It has been a very long time since I shared on this blog.  Not that I didn’t want to or didn’t sit and try to pen words; I did, quite a few times.  The words didn’t come easily though.  This has been a season of processing and living the lessons, rather than putting them on paper and posting them for the world to see.  Quite some time ago, I promised that this blog spot would be a place to share when I felt the need to share – not just for the sake of posting- and this has been a season when the sharing has been on hold.

This morning, as I had breakfast and drank my coffee (yes, it was coffee morning rather than a tea morning), I felt the release to write. So here I sit, pen and paper in hand, Christmas lights on in the window, and time to share the things the Lord has put on my heart.

This year I turned 50 – a milestone birthday – a cause for celebration and reflection. Early in the year, as I thought about my upcoming day, I was reminded that in the Bible, the 50^th year was a year of Jubilee.  A year to give back the things that were taken. A year to receive release and restoration.  From time to time this would come to mind as I anticipated my 50^th birthday celebration.

One morning, after my birthday celebrations with family and friends, as I was praying, I reminded God that this was my year of jubilee.  I asked him for the release.  The release from the fatigue and responsibility of caregiving, from the weight of the physical and emotional strain. The release from a lifetime of working for healing in my life.  At the time, I thought it quite a clever prayer.  How could God say no to my request?

I sat in the quiet for some time, but the answer did not come that morning.  Quite honestly, I didn’t think of it again for a few days.  One night, late, after a particularly gruelling day, as I lay awake long after I should have been asleep, the thought of Jubilee came to mind. At that moment, out of the stillness of the darkness, there was a soft reply, “This is your release.” 

Hummmm, I should have known the answer I was waiting for would require some thought on my part.  “This is your release” – What is my release?  This being awake at 2 am?  This full-time caregiving?  This inability to work or even get out of the house most days?  This constant question of “Am I doing this right”? This soul-searching, gut-wrenching work of healing body, soul and mind? These non-stop days? The cat who gets needier by the moment and loves to scream until he gets what he wants?  The isolation? The sense that nothing actually makes sense? The roles of Nurse, wife, chief cook and bottle washer, and entertainment director?

Though these questions sound like they may have come from a bitter spirit, they did not.  As I stayed very still in the dark and whispered over and over again, “This is my release”, these questions came out softly, like those sheep you should count at night, jumping over a fence.  “What is my release?” – as I ran through a list of the current days, sorting one by one – “Do you mean this, or perhaps this, or maybe even this?”  Holding each thought gently in my hands and lifting them towards the heavens for the Lord to inspect. 

There was no answer that night, but I did slowly drift off to sleep.

Since that night, many months ago, I have, from time to time, run the question through my mind, over my tongue and through my fingers – “this is my release.”  One day I even spoke it out loud with an emphasis on the different words – just to feel it out.

“THIS is my release”

“This IS my release”

“This is MY release”

“This is my RELEASE”

Other than making me smile in the process, I didn’t learn anything new in using this technique.

This morning, as I marvelled at the fact that it is already close to the end of November and the year is drawing to a close, I thought about this 50th year. “This is your release.” 

I understood that today I have been released to reflect and to share because I have allowed myself many months to live the release first.

I immediately wondered – how would I be able to express the living out of this year of Jubilee, this release that won’t be tamed into mere words on a page?

I began to ask God – “What is my release”?  As I sat very still and whispered over and over again, “What is my release”, these questions came out softly, once again, like those sheep you should count at night jumping over a fence.  “What is my release?” – as I ran through a list of the current days, sorting one by one – “Do you mean this, or perhaps this, or maybe even this?”  Holding each thought gently in my hands and lifting them towards the heavens for the Lord to inspect. 

Is it that I have learned:

• That food tastes so much better, not when it is take-out, expensive, or fancy, but rather when it is simple, eaten slowly and enjoyed – when I have taken the time to think about what I like to eat, I make it colourful, and I feed myself when I am hungry- when it is no longer a line to check off my to-do list – when I am intentional about enjoying the planning, the cooking and then the food itself.
• That sleep is a gift, rather than just a requirement for functioning the next day – that laying quietly and resting is sometimes as good as a full sleep – that afternoon naps on rainy days are to be enjoyed, not used to induce unnecessary guilt – that a cat nap may mean a 15-minute nap or just resting in the recliner, eyes closed, with a cat laying on top of you – that squeezing in my husband’s hospital bed beside him in the middle of the day, counts as a rest and is often more important than housework -that for me, sleepless nights sometimes are an indicator that I haven’t had a good and honest chat with God lately – and that I can and should take the time to wrap all my worries, concerns, and heavy lifting in a nice little package, put a bow on it and hand it over to Jesus before I even attempt to close my eyes at night.
• That Christmas lights can go up in all my windows in late October because they are pretty and make me smile – and I don’t need to worry about who is looking or what they are thinking – there are no rules about choosing the things that are lifegiving in a dark and wet season (in real-time or figuratively).
• That, one benefit to this current “dark and rainy” fall season in New Brunswick, is that I can leave my Christmas lights on all day and night and enjoy them.
• That exercise feels good when you don’t actually feel like it; or when you are doing it because you are prioritizing your health in this season rather than because someone said you should be exercising; when you know you are worth the half hour a day; when you learn that a walk in the woods is more restorative than a full nights sleep; when you begin to see the difference in your mood, body and thinking.
• That you can wear your “comfy clothes” (including pj’s) all the time, whether you have company in the house or not – that there are days when you will want to “dress up” even though you are not leaving the house, and that there is something wonderful about catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and thinking “oh wow, I am having a cute day!”
• That productivity purely for the sake of producing is overrated and unhealthy – that there is no shame in a to-do list having the same items listed for many days in a row without ever getting checked off – that your purpose will look different in each season – that full-time caregiving at home is just as important and satisfying as working as a professional caregiver outside the home – that every skill I am using in this season will be transferrable to work God has for me in other seasons -that nothing is a waste.
• That, every one of us has incorporated lies about who we are, who we are supposed to be and who we are going to be, into the foundation of our lives – that it is not only important but a must, to identify and dismantle those lies about ourselves, our friends and family, strangers, God, the world and how things work – so we can reinforce our foundations with truth and find healing for ourselves, others and the world.
• That, having a good laugh (or a good cry) can change your perspective on just about any situation.
• That yard work, dirt, planting seeds, watching things grow, pushing your body to be outside doing easy things or hard things, and enjoying the fruit of our labour, also plants the seeds of joy and gratitude deep in our hearts and souls.
• That an evening of sappy Netflix Christmas movies (even if I figured out the whole storyline in the first 2 minutes) and crocheting is good for a rest, a bit of a cry, a few smiles, perspective, and quality time with the cat
• That, the care, compassion, empathy, love, intimacy and connection that has been available to me in this season of darkness, loss, grief, and difficult demands, are gifts I could not have experienced apart from these things I would never have chosen for myself.
• That the year of Jubilee would require me to give away things I was holding on to that I no longer required
• That the release I asked for and the release God spoke of, would not mean avoiding the fire or the flood but learning to walk through holding the hand of the very one who promised me I would see the other side.
• That the release would not mean avoiding the dark but learning to shine despite the dark
• That there are levels of joy and peace and healing that I could never have experienced apart from the valley of the shadow of death.

This is your release.

This 50^th year is my year to give back the things I choose to carry, that were never really mine, were built on lies or no longer serve me.  This 50^th year is my year to receive the release and restoration God has for me. This 50^th is my year to pass through rather than stay stuck in.  I am walking through the valley of the shadow of death without fear because He is with me.

THIS is your release!

This is MY release!