We have been busy “re-tooling” here at this old house.  Shifts in lifestyle and work are now complete and we are in a threshold space: rejoicing in all that was and waiting expectantly for what comes next.

The fancy term for all of this is “liminal space,” that place that, if it were wide enough, you would completely stand inside a doorway. You have left one room but have not completely entered the next. Many of you know what I am talking about as you have been there or are currently there. It is exciting and terrifying, full of grief and yet full of anticipation. 

The trick in all of this is to keep living in the present, here and now, not missing the gift of “today.” It can be easy to panic, to worry about “what we will eat and what we will wear,” questioning Jesus’s teaching in the Sermon on the Mount about birds of the air and lillies of the field being fully provided for by a gracious Heavenly Father. For me, I find that it puts my whole “faith and trust in God” front and center: do I really believe it? Is God’s definition of “full provision” the same as mine?

This is a season of “being” and not “doing.” While there are requirements for body and soul in each day and new creative outlets to explore, it is also a time to let go of being defined by roles and titles. In fact, at this point in my life, everything that I have been doing for work for the last 30 plus years has ended. There are few externals that I can share when someone asks me, “And what do you do?” The lesson of this liminal space time is to be OK with saying “nothing” in response to that question.

Well, not exactly nothing. I am learning to be a child of God and to find my identity and sufficiency in that but that might be too complicated for some casual social settings. I think I will just say, “I am enjoying the harvest,” knowing the spring’s new planting will at some point become evident.