This is for everyone living in the in-between spaces of life. In-between the big idea getting accepted and the daily sketching, in-between jobs or significant others or homes—this is where most of our living actually happens—in the humble places of before and after.
In the in-between spaces, there aren't fans or even fanfare. Most people feel as if they're holding their breath, waiting until they get that 'thing' before they allow themselves to exhale.
In the past year, I've found myself once again, living in the in-between. It’s cramped, squishy. I’m too big for here, but not quite big enough for 'there' yet. I have so much to say, but no words yet to do my thoughts justice.
In-between is hard because in this space, our hands are empty. We’ve let go of the thing we were holding onto, but we haven’t grasped the promise of what’s to come yet…and what is to come? Well, none of us really know. All we have is our faith and sometimes our faith is a thin veil that leaves us shivering in nakediddity, vulnerable and exposed. What have managed to carry away within us is stored safely inside, a deep well of hopes and dreams, wishes and goals, promises to ourselves that things won’t always be this way.
Instead of yearning for what might be years away still, and instead of mourning what’s perceived as loss, what if we learn to live—really live—in the in-between spaces of life, contentedly, in the here and now? What if we buy that fabulous dress 2 sizes larger than what we one day home to wear? What if we lean into the aloneness of a single life and learn to revel in ourselves for a season? What if we choose to celebrate the goodness in the stressful day job, just for today?
It takes so much brave to live like this—to thrive even if. To be okay without what we think we need, what we feel we deserve. It’s only by living in want this year, that I am learning to feel comfortable with the empty spaces of my life. There’s almost an embarrassment in the vulnerability of being in this in-between life—it borders on shame—that there is something missing in my life and that somehow this lack has something to do with the fact that I’m not enough, and that if I WERE enough, this lack would be filled. My nakedness would be covered, my aloneness would be partnered.
Yet nothing could be further from the truth. For it’s in these hollow spaces that we are holy—set apart for the purposes God has set out before us. Hallowed and hollow. It’s the spaces that fill us. Yes, if we let them. To be loved and to love, to be whole in our lack. These are the mysteries that deepen us and call to us. In the in-between.