All throughout my twenties, I was involved in an extroverted, evangelical ministry. It took me a long time to realize that I didn’t really fit there. I remember the moment it was clear to me, though it would take years more for me to act on it. I was at a retreat, and the speaker, an Anglican priest, was talking about solitude. I don’t remember what he said; I remember the way he talked about faith and spirituality and how his way of being made me feel. And I remember feeling, from my head to my toes, that everything in me naturally leaned towards this contemplative way of being.

When I look back now, it all makes sense. Part of my childhood was growing up in Tokyo, where contemplative ways of being abound. And then later on, as a newer Christian, I can remember devouring books and how I would find my way to books by Henri Nouwen and other contemplative Christians without knowing they were named as such, and feel so at home in their words. All of it confirms what’s always been true of me:

I’m a contemplative soul.

When it comes to fashion, sometimes we try on lots of styles before we understand what colors and cuts fit our skin tone and body shape. Plus, our bodies shift and change over time. And sometimes we just plain change our mind about what we like and don’t like. It’s natural to want to look back and feel annoyed or upset at entire decades or seasons of the seemingly wrong fit, and wonder, why did I wear that? Or, why did I think I fit there? 

But there’s another way to look back at our younger selves. A gentler, kinder, and more helpful way to see and receive who we were then and who we are becoming now is to embrace how it’s all connected. We can acknowledge how something didn’t fit quite right, how we tried to wear it anyway, and also acknowledge the layers, nuance, and grace woven within those times. Styles, jobs, and dare I say political leanings can make sense for us for a time, and not for us forever.

Do you ever feel too old or too far along in whatever you are entrenched in to take a step towards coming home to yourself?

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to listen to the core of who God made you to be?

I’ve needed all these decades, these starts and stops, and life transitions to be right where I am today. It’s taken over four decades for me to be ready to start school and be trained as a Spiritual Director – a new journey and one that’s been an invisible odyssey in the making. I’m only a couple of months in and yet, over and over again, I find myself exhaling. All of it feels like one little homecoming after another. I am not too late. God’s shalom is not bound by the lies of “too late”, “too old”, and “should be by now”.

No matter how old we are, or what kind of season of life we are in, we can always take a step towards our own becoming.

God’s shalom — His wholeness and restoration — is always tending to our becoming.

God’s shalom is always reaching for our true selves, reminding us how intricately and intentionally we’ve been created in love.

Since the start of 2024, I’ve been carrying a breath prayer around and I’ve needed it all year so far. It’s a reminder that brings me back to the core of who I am and was inspired by Romans 12:9 in The Message, which reads, “Love from the center of who you are, don’t fake it.”

Pray this with me:

I can love from the center of who I am (breathe in)
I don’t have to fake it (breathe out)

May we lean into the center of who we are and who we’ve been created to be.

It’s not too late to lean into God’s shalom at work in your soul and your story.

Whatever your age and season in life, what part of your true self is reaching out from the core of who you are?  Through each twist and turn, how are you still becoming?

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