The sun was abnormally warm on that February weekend that we visited the shore with friends.
The kind of warm that makes you turn your face up to the sky and breathe deeply while the sun’s rays and wind play together on your cheeks.
The kind that can make you feel alive again, after a long winter.
It was well before the spring weather was in, but there we were anyway, enjoying the warmth of the rays. The sand and the surge of waves at the water’s edge sent us scattering back to the safe edge like sand pipers. It was cold on our feet with a lingering sting. There’s something about kids that are immune though, so before long they were in the water with chattering teeth and purple lips.
Sheer joy coursed through their veins.
“Mommy… can we search for sea shells?” It wasn’t long before they’d ventured back up to the sand where the adults sat, asking. Searching for shells has been one of my very favorite past times with our kids ever since they were little. I’ll never get over their faces when they find an entire sand dollar or a mermaid’s purse… their wonderment over it all.
I think, in a way, I’ve been taught a lot about balance in the last year. I know now there is no such thing as balance and I find that so freeing. But this move has injected more into our lives than we thought possible. We’ve had a shift of our priorities in a good way, and we’ve found ourselves surrounded by some incredible people, all from different places of their own.
People who have helped us heal.
We’d been in a bad place for far too long. There’s something about leaving the old behind; especially a ministry job, if I’m being frank. I wear my heart on my sleeve, and because of that, I never belonged. I just wasn’t cut out for it. Looking back, I can see a timeline of events: A shift happened in me when our second was born nine years ago, where I realized that boundaries in my life were a necessity for survival. And then four years ago, I truly began to change. So there was a literal load off our shoulders when Jamin was able to walk away. Now, I find myself not wanting to even acknowledge the old place we called ‘home’ for twelve years anymore. To push it back and move on. Pretend it never happened. I’ve dealt with a lot of anger.
I still am.
I’m impatient. And naive. And I’m the first to admit it. Most of those twelve years were good to us.
But on the flip side of that coin, I feel like I’ve come of age. Because once upon a time a perpetual people pleaser, I no longer have room in my life for trivial criticism. It can be really easy to get caught up in appearances. Or what others think your life should look like.
Jamin and I both took a breather.
A very long one.
So there’s been a lot of sorting. Almost as if a tower came toppling down where I once held all my neatly packaged beliefs in alphabetical order. I find myself sitting in front of it, a little confused because I need to sort out the good bricks from the rubble: My own feelings and perceptions vs. the silly ones I feel were projected onto us by others. I had to take the two, and decide what was truth, and what wasn’t.
I was surprised by how many tricky un-truths there were… all based on someone else’s desires for our lives, or to fit their current agenda.
I’m too old for this, I mumble to myself. Wasn’t this supposed to happen in college?
So even though it’s time to rebuild, I’m not sure what the new build will look like.
I still don’t have answers.
Much to my own demise, I’m afraid I’ll never stop looking for them. I feel like they’re supposed to come to me in moments of enlightenment. Of hard-earned life lessons with neon lights delivered by angels and a choir and sparkling headlines. I’m searching. Selfishly, I want to build that tower again to keep me safe – So it all makes sense again. I’m waiting for these moments so I won’t be angry anymore.
And I guess at the end of the day, I have this unquenchable need for things to make sense.
It’s easy to get lost in that.
Life is random and messy and hard. Vicious, really. We’re all just broken people trying to figure it out. Searching for the big answers, and big life moments, trying to get them to make sense is a lot like using a band-aid to cover a bullet wound.
No one has it figured out. They want you to think they do. But they don’t.
We can all use a lot of grace and a lot less in the judgement arena.
We’re only here for a little while. Our days are but snippets in a very long book.
Back to that day at the beach: Our kids combed the shoreline. Wonderment in their eyes, as they brought me the big jagged particles of shells they found… true to what kids do.
“Those are pretty. But look at these beautiful patterns in the little ones. These are the ones you want – you’re missing them,” I could hear Jamin’s steady, deep voice tell them next to me.
And then it hit me.
Maybe it really is all about perspective.
