Between Two Moons

Something happened to me between two moons. Actually, it is an always happening more than a one time thing , but maturity is revealing the pattern to me. That’s right, this Metis girl can finally pull out the cliche “Many moons ago”….actually 48 first  spring full moons…and still counting.

I have been on a path of seeking personal growth and I want to grow and be amazing , you know, with out the growing pains.

With out the pruning.

With out the dying to self.

With out the cracking open.

I simply want to have this beautiful blossoming, but my suburbian self has forgotten the gardening process. It is embarrassing really. Six years in the suburbs with little , contrived 2 x 8 patches of earth to plant and I have lost touch with how to garden. Not an excuse I know, but I am blaming it on the crowded house effect that has me spending too much time in my minivan, shopping at big box stores and piling up packaging in my recycle bin.

I have lost touch.

I have lost perspective.

I have put my faith in something other than the gardener.

What do the two moons have to do with this? Well I could not really put my finger on it until yesterday, the first full moon of spring. I had been going through a very difficult time and had been praying and seeking and reading and writing and sorting through some tough things. I had prayed for God to remove some things in my life that keep me from living wholeheartedly. I had prayed for a deeper, more authentic  relationship with God and I simply wanted Him to reach in magically make it so.

Instead, He planted me in darkness and asked me to trust the process. Like a little seed in the deep, dark soil, I sat waiting not knowing if I would ever see the light again. The dark was scary for me and it felt completely out of control, which is EXACTLY where God wanted me to be.

Letting go of control

Leaning into the unknown

In complete surrender to the process 

I sat in darkness grieving, but completely unsure of what it was I was grieving. Does the rose bush know why its branches are being severed fruit, thorns and all?  Probably not and either did I , but some big things were being trimmed out and I had to trust the process. It was painful, this letting go of tired old branches that felt necessary.

Perfectionism

Retreating

Shrinking

Believing my voice did not matter

It all had to go in order for prayer to be answered, for me to grow new, more lovelier branches of myself AND I had to grieve. I had to lean into sadness which is so very contrary to my perfectionist ways and yet so completely necessary in order to fully experience my joy.

In between the harvest moon  of autumn and the first full moon of spring I experienced a letting go so that I could be replanted freshly in new, rich soil. My heart has had to be cracked open so the nutrient rich word could seep in and begin its sprouting. This first full moon of spring has drawn a renewal, a rebirth, a sprouting towards the warmth of the sun  and God answers prayer like how He grows all of creation. With new strength I push up out of darkness and soak up the gentle spring rain  and know that all is grace.

 

 

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