For the One Who Is Starting Over

When I was little, my dad used to call me tenacious. That was a pretty big word for a little girl, and I don't know that I fully understood what he meant back then. But today, I take pride in that word because I believe tenacity was built into me from the very beginning.

I think my dad saw something in me before I even recognized it in myself. I was a little girl who refused to give up, even when things didn't go the way I wanted them to.

I've had plenty of opportunities to put that tenacity to use.

Growing up, starting over meant moving to a new school, making new friends, figuring out where I belonged, and sometimes proving myself all over again on the basketball court. I even remember changing my name during one move in junior high because I thought maybe having a different name would somehow change my world.

I guess I was trying to figure out who I wanted to be in a place where nobody knew who I'd been.

But starting over looks different when you're an adult.

I hate to say that I've had two failed marriages. Starting over in that sense was never part of the story I wanted for my life, but it became part of it anyway.

And I've learned that starting over can be scary, daunting, overwhelming, and full of unknowns. Sometimes you're excited about a new beginning, and other times you're standing in the middle of a life you never expected, wondering how you're supposed to begin again.

In some of those seasons, when I found myself starting over as a single mom, I didn't have the luxury of waiting until I felt ready. I had children depending on me, and regardless of how I felt about everything that had happened, there were still responsibilities waiting for me.

I was allowed to have weak moments. I was allowed to cry and feel the weight of what had happened, but most days, I found myself picking up the weight that had been left on my shoulders and carrying on.

I think that's where the word my dad used to describe me all those years ago began to mean something different.

Tenacious.

I didn't always feel strong, and I certainly didn't always know what I was doing. But I kept going because there were people depending on me, and because somewhere inside, I still believed there was life ahead of me.

But I also believe starting over can be beautiful.

Think about spring. What would the world look like if everything stayed dormant after winter was over?

Every year, the trees begin budding again, flowers push their way through the ground, and the world begins showing signs of life. But just because the season has changed doesn't mean the ground has softened. Snow may still fall, and frost may still come.

And I think starting over can look a lot like that. We may still be standing on hard ground, carrying things from the season before, but that doesn't mean something new can't begin to grow.

Spring doesn't promise there won't be another frost. But the possibility of frost doesn't mean nothing can grow.

If you're in a season of starting over, especially one you never wanted, I want to encourage you to give yourself a little grace.

Maybe you're trying to begin again, but parts of your life still feel like winter. I want you to know that you don't have to have everything figured out before taking your next step, and you certainly don't have to pretend you're excited about it if you're not.

So here's what I want to invite you to do.

I give you permission to swing.

Find a swing on a playground, a hammock between two trees, or a porch swing where you can sit for a little while. Let yourself enjoy the gentle movement without worrying about where you need to be or what you need to figure out next.

And for those few moments, allow yourself to experience a little joy, even if everything around you hasn't changed.

Let the joy of the Lord be your strength in that moment.

You can figure things out later. For now, give yourself a little grace and enjoy the swing.

And remember, YOU are allowed to find joy along the way.