Intimate Gratitude- Not Then, But Now

When something new is created, something must die.

I read that in a book this past week and I can't stop thinking about it. Over and over again I repeat it in my head as I find myself bringing hope to the massive changes that will soon transpire in my life. It's true- I've known it deep in my soul but I've never put words to it. And now here I am living through this cycle again.

I've been through so much change. Most on my own accord. I wouldn't change any of it. To grow, is to change. If you haven't been faced with change or hard decisions.. you haven't dedicated yourself to growth. But with each new season, I am faced with the sorrow of letting go. To walk into my destiny, follow Yah in trust, and commit to myself requires a new season.. possibly over and over again. These new seasons are a marker of beautiful growth- they are important to who I am and the legacy I am creating. But it doesn't stop the pain, the discomfort, and the sorrow. There is so much to leave.. so many hard decisions to be made. Many relationships that will end and people I will never see again.

And today, I became acutely aware of this bursting sense of gratitude I feel for each part of my daily life, because I am reminded that it will never be the same again. I will never live in this season of my life again. It is going to die. I walk through the grocery store that I love with all the brightly colored peppers stacked high and take a few extra moments to notice each color, so bright and vibrant. I visit the section of kale I've become so acquainted with; the snack aisle and the chocolate aisle too. The store seems so full of life, so inviting. I am reminded that food is gift and this store has been part of my creating, nourishing, and teaching in this season. I mourn the many faces I've seen and stories I've come to know that speak to me across the counter as I make them coffee, recognizing that I will no longer get to hear about what projects they are working on or how they are handling the grief of sick family members or the passions they have on their heart. I walk the paths of my favorite park and remember all my times of solitude here- speaking to the Lord, dreaming up plans for my business, and letting myself feel free. I think of all the seasons I have seen the park go through, and how I have been a part of them all. Oh man how I'll miss the triple chocolate sourdough doughnut at Knead and the delectable pastries of Nathaniel Reid. I'll no longer eat brisket at Lona's or order the loaded fries at Cellar House across the street on Friday nights. No more Saturday morning breakfast sandwiches with cold brew as I run around to garage sales. I feel myself running through each thing I will lose and then quickly replacing it with everything I will gain to counteract the pain of letting go. But, I'm realizing it actually makes me more sad to recognize that I haven't appreciated the bright peppers or the garage sales when they happen without fear of end. I want to feel this intimately involved in gratitude every single moment of every single day. Loss sobers you up. It helps remind you that every day truly is ripe with expectation.. because you will never have these moments again. A new season will come, and you will have to let go.

I bought my dad a smoothie the other day and took it to him at work. His usual joyful expression was welcomed, but I felt a harsh twinge of sadness as I noticed his hair looking more grey than the last time I saw him. I leave him too, and acknowledge the fact that each year he gets closer to leaving me.

Change is sorrow; and it is excitement. It is truly a paradox.


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