One of our favorite musicians is Brendan James (check him out here). He’s a soulful piano man playing modest venues across the country. We’ve seen him in concert twice and both were phenomenal. We’re seeing him in concert again next month. We’re fairly excited as it’s been a few years. His 2012 album is titled “Hope in Transition”. The music on the album is excellent, but it’s the title that catches me.
Hope in transition.
And we’ve been in transition. Moving cross country. Leaving family for a new place, new jobs, new community. We spent 4 weeks living with awesome friends, bought a new place, furnished it and improved much of it.
Aside: What is it about Home Depot and Lowe’s that seem to make my mind go blank every time I enter the store? I enter with a mission, but get home to find out I only acquired part of my list and of the items I picked up a couple of them were the incorrect model. Makes for a lot of return trips.
But, there’s something about transition that brings hope? Hope of new direction, new experiences, new challenges, new opportunities, new depth, new beginnings, new life. Hope of strengthening or reengaging positive traits and hope of shedding some negative patterns. Hope of coming back stronger through a season of brokenness. Hope of finding your way after having been lost. Hope of rediscovering joy and uniqueness.
On Brendan James’ Hope in Transition album he has a song titled Heavy Lifting. Part of the chorus reads as follows:
“I sing for you, you broken hearted
I sing for everything to go back where it started
You’ve lost the way, you started drifting
You look ahead and all you see is heavy lifting”
There’s a season where I lost my way. I lost myself. I drifted from my uniqueness, put my head down and embraced the status quo, joined the masses and forgot that I’m weird. I drifted. Getting back to living out of who I am, the unique way in which I see the world and engage others won’t be easy. It will be heavy lifting, but in that transition there’s hope. Not hope to become who I was, but hope to lean into who I am.
So, tomorrow we drive across country one last time to complete this move. And in this transition, I have great hope. Not that it will be easy, but the heavy lifting will be worth the work.