I'm Moving On

Before the breakthrough, there is the quiet surrender.

This is a strange season for me.

On one hand, I feel content with where I am. Years of hustle and hard work have finally slowed to a steady trickle of reaping what’s been sown. Not quite a full feast, but certainly not the famine of the past few years. My home environment is finally stable, decorated to my liking, though never quite finished. And my usually busy schedule has slowed to an easy flow of occasional activity and much-needed rest.

Yet, there’s something that continues to tug on my spirit. What started as a whisper grows louder each day. A feeling that I can’t stuff down, and dare not ignore. It’s the deep knowing that this chapter in my life is coming to an end—it’s time for me to go.

These last few years have been ones of painful growth in every area of my life. I took leaps of faith that didn’t go according to plan, which spiraled into financial strain. I held emotional space in my dating life for men who weren’t ready to let go of their past, while passing the tests of not looking in my own rearview mirror. I kept the unhealed and the unchanged at arm’s length—protecting the peace that I worked hard to cultivate. And walked away from spaces and business opportunities that no longer aligned with who I am, despite my hesitancy to leave money on the table in a time of financial need.

This season forced me to increase my faith and quiet my fears. I grasped at maintaining control, a trauma response to wanting something that felt certain in my life, only to eventually accept that I’m not meant to have it. Not in defeat, but in the wisdom of understanding that only God truly knows what’s best for me, and that without seeking Him first (Matthew 6:33), I become the author of my own chaos. So slowly, and admittedly begrudgingly, I’ve begun taking my hands off of things. And in exchange, I’ve been gifted an unexplainable peace of knowing that everything is going to be alright.

Still, nagging in the back of my mind is that I’m not living to my full potential, and that I’ve sat on my gifts long enough. At 35, many would consider me to have accomplished a lot. But when you’re not fully walking in your purpose, even the greatest of achievements feel meaningless. And ironically, the things you’re meant to have can’t come to fruition if you’re living beneath your calling. The abundance you’re meant to attract instead gets stuck in a state of financial purgatory. The love you’re meant to experience falls short, and you settle for someone who isn’t aligned with who you’re destined to be and who limits how far you can go. The joy and peace that come from fulfillment are replaced by quiet resentment, and what you lack in yourself, you certainly can’t have for others.

I’ve grown to understand that the craving I have for a certain life and in certain environments isn’t by delusion, it’s by design. It’s connected to everything that God has in mind for me if I were to just trust Him and be obedient to His word (Proverbs 3:5–6).

It’s not meant for everyone to understand, and thus, just as important for me to be careful of who I tell. What I can share is that I’m stepping into the essence of who I’ve always been, but was scared to fully embrace. I’m not different, I’m just more discerning.