31 Days of the Almost Empty Nest: Falling Star


It’s hard to get out of bed on these chilly mornings but the dawn holds her own rewards. That dusty rose around the horizon, the many eyes of the sky peering down, scent of leaves and moisture in the air. I stand out in the dew-soaked grass with Bonnie and tilt my head up, up, up, let the feeling of smallness fall over me and captivate.

If I’m going to catch a falling star, I must be alert for it’s free-fall.

Last night when we were walking, I confided to Jeff a feeling of dissatisfaction deep within me lately. “I know I’m tired, and work is frustrating, but it just feels like nothing is as it should be.”

He wondered aloud if I was feeling some of what he went through last year.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Maybe you’re wondering what is next. And realizing that maybe it’s nothing. Maybe there is no next thing.”

He was speaking existentially, meaning-of-life kind of talk and I considered it. We’ve had a few losses in that area over the past few years. So we talked about our work and the things that bring us joy and isn’t there always the next thing? This talk helped me realize that my dissatisfaction is coming from feeling like I’ve been taken advantage of lately. From people—one in particular—not God, not the universe.

In light of Jeff’s question, I also considered my disappointment in my book publishing journey—how it hasn’t led where I’d hoped, how my life hasn’t changed significantly because those words were written down and bound between pages. I am grateful for the experience and for the community I have found along the way, but I’ll just admit I’ve had to readjust my hopes. Because I believe every part of life is holy, this hasn’t been a huge day-to-day shift. I trust God enough to open my hands to where he leads. But in terms of the next thing, it has been huge.

So I’ve been asking myself if I trust God that much. Do I trust that he will still use me, even if it is in different ways than I had hoped?

Yes. Yes I do.

If I want to catch a falling star, I must be alert. Sometimes, endings are new beginnings in disguise.

This post is part of my 31 Days of the Almost Empty Nest series. I’m writing in community with the thirty-one dayers. Women all over the world are joining together in the month of October to write every day about something they’re passionate about. Check out some of the other writers here. So much good stuff. To read my first post, with links to all the days, go here.

Almost Empty


  1. says

    Totally get this. Learning to live with what is, accept it, even embrace it — that’s a tough gig some days. And so often, what is is a co-worker or friend who takes advantage, disappointment in a dream, realizing life is more than half over. None of this is easy. But oh, it is good. Eventually. Hang in, friend. You’re such a good one.

  2. says

    Oh sweet friend of mine – your words drip poetry, you are beauty stacked upon beauty, truth piled high, and love melted around it all.

    Our worth is not in what we think others think about us, it is not in what the numbers say about us — rather our value is in what we believe God says about us. And He says you are beloved, perfect, whole, righteous.

    • says

      Darlene is so right! Darlene, thank you for your beautiful comment. Yes, He does see us as worthy, perfect and beautiful. And He works things out in His perfect time.

      I believe that if we could see ourselves as God sees us, we’d never have to seek approval again.

  3. says

    Endings are new beginnings. That truth sits soul deep, like the marrow in my bones.The best beginnings are the ones which require sacrifice. So they don’t feel best at the start. The blessing comes, like the opening of a flower. Brilliant unto the day. When you catch the star, Laura, hold it with an open hand.


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