The Sweetness of Marinating

Originally posted at SheLoves Magazine.

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The past six months have been crammed full of chaos.

I hurt someone I care about deeply, because I couldn’t be what he needed me to be. My parked car was shot at and now the wind whistles through the hole in my windshield. I was fired from my job at the café where I loved so many people. And this week I dropped a ladder on my house and broke a window.

I ought to be having a meltdown right about now. My sister will attest that there have been bad days where I have used fun phrases about fans and fecal matter. But I’m pretty sure I’m doing okay right now.

In February I waltzed past my 29th birthday. For the first time in a long time I didn’t feel like I needed to be more than I am. I didn’t need to think about who I am going to be. I just spent the day being it.

Maybe that’s it. Maybe I’m finding my sweet spot—where the world isn’t sunny and bright all the time, but at least I can see that it will be again.

Maybe it’s that even amid the chaos, I’m not rushing forward. I think I’m just … marinating.

I’m soaking in a whole lot of grace and generosity and also heartache and distress. I have no idea what this sweet, salty brine will produce in my life, but at worst, more fodder for my memoir, right?

In my marinating, I am calm. And that calm scares me just a little. If you know me, then you know I am not calm. I am wired and high-strung. I have no fewer than six projects at one time and have packed my schedule down to 15-minute increments. I talk fast, I move fast, I drive fast.

I’m still that high-strung, ambitious woman filling my schedule with too many projects for the hours allotted. I’m still working two jobs and building a house and starting a business. But I’m also learning the way of rest.

I am drenched in peace.

Maybe this is what “peace that surpasses understanding” really feels like.

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