I wasn’t sure I wanted to come here tonight. Starbucks, on a Wednesday, with the husband out of town. Tired as I am from a long day of work, a long week of moving, and a few long months of life, still I decided to throw my things into my black canvas bag and make the short trip down the street.
So here I sit, thinking and writing, writing and thinking. Tall Pike by my side and Neil Young’s “Long May You Run” overhead.
I’ve had a lot on my mind lately. My thoughts have been on hyper speed and I can’t quite keep up. Ty and I have been in one of the most challenging seasons that we’ve known together. Ten months of tough decisions and never-ending transitions, it can best be described as a season of upheaval (if I may borrow a dear friend’s most appropriate description).
Life looks nothing like it did ten months ago, four months ago, or even two weeks ago. Every corner we come to seems to catch us by surprise, each one holding something new and something different. Jobs lost and living spaces left. New jobs and new homes. Big obstacles and bigger decisions. Bitter, sweet, and bittersweet—sometimes all at once.
It’s been hard to get clarity lately. To step back far enough and view things as if on the outside. I know that this is never truly possible—to look at your own circumstances objectively—but sometimes it can help to try.
That’s part of why I came here tonight. There’s something about the coffee shop atmosphere that inspires that really good kind of thinking. Where coffee and ideas brew simultaneously—sometimes strong and robust, and other times light and smooth. It’s where I think clearly. Where Ty and I love to share and to dream. Where thoughts flow freely and my mind is free to wander and to wonder in the best sort of way.
It’s been ten months and Ty and I are finally starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. To be honest, I will be more than happy to leave this season behind. It’s just been tough in ways that are difficult to explain. And yet there’s been beauty in the pain, and we’ve learned so much about ourselves and about each other. Isn’t that how it always is? How He always works?
A couple of months ago I read Psalm 27:13, and for the first time, I identified with it in a very real way:
“I would have despaired unless I believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.”
Another translation reads:
“I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.”
This verse has been such an encouragement to me—a source of peace and a place of comfort. A great reminder that even in the midst of my most troubling moments, God is working while I’m waiting.
It goes without saying, but effective as Starbucks may be at provoking thought, Scripture always brings the better clarity. Even on their best day, the Green Mermaid and my favorite Cinnamon Dolce Latte can’t compete. Getting God’s perspective is the only way for me to truly clear my head and exchange error for encouragement. It’s life-giving dependency versus life-draining desperation; renewal versus running-on-empty.
And so tonight, while the ambiance may help, it’s the life-giving, mind-renewing words of Scripture that bring me clarity and hope. Tonight, I am confident and I don’t despair. Because I will see the goodness of the Lord. It’s been there all along.
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