We are on a break
I’ve been off Facebook since the beginning of January and off Instagram, Twitter, and Pinterest since the third week of January.
It’s equal parts self-imposed banishment and spiritual fast with my church, The Belonging Co in Nashville. Our church does an annual Daniel Fast at the start of each year and I felt I needed to include my access to social information and news sites on my list of things to remove from my daily consumption.
Along with all forms of dairy, animal meats, caffeine, and flour, I have not had a taste of my social media feeds or go-to news sources.
It’s been glorious.
I’ve been shockingly okay without my regular two to three cups of coffee each day and knowing who did what and when. I do miss pasta and bread and my beloved cheeseburgers from McDonald’s but I have to admit I feel incredibly lighter and far less gassy and bloated.
(Yes. I went there.)
I’m learning that my body may be telling me I need to make some permanent lifestyle changes because what I’m doing now during this fast is making it feel better.
I’m learning that I don’t really need to know what everyone is doing at every given moment because I don’t need to compare my life to theirs.
I’m learning that in this season of pseudo-isolation, I’m trusting God more deeply, fully, and fearlessly.
Being homeless has turned into a “season of transition of waiting for God to send me on my next adventure.”
Being broke has turned into a “season of hitting rock bottom so God alone can provide for everything that I need without using credit cards.”
Being single has turned into a “season of untethered and unencumbered adventure to go anywhere at any moment.”
I’m on a break from what I thought my life was, which I didn’t really know what it was after my daughter married and started her own family five years ago.
I’m in the middle of being readied for the next phase of my Empty Nest Life. What’s more accurate is that I’m being kicked out of this Nest I created and like a baby bird, I’m frantically flapping my wings.
This fast is showing me that my wings are ready to fly.
No small child or permanent address to tie me down is the perfect foundation for a life of spontaneity. And it helps that my stuff is down to four plastic bins, a mattress, and a car.
Just yesterday a friend asked if I could house sit for her this March. It’ll be my third place and fifth fur baby to watch this year. I couldn’t do this a year ago let alone imagine myself couch surfing and pet sitting for friends.
Yet here I am almost fifty and living like a twenty-something. What will my next chapter look like?
I don’t know for sure but what I do know is that I’ll take each day as it comes knowing that everything will work out. And there will be cheeseburgers and ice cream. That much I’m sure of.