Today, for maybe the first time, I felt excited about the season of life I’m slowly heading into. And it came about in an interesting way.
My husband and I were talking this morning about cooking. More specifically, I was sharing about how I am still having trouble navigating the diet I need now – all the restrictions in food and preparation, etc. As I told a friend recently, the kitchen used to be one of the favorite rooms in my house, but now it just reminds me of all I can’t do and eat anymore.
It was a good conversation. I got a chance to share some practical and emotional challenges I’ve had lately. And my husband had some insightful things to say about both. His main point was that I needed to base the family meals more around the basics that I could tolerate than what I thought everyone else wanted.
What he said reminded me of something I believe God whispered to me last week. As I prayed for peace during an upsetting and exhausting time, I got a message to “Let go.” It could have applied only to the situation at hand, but for some reason I felt it went beyond that. It felt like a bigger, broader command.
Now, I am not one to let go easily of anything. I cling to what I know, whether it is helpful or not. Letting go has always meant losing something or someone which causes me sorrow. Kind of a narrow definition, to be sure. But this morning, I dared to consider how letting go could lead to something better.
- If I let go of trying to feed (take care of, fix problems for) everyone in the family, I’ll take better care of myself
- If I let go of worrying about whether everyone likes what I cook (do, say, think), I’ll be more free to discover what’s good for me
- If I let go of striving to make sure my food (work, ministry) is always perfect, I can gain more enjoyment from what I do and be more of a blessing
Do you see how that ripples out? I do now. Instead of just being a reason to grieve, letting go can be a gateway to new adventures. And that’s exciting!
So, I’m revisiting my diet and my life, ready to clear out what doesn’t nourish me anymore.