It took us four years to get to this very place, and I’m so busy, caught up in looking for the answers in the next thing. And the next thing after that…
But here’s a little secret: They truly don’t matter.
The little moments that are gorgeously laid out before you, glittering in the sand just waiting to be collected, are the ones that matter in life. The little moments are where the beauty lies. But I’m too busy, striving to get my hands on those big ones. The next big moment. The big answer that will put it all together for me. Something that helps me make sense of it all… something that makes it all feel like there’s order and purpose.
If I look back, it should only be to see how far we’ve come, and to appreciate the journey. And if I take in the present, it should be to bend down and collect the glittering little moments that truly matter. The little sea shells. Because we don’t have the future.
They’re in my children’s laughter and happiness when they play together in our big beautiful yard that I thought we’d never see.
They’re in getting stronger and helping my Endometriosis symptoms through classes – When Jamin purchased those classes for me as a gift, I laughed at him. I can touch my toes now, and that’s a big freaking deal.
They’re in the gorgeous eggs in subtle hues only nature can produce, that our neighbors brought us from their chicken coop the other day.
They’re in being completely raw and honest with genuine friends over dinner who won’t judge you for questioning life, because they’re willing to admit they don’t have it all figured out, either. That’s kind of a rarity.
They’re in crying with a friend who just lost his wife to a vicious battle with cancer. She was my age. There’s so much that comes with just listening to his peaceful, years-beyond-wisdom and perspective in his words.
Even in the middle of his struggle, there is so. much. strength.
The little moments are the ones that matter. Not the big ones. Not my failures. Not the regrets. Not even in future hopes.
But in the glittering waves as a back drop where my son proudly procures a small shell. He suddenly sees the beauty. He places it there alongside the big ones.
They all become one big jumbled mess of moments, just happy to be there, clinking around in his orange plastic bucket.
Sheer joy courses through his veins.
We’re all collecting snippets of treasure from the shoreline.
Let’s not miss the beauty in those magnificent little ones.
Dear Ashley, I love how honest this post is. I am so sorry for all the disillusionment you’ve suffered. But I am grateful that you are looking beyond it and embracing the lovely little bits that life hands us. I have found it very useful as I look back on experiences that filled me with anger, or any super charged negative emotion, and ask myself “why am I reacting so much? What button is this pushing?” And then I just sit and listen, without judging myself. I watch what my mind does, what fears or self lies come forward. And I try to see the whole story. I own the places where the fault is mine, and free myself where it is not. It has been a powerfully liberating experience. It leads you to who you truly are and helps you to let go of all the “should-be’s”. I am so happy you have found the small joys. Once you see those scattered through your day, you have the hope to work through the bigger stuff. Good luck friend.
The Other Marian
Sage advice, Marian. That really is so very wise to take a step back. Thank you for your sweet words!
This is beautiful – thank you
A great reminder to enjoy the little moments. I try so hard to do that but I feel like I still fail at it often.
Beautifully said.
Beautifully said
This is just what I needed today. THank you ❤️
Thank You!
Ashley, I wanted to respond to this post but I had to wait a while to think about what I wanted to say. Reading your post made me feel sad and I hope this will encourage you. I’m so sorry that you have been disappointed when Jamin was part of an official ministry. I know that people let us down and I have certainly experienced that myself many times over the years. I’m still a very naïve and innocent person even though I’m 64 years old. In a way that’s not good that I’m still so trusting but in other ways, I’m glad that I’m not a bitter person. I tend to be very joyful almost all the time. I have always tended to accept people at face value and have learned the hard way that some people are not at all who they appear to be. That’s been especially painful when those people attend church and profess to be Christians. I had to learn the hard way that life doesn’t always turn out the way I thought it was supposed to or the way I envisioned that it would. I am still continuing to learn that the Lord is someone that I can lean on during the good times and in the bad times and He has always been my refuge. I have learned that the hard times have taught me to be a good “forgiver”. I’m honestly grateful for the bad times because they have improved my moral character even though they sure did hurt and I have cried a lot of tears over the years ( I think everyone does that). I know we’ve never met but I really care about you a lot. You are a blessing to me.
