has never given me a reason to feel that she would make anything but good decisions when she finally steps out on her own.

For years, I told her that she could stay with me forever if she needs to, but I knew that it wasn’t likely. As much as I loved my mom and sisters, there came a day when I also found that it was time to leave. Time to set out on my own and see what I could do. And I did exactly that—though oftentimes with great difficulty. As I’ve shared many times, in my early twenties, I dealt with alcoholism and survived a rape at the hands of a close friend. Life was challenging, but God carried me through the worst of it, even though I didn’t realize it at the time.

Watching my little girl become a young woman is something that brings as much joy as it does dread. Once she steps away, what will I need to be? If not the shoulder to cry on in the wee hours of the night or the crazy old woman who shares inside jokes and an uncharacteristic love for K-Pop, who can I be for her? Who can I be for me? Or for anyone else for that matter? I guess this is what they mean when they talk about an empty nest.

Instead of focusing on the inevitable emptiness that will follow my daughter’s departure (when that happens), I’m choosing to look at what I might be able to do—what I’ve likely put off doing—for myself. Make no mistake, raising my girl has been the greatest joy of my life and I’m looking forward to watching what she does from here. For someone like me, however, it’s going to be just a bit too quiet for my taste. So, I’m going to need to make a little noise.

With that in mind, I’m releasing my newest book in the Rona Shively Stories series on August 3^rd. My last book in the series came out in 2016, so it’s about time! I’ve written some other things in between, but getting back to Rona is symbolic for me. She’s been an important part of my life since I published my first book back in 2004. She's the one who opened the door to everything I’m doing today as a writer and publisher, so it’s only fitting that she make her triumphant return in the midst of such a significant life change.

As we go through life, we will face many endings. And with that, new beginnings. These beginnings come with the freedom to venture onto new paths and experience new adventures. And for that, I’m truly grateful. It doesn’t mean abandoning everything that you love, but those new beginnings won’t occur if you don’t allow yourself and those you love to grow and pursue the things they are meant to pursue. So, instead of seeing the change as a devastating loss, look at these transitions as gifts from a God who is always preparing us for what comes next. That’s what I’m going to do.

God bless!