When Words Are Few
Recently we learned our oldest son might be experiencing airway issues while he sleeps. One “know what I recently learned?!” comment from a friend connected several dots we didn’t know needed to be connected for our son. A quick message to his pediatrician got us a referral to an ENT to check it out.
A month later and I find myself in the small patient room, my 7-year-old sitting in a giant chair waiting for the doctor to come in. Once the doctor arrives I give my quick reasoning for the visit and he says “Ok let’s take a look.”
7-year-old tongue out. Flashlight on. Tongue depressor activated.
The doctor exclaims with a tinge of excitement that only someone passionate about ears, noses, and throats can muster: “Oh this is obvious! I love when it’s obvious!”
I love when things are obvious too.
That means there’s an obvious solution - even if it’s a painful one like the tonsillectomy in my son’s future.
An obvious problem is a fixable problem.
But - the big but - not all problems are obvious.
And this is where I find myself today. Trying to figure out a non-obvious problem that seems to rear its head in a pattern I can’t totally decipher.
During March my words and my brain felt congested. I couldn’t look ahead. I couldn’t strategize. Most Sunday nights - the night Marc and I have practiced the rhythm of looking ahead to the coming week - I couldn’t even muster the resolve to crack open my planner.
I can’t quite figure out why this is happening again. Because again seems to be the only decipherable part for me so far. Each time I think I find further clarity and confidence I am soon after met with a wall.
But this time my posture has felt different at the wall.
I’m more patient.
I’ve surrendered to the quiet.
I’m standing open-handed at the wall that feels like an obstacle asking what it’s trying to teach me.
So far I’ve got nothing. Just congested words.
And when life gives you a wall, lean on what led you there. (This is what author and spiritual director Emily P. Freeman continues to teach me as I’ve slowly been reading her newest book).
And so this month I’ve been back to leaning on my word of the year - desire.
Maybe you remember that last year I chose the word wonder as my 2023 anchor. And I loved it as an exercise. I asked more questions. I paid attention to more details. I let my inner child stop and be amazed more than my adult sensibilities would choose. And an interesting result of my 2023 is that it felt like one of my least productive years ever.
A friend in my mom’s group led us through a reflective writing activity during March and guess what her focus was - stoking wonder. I had quite the revelation when I was walking through her thoughtful guidance:
2023’s word was wonder.
2023 felt like a year without much tangible progress and now I connect the dots.
Wonder isn’t manufactured.
It cannot be boxed and sold.
Wonder isn’t a checkbox on a to-do list.
You cannot make a graph of it and track its performance.
Wonder is presence.
Wonder is surrender.
Wonder is an embrace of my finite nature.
And so the year focused on wonder could not be measured with my typical measuring sticks.
I see the manifested intagibles of wonder when I try.
And now I feel more sure. Having stood firm in the moment long enough for my roots to grow more deeply.
I am circling without fighting the return to the same areas. I noticed the wisdom growing each time I circle. I notice more what I am circling.
I wonder what my life will look like as I deepen my embrace, my circling of belovedness.
The funny thing about choosing a word for your year is that it subtly shapes your entire year. You’re not always focusing on your word. You’re not obsessively filtering every thought and experience through your word. But your word ends up being a gentle, formative companion.
And now 2024 leads me to paying attention to my desire.
All the enneagram 9s on the email list have cringed with me. Because they know - as do I - desire is difficult to decipher as an enneagram 9.
All the conservative evangelicals did a little squirm too. My desire? That’s not a good compass. Yeah I’ve got that baggage too.
And yet as my 2024 calendar opened I felt the draw to pay attention to my desire. Or, in my case, hunt for it. Uncover it. Don’t shove it back into the box when it pops it’s little head out asking for my tending.
Why desire? Well, let me tell you what, you don’t start a business without a clear picture of what you want. A vision. A strategy. A dream. A calling. You need that to be successful. Gratefully, this part has begun to come together clearly for me.
But you know what else? You don’t foster your wholeness as a human person without incorporating your desires.
As I asked myself questions about 2024, 2023 told me that I was frustrated, tired, and irritable because I had spent most of the year pretending that I didn’t have any desires. Oops.
I’m writing this on the balcony of a Pensacola hotel looking out at the Gulf of Mexico. I’m here without my husband or kids (paradoxical feelings about that abound) for a family wedding. And I’m here because I feebly let myself say aloud to my husband “I know it might be a stretch, but I would really like to do this.” And then I listed two other things that feel like a stretch and only benefit me.
I’m lucky because I married the best person and he has compassion for what a big deal it is for me to identify something I want and then ask for it - especially when it feels like it’s just for me.
I don’t think leaning into the word desire is always going to get me to a white sandy shoreline, but I do think that this will continue to stretch me. I wonder if this commitment to hunt for my deep down convictions will lead me through this recurring wall? I wonder if it will lead me to having clearer words for you next time I land in your browser tab?
I haven’t a clue, for now.
But I do know I’m standing here, hands open, staring down this wall trying to figure out what I want from it, and what I’ll want after I’ve moved past it.
I hope if you’re finding yourself in a similar season of non-obvious problems that you can extend yourself the grace to be patient. Patient with yourself, and patient with the process.
May you find an anchor, a word, a verse, a friend or clues from the path behind you as you work through this. Know you aren’t alone and this will not last forever.
Here’s to our discovering and our becoming. It is worth the effort.
Do you appreciate Resources like this? Here’s How you can show your support.
Join My Email List
Buy Me Coffee
Buy Me Coffee
Send ☕️