Thank you, Bonnie. I can not thank you enough. Your words are so sweet and kind. I do tend to do the same thing, {just take people at face value – because with me, what you see is what you get} and because of that, I was burned. And I have to grow up, and move past it. These are total first world problems, after all. I’ve just been trying to make sense of it. Writing is the best therapy, or so they say… so just one day at a time. ;}
I cannot even remember how I found this post … except that the Lord led me to it. While it pains my spirit that you are walking through what sounds so. very. much. like what our family is currently experiencing, it brings a bit of comfort that we are not alone. I know all the “correct” answers to my anger, disappointment and sorrow (mourning, even) concerning ministry pains, but some days are just more difficult to navigate. Thank you for sharing. It brings encouragment to me!
Hang in there, Brandy. I’m with you on this one.
It’s tough when you feel like you’ve given so much, sacrificed for years, only to get petty criticism in return. Once upon a time, I thought adults grew up. I was oh so wrong. There was definitely a mourning period for us, and I think that we went through the entire cycle of stages. I just got stuck in anger, and I’m ready to move on- It’s the culture that I’ve been ready to toss, really. Trying to just re-process, and slowly but surely move on.
Difficult times in life are such a strain but they do shape us. When my husband became disabled and was always i pain it affected BOTH of us. Then when ti was discovered he had frontal lobe dementia our world was turned upside down and inside out. Six years living through it was heartbreaking and strengthening. Then when he died Nov 10, 2012, it was as if a tornado carried me off. After 37 years with him, it was suddenly me, alone. I am still growing and finding me.
Beautifully shared. I’ve found the ministry in just loving and relationships with others. At the right moment. Sharing life. In this season. Love and prayers for blessing and healing and love from and for those who surround you.
Ashley, I’m sorry you have had to walk this walk. It’s especially painful when you realize it is people who you think would never leave your side to turn on you. It’s especially hard when they are targeting your husband. My husband and I have had to deal with something similar (but not in ministry) and I have come to realize that when we walk through this fire that God is still totally in control. In looking back I realize we might not be where we are today if we had not had to go through the hard times back then. Might be living in the same dreadful town, husband working in the same stressful job, me not having the opportunity to work in the fulfilling career I recently retired from. You sound like you are thrilled to be in Nashville and working in design. Would you have done that without the problems with your husbands employment? When times are tough we need to lean on our Lord to comfort, guide and protect us. Believe me I’ve been there and done that. It can be so bad that God is the only place to turn. Getting rid of anger is hard and I have decided that moving past is the best thing and not dwelling on forgiving which I know is not very Christian-like. Just forget those who made your life miserable….they are not worth the time you spend being miserable. After a lot of prayer I believe you can be (are) in that happy place where you desire to be. God Bless!
About two years ago we got caught up in a love triangle at our church. We weren’t part of the affair, it was their daughter who came to us and said she thought her dad was cheating. Anyways, we handled this situation by the Book. We went to them first, we didn’t gossip, I mean we went exactly by how the bible says. And it bit us, HARD. It came back that we were spreading lies and trying to bust up their marriage. The elders didn’t do anything about the affair that continued for at least another year. We had our 4th baby that December about 4 months out from everything, and not 1 person from our church visited us in the hospital, they did bring us food though. We left in January and didn’t attend church for a little over a year. I tell people that we didn’t need a break from God but from “God’s people”. I also couldn’t worship where the elders turned a blind eye and where I honestly couldn’t stand the people. I’ve worked hard too let go of that anger. I’ve also learned that while I want my kids to be involved and have friends, I’m perfectly happy talking to people at church and then leaving. I no longer feel like I have too, or should fit in. I’ve embraced that I’m an introverted person. And for the love of all things good I don’t want too know anyone’s secrets!
That sucks, Amy. It’s definitely one of those things that will leave a bad taste in your mouth. We’ve taken quite the break ourselves… with no desire to fit in. I totally get it from that perspective.