Maaan, this week, my heart’s stuck on MOVEMENT.

What is movement?

What have I defined movement as?

How do you define movement?

From a young age, I can remember my mom using the expression “God doesn’t move parked cars” and from that, I always equated movement with literal movement…STEPS, action, doing, actively pursuing something. I always equated it as a good thing. Moving was a good thing. If I wasn’t moving, I was doing something wrong.

The whole pandemic, I struggled with this word “movement.” That childhood reference would stir guilt in me time and time again…I’m not moving, something’s wrong. I’m not seeing anything happening…what’s the matter with me? I had a lot of guilt. Because I didn’t feel like I was moving – in any capacity. I wasn’t working. Words and thoughts weren’t downloading enough for me to blog my experience. In the beginning, LoveMo wasn’t really moving. I felt as though I was parked. I can remember sitting on my therapist’s couch, multiple times, uttering these words… “I feel stagnant, like I’m not moving.” And over and over again, she’d challenge me to study the word movement and to define it, and then to consider – and maybe learn to accept – new definitions, and even expectations, of movement for my life.

“Sometimes not moving is a form of movement,” she’d say to get me to understand that sometimes stillness is necessary in order for things to surface. For them to MOVE on the inside of you. Ahhh, and being back at work has been such an incredibly eye-opening example of just how much was MOVING on the inside of me. Shifting. Growing. Breaking. Healing. So much more than my eye could see.

So from Monday to Friday, I’m feeling this heavy sense of my awareness of the movement that’s happened over the last year and half. And it’s building with each day. A lot to carry. A lot to begin processing. I was scheduled to sneak away to Arizona for the weekend and unfortunately, I had to pull the plug on that trip. As I began to sit in the guilt of pulling out of a vacation 48 hours before the plane took off, things started to MOVE. And honestly, God orchestrated some pretty phenomenal encounters this weekend. With people I needed. With messages I needed to hear. With conversations I needed to rest in. With clarity for my circumstances this week. And if I thought Monday to Friday awakened a sense of awareness to movement that’s happened over the last year, well this weekend awakened an awareness of the movement happening RIGHT NOW.

God is orchestrating, but you know what’s funny? I’m so overcome with emotion (and no, not crying emotion – just general #allthefeels emotion) that I’m NOT moving. I went the entirety of the pandemic praying and begging for movement and right now – in this very moment – I’m so paralyzed by what I’m feeling about moving that ultimately I’m not moving, if that makes sense. Instead, I’m just resting in the whole thought of movement.

And the way God moves.

And the way I move.

And the way I choose not to move when I’m overwhelmed.

And it makes me think about all the reasons God has for non-movement – not that He’s ever overwhelmed, but because He’s orchestrating so much at one time and He needs that moment of pause and He needs me to be in that moment of pause too before He can align everything.

Just a random Monday ramble on movement…

Thanks for listening in.