When the Roller Coaster Stops

Yesterday morning, after feeding the horses, I took my morning prayer stroll. The best part of my day is starting it with the good Lord. Oddly, I was feeling a bit blue. 

The past six weeks have been quite a ride for an old retired gal—finishing the Two Signs novel and getting it up and running, reworking my entire website, preparing for a conference presentation, wrapping my mind around the book launch, and finally, preparation for sharing a message with our church this past Sunday. All of this included some incredible highs, and difficult lows, along with all of the routine things life brings us in between.

On Monday, I had time to sense the ride slowing down and yesterday it hit me. That roller coaster had come to an end. 

Apparently, so did I!

It was time to step off the coaster. But then, it was difficult to get motivated to do anything else. I was having difficulty understanding my lack of drive. There had been so much going on at one time, I had barely had time to look up. And perhaps as I was walking along lamenting to my dear Father, I began wondering if I was even on the right path, if my life was pleasing to Him, if I needed a shift in my direction. It was in that moment, walking along that path, that I allowed my eyes to lift and really "see" the walk.

Just off to the right, were the flowers you see pictured in this blog—a beautiful, tiny rainbow of wildflowers. Just sitting there, doing their job, enjoying the morning already. No mully-grubbing. No questions. Just being who those beautiful little wildflowers were.

It was in that moment that I realized how easily we can confuse productivity with purpose.

I've spent most of my life doing. I AM a DOER.

Teaching. Leading. Coaching. Creating. Writing. Planning. And the list goes on.

Retirement has NOT cured me of that!

But maybe, just maybe, purpose isn't found in the next project. Maybe sometimes purpose looks like standing on the path by the pasture in the early morning, having the incredible blessing of talking to the Creator of our universe while the sun is finding its place in the sky, and seeing the beautiful, tiny pops of color in a sea of green.

Maybe, sometimes, the emptiness we feel when the ride is over is quietly telling us that our place—our purpose in that moment—is simply to rest and reflect.

To allow ourselves a moment to let our Father speak to our hearts. To give ourselves space to enjoy the simple things and to see just how far we have come.

Will I get back on that roller coaster again? Likely. Life is like that. But sometimes, stopping to smell the flowers is much more rewarding than riding the rollercoaster. That is something to be grateful for and this morning, I think I'll soak it in for a while.

The roller coaster can wait.