On being a beginner

A writer I follow recently asked this question: What is one word you’re holding onto as we move into February?

My answer: BEGINNER

I’ve never been a mom to four kids before.

I’ve never attempted re-entry from maternity leave before.

I’ve never introduced a newborn baby to friends and loved ones during a pandemic before.

I’ve never tried to balance a desire to write and a round-the-clock feeding schedule before.

I’ve never had a two-year-old in leg braces before.

I’ve never had to choose a school for an almost-kindergartener who is on the spectrum before.

I really love exceeding (my self-imposed, often-unreasonably-high) expectations on the first try. Admitting to being a beginner is hard for me. But I’ve been a beginner enough times to know that God will meet me in this season where my weakness is not so easily hidden, that he is equally present as I figure things out by multiple trials and errors as he was in my fruitful rhythms and routines of the previous season. I watch and wait for him to meet me in ways that are new, certainly, but also familiar.

He will continue to give me life by his Spirit through his Word—even if the time, space, method, and warmth of the coffee I drink while reading is different.

He will continue to meet me through his Church—even if we have to drop off meals in coolers, delay baby snuggles, wave through the front window, and send texts of encouragement instead of words spoken face-to-face.

He will continue to reveal himself to me through his creation—even though a hike three weeks postpartum sounds like the least fun thing imaginable.

He will continue to renew me through solitude and silence—even though quiet moments are hard to come by in our house these days.

He will continue to sustain me and unite himself to me through his Body and Blood, broken for us—even if I can’t receive the bread and the wine at an actual table while standing side by side with his people.

I continue to ask: What new thing is God inviting me into as a beginner? And how might he do that in all the familiar ways?

And I wonder, in the circumstances and seasons that feel unfamiliar in your life, what is his familiar invitation to you?