"Release brings with it the gift of peace. When we release in peace, we signal we're now ready to receive. Receive what's next. Receive what's best. Receive what's meant for this season, right now."
~ Lysa Terkeurst // The Best Yes
God really gave me a gift by leading us, releasing us, to move from Dallas to the rolling hills of Tennessee. So, this is what it means to have a "gentle and quiet spirit." My soul feels quiet within me. I can only explain it as true presence. At this moment, I'm perched in my new favorite peaceful spot - in the living room chair reading by the twinkle-lighted branches I found in our backyard woods. The intimacy of our home allows me to hear all three of my people breathing in their sleep about 10 feet away.
The biggest gifts have been those of time and less distractions. When we first arrived here in mid-November, it felt like my heart was soaring everyday with excitement and possibility. After the initial giddy excitement wore off and we finally settled into our home south of Nashville, I hit the wall about 2 months later feeling isolated and regretful, like I needed to scramble to fill my time with activities and friends old and new and that maybe, just maybe, this whole thing was a big mistake. Although I have so many dear, close friends here, it was still difficult starting over in a new place and living in a rural setting for the first time in my life. This social introvert wanted to know, How would I fill our days? Who would be our everyday "people"?
But through much seeking to hear the Lord's voice, He spoke loudly and clearly: my real purpose right now is here under my roof - this little 1200 square foot rental house roof. I've always seen it as a gift (and my choice) to be able to be home with my daughters. Now, I see the difference in being truly present vs. just being around. Time to myself and connecting with friends are still greatly needed, of course, and I drink them up. But those things are bonuses now, not distractions.
See, in the light of a new perspective, things change. Loneliness becomes the gift of time and presence with my husband and daughters. Isolation becomes space to breathe, to move more slowly and savor my surroundings. Even when I complained and doubted, God was gracious and kept bestowing these good gifts. He didn't give up on me.
After this renewed viewpoint, I felt such peace. And I started to cry. Because the gift was in front of me the entire time since we've moved, but I didn't see it.