Adulthood | Wayfarer

Now Elisha had been suffering from the illness from which he died. Jehoash king of Israel went down to see him and wept over him.
2 Kings 13:14 (NIV)

As I have progressed in my life journey, the more aware I have become of the flow of seasons of life. From our current waypoint on the road of life, Wendy and I find ourselves in a season in which we are walking with parents and a grandparent as they walk ahead of us on life’s homestretch. We also have children on the road behind us in the busy years of establishing careers, parenting little children, and hanging on as life traverses the roller coaster peaks and valleys of adulthood.

When I was parenting our daughters, I endeavored to engage and enjoy every stage of their development. This meant embracing the ups and downs of diapers and Disney princesses, boy bands and body changes, hair days and horomones. Of course, I found some stages personally more enjoyable than others. Yet by choosing to embrace each stage of development, I learned to both love the journey in every season as well as appreciate more fully the women they’ve become.

Along the way, I’ve found that my spiritual journey also has its seasons. There have been seasons of tremendous spiritual growth when God seemed to be doing amazing things in my life all the time. There have been seasons that have felt like a trek through Death Valley when everything felt dry and I was desperate for an oasis. There have been seasons of planting, seasons of storms, seasons of wandering, seasons of change, and seasons of abundance.

Today’s chapter tells of the reigns of Kings Jehoahaz and Joash of the northern tribes of Israel. In the middle of the chapter, it mentions the prophet Elisha for the first time since back in the ninth chapter. Given the dates and the lengths of the reign of Israel’s kings, Elisha has not been part of the story for some 43 years.

I meditated on this in the quiet this morning. Through the days of Ahab and Jezebel, the prophets Elijah and Elisha were central figures in the story. They called down fire from heaven, raised the dead, performed breathtaking miracles, and were central players in the highest level of politics.

Then, with the end of Ahab and Jezebel’s dynasty, Elisha exits stage right and is not heard from again for over four decades when he is called back on stage for his death scene.

I have observed both in myself and in others, the expectation that life has some sort of predictable trajectory. There certainly are general stages of this life that most people experience with some broad commonalities. Within that, however, I’ve found there to be tremendous ebb and flow.

We forget that Jesus spent only three years in ministry. He spent thirty years in obscurity growing, learning, and then plying his father’s carpentry trade.

Moses spent 40 years as a shepherd before God called him to lead the Hebrews out of slavery.

Elisha and Elijah were raised up to be God’s mouthpiece during the reigns of Ahab, Jezebel, and their descendants. It was a period of some 36 years. Then Elisha disappears from the scene. Was God done with him? Certainly not. He simply entered a different season of life.

I’ve come to understand that part of the spiritual journey is embracing every season of that journey, just as I tried to embrace each season of our daughters’ development. There have been seasons of excitement and seasons of grind. There are seasons of mountaintop vistas and seasons of slogging through the desert. There have been seasons in the spotlight and seasons in the wings.

Two things I have done no matter the season in which I find myself:

First, I stick with my daily relational touchpoints with God and others. I spend time in the quiet. I read the Great Story. I have conversations with God. I stay connected with an inner circle of others with whom I share the journey.

Second, I constantly remind myself what the sage of Ecclesiastes wrote: “There is a season for every purpose under heaven.” If I can trust the Story and God’s purposes for me in it, then I can press on through each and every season knowing that it’s somehow preparing me for the next season.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Today’s featured image was created with Wonder AI.

“Oh, for the days when I was in my prime,
when God’s intimate friendship blessed my house,
when the Almighty was still with me
and my children were around me….”
Job 29:4-5 (NIV)

I had to be careful when I came up to my office this morning. Madison flew home yesterday for a brief pre-Christmas visit (she has to be on-call for work next week), and both bedrooms upstairs across from my office are occupied with sleeping angels. As I tip-toed up the dark stairway my mind was occupied with thoughts of the days when that was a regular morning occurrence. I remember going through a period of grief right after Madison moved out and the nest was truly empty.

And then, in a moment of vague synchronicity, I get to my office and open my MacBook to read Job’s words pasted at the top of this post. I get that Job is lamenting a loss that was far more extreme and infinitely more dire. That’s the cool thing about God’s Message. It meets you where you are in the moment.

In this moment I feel the bitter-sweetness of aging.

I watch my girls riding the roller coaster of young adulthood. One moment they express to me the excitement of independence and adventure that accompanies that stage of life’s journey. After years of parental guidance (and/or repression), they are living their own lives. They can go where they want and do what they want, whenever they want to do it. And, they can legally drink adult beverages while doing it (except for our acquired young adult, Suzanna, who still has a year or two for that one!). And then, the next moment they express to me the terror, doubts, and insecurities that accompany the realities of finishing school, finding jobs, navigating the health care system, and making ends meet. Welcome to life, sweetie.

For the record, I look at my life currently and realize that I’m on the same roller coaster ride. My car is just over-the-hill. One moment I express the excitement of independence and adventure that accompanies this stage of life’s journey. After years of parental responsibilities with children and teenagers, Wendy and I can once again go where we want and when we want whenever we want to do it. We even have the added blessing of financial resources to enjoy a few things for the first time in our lives. And, we can still legally drink adult beverages while doing it. And then, the next moment I experience the terror, doubts, and insecurities that accompany the realities of a body that doesn’t work the way it used to, hanging onto a job, and planning for retirement that suddenly doesn’t seem so far away. I carry concerns about the parents ahead of us on life’s road, and carry more concern than I thought I would about those young adult children following behind.

C’est la vie. It is what it is.

On this particular December morning, however, both rooms across the hall from my office are occupied with sleeping angels. And, while I miss the one angel who slumbers across the ocean, this morning feels a lot like “old times.” And, for that, I’m thankful (and hanging on for that next hill).