Living In Season, Out Of Comfort

From as early as I can remember, I've always longed for the changing of seasons, physical and metaphorical. By the time a season had set in, I was ready and planning for the next. As a single woman, I was absolutely desperate to be loved and swept away. I'd get insane crushes, and while never speaking a word of it to the crushee, would be analyzing every moment, look, and word. In college I began praying for my future children. I even jokingly prayed that God would give me a tolerance for football so I would not be an embittered wife on weekends in the fall. When Joe and I married, it was all I could do not to constantly think about when we'd start a family and at the same time being paranoid of pregnancy on a monthly basis.

Several years ago, Robyn Henk spoke to the women at Vintage21 about living and serving in your season. There was a time to be the single woman and serve in a way only single women are capable of, there was a time to be home with an infant, there was a time when the children were older and you could do more and engage them, and there was a time to be the older-wiser mentor. She warned us of running into conflict when we try to model our lives and service on a season that is not our own.

As I am out of the season of caring for an infant (only temporarily I hope), I find myself feeling prodded to expand my sphere of influence beyond the front door of my home. There are so many potential projects I'd love to throw myself at, such as helping start a community garden, volunteer tutoring, etc, but I do still have a toddler that seriously limits my attention span, the times I can get out, and my physical capabilities. As Daniel gets a little older, these opportunities may become more feasible, but I am still not in that season yet, and yes, it frustrates me.

While I have always rebelled against the persona of the stay-at-home, cooking, cleaning, laundry folding, diaper changing, mama, I've realized that although I may not always be able to make it out the front door, I can at least open the front door and let people in. This isn't a season I've ever really longed for, which is maybe why I've opted for the extended infant, quarantine myself from the world season. This brings me to the idea of living out of comfort. I really like being a part-time hermit. I like controlling my environment, I like choosing when and where to see people, I like not getting needy emails and phone calls. As I have taken not one but two years off from commitments other than my part time job and raising Daniel (which is a year longer than I should have), I have managed to somewhat disappear from the available friend/coach/mentor radar. I've been living incredibly selfishly. I've started to feel somewhat useless, empty, and vain.

There has to be a balance of living in the appropriate season of life, recognizing your limitations and spheres of influence, but not living for comfort. As the mom of a toddler, striving for a safe home environment is perfectly fine, but if the pursuit of the comforts of home has prevented me from taking emotional risks, pursuing and caring for other people, and allowing God to use me, then I have in a sense stopped living altogether.

So today I am taking my first risks: going to a women's ministry interest meeting, and then having some women over for dinner. It doesn't sound like much, but you have to understand I have had no one over for dinner (other than family and the community group once) since maybe last Christmas, at least as far as I am able to remember. This is sad and astounding. So, let the seasons change ;)