Learning a New Rhythm of Life

It’s Lent. Often during this season I undertake some type of fast, setting aside a habit or a routine from my normal rhythm of life in order to focus more on God. 

But this year — my first as an empty-nest mom — my rhythm of life is thumping to a different beat. And in this new normal I’m having trouble deciding what to set aside, and what to offer more intentionally to God.

Can I admit how odd it feels to be so out of cadence with my previous self? Why should my life’s rhythm change so significantly just because my kids are now adults, both happily married and out on their own?

If you’ll indulge my self-analysis, I believe there are two reasons.

I’m in mourning

As thankful as I am for the maturity and self-assuredness my kids are embracing, a very tiny part of my soul mourns their independence. They don’t need me like they once did. Although that is the natural order of things —the de facto goal of parenting— I am carrying grief at the change.

At the end of my daughter’s wedding reception last summer, the guests flanked the terrace to send the bride and groom off under an arch of sparklers. Per newlywed dictate, both sets of parents were at the end of the line so we could be the last to hug the couple before their getaway. 

After waving them off, I lingered to say goodbye to several guests, and ended up walking alone across the deserted terrace and back into the reception hall. With each footfall, the perfect happiness of the day slid away and a bewildering grief stole over me. 

By the time I stepped inside, my lower lip was trembling and tears streamed down my face. My best friend had hung back to wait for me, and I flung myself at her. She hugged me with wordless comfort as I sobbed, “She’s gone, she’s gone,” into her shoulder. 

Bewildering indeed. My rational self was astounded by the tsunami of emotion that hit me after saying goodbye to my girl, and I’m not sure yet that I’ve processed it all.

Even good griefs disrupt our normal rhythms.

My mindset is shifting

For most of my life I’ve described myself as a Christian wife and mother. Launching my adult children doesn’t negate those roles. I am still wholly invested in my family. Although my input is not required in the capacity it once was, I am not unneeded. And, I can explore new ways to contribute. 

This is a shift from the mindset I expected as an empty nest parent. Instead of losing who I am, I can expand who I will be. 

I’ve spent the last few months contemplating new ways to use my gifts to serve others. In pondering all the possibilities however, my focus has turned inward. I’ve become preoccupied with the dreaming instead of getting on with the doing. 

Even good prospects distract from our normal rhythms.

The key to my Lenten fast

Some Christians describe Lent as a season of “bright sadness.” What a perfect description of the pulse of life in my empty nest right now.

Lent is traditionally a time to pray, fast, and reflect in preparation for Easter. A time to mourn our sinful ways, and a time to shift our minds towards the promised hope of everlasting life in Christ.

Perhaps the key to my Lenten fast lies between mourning and mindset.

What if I set aside my self-absorbed, self-centered preoccupation with my future?

What if I offer God my bewildering grief over the natural progression of parenting?

Setting aside the distraction and offering up the disruption will allow me to renew my focus on God. Then, as I read his Word, pray, and reflect, he can reestablish his heartbeat in my life. 

That is a rhythm I can learn to follow.