Tag: impatience

Learning to Let It Unfold

I read something the other day that stopped me mid-scroll in a way that only the right words at the right time can do: “The universe has the most beautiful plan for you. Allow it to unfold in divine timing. You can not rush magic.” And I’ll be honest with you… my first reaction wasn’t peace. It was resistance.

Because if there is anything I have tried to do in this life, it is hurry things along. Fix it faster. Heal it quicker. Figure it out now so I don’t have to sit in the uncomfortable middle of it all. I am not, by nature, a “let it unfold” kind of person. I am a Google it, plan it, fix it, solve it before bedtime kind of person. But life—if it has taught me anything lately—does not operate on my timeline. Not the hard things, not the healing things, and definitely not the meaningful things.

The parts of life that matter most seem to take their time. They stretch out longer than we want. They sit in that space where there are more questions than answers, more waiting than movement, more uncertainty than clarity. And that space is uncomfortable. Because waiting feels like doing nothing, and doing nothing feels like losing control. But maybe that’s where I’ve been getting it wrong. Maybe not everything is meant to be managed and mastered and pushed forward by sheer willpower. Maybe some things are meant to be allowed.

Allowed to grow. Allowed to heal. Allowed to become what they’re meant to be without me overworking every step of the process. That word—allowed—requires a kind of trust I’m still learning. Trust that even when I can’t see progress, something is happening. Trust that even when it feels slow, it’s still moving. Trust that just because it isn’t happening on my timeline doesn’t mean it isn’t happening at all.

When I look back, I can see it more clearly. The things I once tried to rush, the answers I demanded too soon, the outcomes I thought I needed immediately… so many of them unfolded better because they didn’t happen when I wanted them to. The delay wasn’t denial. It was preparation. Things were shifting behind the scenes in ways I couldn’t see at the time, shaping me into someone who could actually hold what I was asking for.

That doesn’t mean the waiting suddenly becomes easy. I still catch myself trying to rush outcomes, trying to force clarity, trying to skip ahead to the part where everything makes sense. But I’m learning, slowly and imperfectly, that not everything is meant to be rushed into understanding. Some things are meant to be lived through first. And maybe there is something beautiful happening in the unfolding, even when it feels messy or unclear or painfully slow.

So today I’m reminding myself that I don’t have to have it all figured out right now. I don’t have to force the timeline or push what isn’t ready. I can take the next step, show up where I am, and trust—just a little more than I did yesterday—that something meaningful is still in motion. Because you really can’t rush magic, and maybe the most beautiful parts of life are the ones that take their time getting to us.

Blessings y’all – Amy

Reflections of a Wounded Heart

They say everything changes when you turn 40. Actually they say it all goes to hell in a hand basket. 🤷🏻‍♀️ Things droop that didn’t before, going to bed at 8 am no longer seems appalling, the eye doctor says the dreaded “bi-focal” word. You don’t FEEL 40, heck you don’t feel 30, but the number keeps climbing.

More importantly your perspective on many things changes. For some, it happens naturally and without pain. Maturity just grows along with the number of candles on your cake. For others, 🙋🏻‍♀️, it takes catastrophic events to shake them out of the protective bubble they have cast around themselves. While I wish dearly I had fallen into group “a” my life has always dictated I do things the hard way.

If you have known me long or been reading here you know I’ve been going through massive changes in my life. Some of my choosing but most, well, not. What I didn’t anticipate as I fought, scratched, clawed, disrespected, and basically did everything but throw myself in front of things beyond my control is that God was working. He was allowing me to screw up to the “nth” degree. On purpose. Letting me get to a place there was no light. No hope. No joy. No love. Nothing at all left of the stability I craved with every fiber of my being.

Before you jump ship saying He wouldn’t do that – hang on. God had been trying to get my attention for years. Aborted journals reflect that. Times I cried out but quickly “fixed” it myself attested to that. I am a “fixer”. There is nothing (so I thought) that I couldn’t analyze for all the possible negative outcomes and navigate myself or someone I loved out of danger. I mean c’mon. If you were dealing with a human that dumb wouldn’t you let them fall as far as they could before you showed them the way?

Not saying God has any such thoughts. But I certainly would have looked at me and say “you have fun with that let me know when you need real help”. Blessedly God has abundant mercy and grace. He is patient and knew long before I did that this dark season was coming. Sometimes I wish he had given me some warning but if I look back really hard I bet I can find the warnings I chose to ignore.

Recently a co-worker told me he’s finding many people our age running into self reflection. I can’t speak for anyone else but self reflection is putting it mildly. Self analysis, soul searching, self questioning, self correction, self remodeling…you get the idea. Coming face to face with every one of my imperfections and analyzing and agonizing over how I have handled some parts of my life. How it changed relationships in my past or present. How it passed down to my children. Who my own fears and insecurities erased from my life. It’s exhausting. I’m not a bad person – I know that – but I, like any human, have places I could have chosen a different path.

It would be easy to blame it all on the very broken environment I was raised in. And while the lions share of it belongs there (validated by the counselor) at some point I consciously or subconsciously made choices for my own protection from pain. I willingly tucked my family in closer than it should have been (to be healthy) because I was afraid the world would break the happiness I had found. I guarded the nest Fred and I created with the energy of a tiger protecting a steak. When I suffered the catastrophic loss of my husband I somehow pulled my children in CLOSER. Unknowingly stifling their growth and happiness.

Regardless of what anyone thinks not a single choice I have made has been with ill intention. Not one. I am discovering how very hard it is for others to know that. In a society where judging comes first and any sort of compassion and understanding comes second it appeared controlling. Only those closest to me, who know my purest heart, understand who I am. As I embrace the woman God intended me to be, and get the love I need from Him (where I should have gotten it all along), I am finding myself still battling stress and regrets but with a softer tongue and a self awareness that comes with maturity and being shaped by pain. I find myself understanding which wrong turns I took and how a different path would have landed a different outcome. I find myself letting my children know where I went wrong so they can avoid making the same painful mistakes. Fully understanding that in their young immaturity they’ll probably have to make them anyway but once a protective mother always a protective mother.

I say all this to say…take time for reflection. Allow God to speak to your heart and show you the way. If you are still young avoid youthful impatience in your choices. Be mindful of the longevity of adulthood and how lasting decisions really can be. But know that if you are nursing a wounded heart? God still has plans for you. He does for me and while I’m impatient to find out what they are I know it’ll happen on His time. And that I am learning in every second that I am waiting.

God Bless – Amy