Settling Into the "Already Not Yet": by Adrienne Hawkes
“How is it, now that you are settled in?” For those who uproot their lives from the known to the unknown, this is a common question. Granted, this question typically comes after one to two months, once the unknown has settled and the new life is running smoothly. But can I be honest with you? It seems like with every day that passes I realize there is still more settling that needs to be done.
Weeks 1-2 in Nashville: Survival mode. For those of you who have ever moved, you probably know what this feels like.
Week 3 in Nashville: I went on a shopping spree. It was time to settle in now that I had adjusted to my new surroundings a bit more. I purchased throw pillows, shampoo that cost more than $3.99, and shirts to replace my high school wardrobe. I felt great.
Week 4 in Nashville: I realized that even after my weekend of self-care, I continued to live in a state of flux. How was I only just realizing this? I set my schedule - sleep at 10:30 pm, wake at 6:30 am, devotional, breakfast, coffee, hit the road.
Week 5 in Nashville: There was not one day this week that I successfully followed through with the new schedule. I had failed.
Failed. That feels like a heavy accusation. I failed? Really? For much of my life I have lived with this narrative, the idea that if I cannot achieve my goal of settling into a healthy routine, I have failed. My goodness. Coming out of Week 5, sure, there were ways I could improve my routines, but seriously, the word I choose to describe my week is FAILURE?!? I do not think that I am alone in this narrative. I think this is something we, Christians, and non-Christians alike, tend to believe. “Did I have my morning devotional?” “Did I save enough money this year?” “Did I volunteer my efforts and resources enough these past ten years” Just as it is not inherently wrong to desire consistency in my schedule, these questions are not inherently wrong to propose. But when the answer to the question is “no”, and the immediate conclusion is that you or I have failed, this is where we go wrong.
When I say that I have failed, I am saying that I set the standards to which I must live. I am saying that I determine whether or not my day’s accomplishments were good enough to satisfy the criteria that define a flourishing life. I am saying that in the simple act of falling short of my goals, my entire identity can shift from that of a success to a failure.
Weeks 6-7 in Nashville: I find myself having once again forgotten God’s grace and truth. In striving to settle down, I have attempted to replace what I know as God’s ultimate truth with my small ideas of what my life should look like. In this, I have ignored the reality that in the real truth of the Gospel there is abundant grace.
I am not saying this to bemoan my past few weeks and chastise myself for placing so much pressure on the idea of settling in. I am writing this to say, dear Adrienne, dear brother, dear sister, this simply is not it. We are not there. We have not arrived. We exist in a time called the “already, not yet”; already we have been saved by the bloodshed on the cross, but not yet have we been fully reconciled with our Lord.
So how does this speak to those that are simply trying to settle in like me but are constantly facing the feelings of failure and falling short? First, we must relinquish the idea that we will ever achieve the perfect week. I am not being a Debbie Downer, I promise. Because, in light of eternity and the fact that our Savior will return to make His creation new, we are actually called to not settle in. While we are certainly called to live fully present in the already, our eyes should consistently remain on the not yet. The reason I am not being a Debbie Downer is because of point two, which is as follows. It is tempting to despair on this side of Heaven, to look only at the promise of blissful unity with God and lust after a place where the perfect life may be. But with the hard realization that this life will not be perfect, there is great hope. The promise of what has already been done on the cross in combination with the certainty of what is to come in eternity invites us to a life free from a “success versus failure” mentality. What was done on the cross for me completely alters my identity, and because I know this identity shift is eternal, it is actually impossible for me to fall short in any way that alters my identity. In light of the Gospel, failure is no longer an option. And with this, the pressure to live my perfect life is invited to disappear.
My life isn’t suddenly going to change, I know that I will still set unattainable goals and tell myself that I have failed, but I pray that the Lord continues to allow these words from Romans 5:1-2 to sink deeper into my heart and the heart of my brothers and sisters: “Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we boast in the hope of the glory of God.”
