That’s how I would describe my past two years.
I started out standing on stage each night with a huge sign behind me displaying the word “Rewind,” the theme of my first tour, only to walk off and hit fast-forward again. Before I knew it I was embarking on a second journey with SRT on the “One Night Stand” tour, though it was more like 77 nights of running and trying to do 15 things at one time - anything but one night of just standing. I completed the same lengthy to-do list every show day and didn’t stop moving until my head hit the pillow, usually sometime after midnight. I spent hours on a bus or in a truck as the numbers on the odometer rose quickly by the thousands.
(It is clear now that I was rather naive two years ago in committing to blogging my way across the country, so again I find myself apologizing for the silence. Updating family and friends on my travels was much easier through pictures. Oh, the beauty of Instagram.)
But somehow, in the midst of the frenzy, that is where I found the most peace. And it was a peace I had never experienced before. Peace, to me, always meant quiet and relaxation, no demanding schedule or expectations to meet. Just…calm. Now, however, I have come to redefine this idea of peace - or rather suggest that there is more than one way to achieve it.
On the road, there was no such thing as alone time. I spent every single day with 11 other people. Pretty much the only place one could be alone was the bathroom. In fact, one girl I traveled with would often take her Bible and lock herself in a hotel bathroom for an hour, reading, praying and singing. At first I thought she was crazy, but after many days when there seemed to be no escape from the noise, I came to understand her chosen sanctuary.
My chosen sanctuary?
The back corner of a crowded bus.
Headphones in.
Volume loud enough to drown out my surroundings.
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| (Believe it or not, this was not posed. Sometimes it was a shared sanctuary...and my awesome seat partner and I clearly think a lot alike. Haha) |
Due to physical and mental exhaustion, it was definitely a battle at times to pick up my Bible and journal and spend that time with God instead of just spacing out or trying to sleep. And I’ll admit, sometimes I lost the fight. But it was there in that corner that I most often came face to face with the Prince of Peace Himself and felt that I could truly fall into his arms and just…breathe. It didn’t matter how loud the current driver felt he or she needed to blare their music in order to stay awake. Or how many people felt the need to jump up and display their dance moves in the isle. Or how important that conversation between one person in the front of the bus and another in the back was that made it absolutely necessary to yell instead of leaving their seats. In those sacred moments, nothing could distract me from the pure peace I was experiencing.
After two years of such a life style, I had certainly grown quite accustomed to retreating and focusing in the midst of such chaos. So much so that finding the same peace at home became a problem.
I have been off tour for about a month and a half now, and I can only describe what I experienced as culture shock. Sure, I’ve visited home on breaks, but I think the knowledge of that crazy chapter finally being over changed things this time around.
I started to hate silence. I have spent so much of this summer so far home alone, both of my parents at work and my sister off doing her teenage thing with friends and practices almost every day. I’ve had ample time on my hands and the freedom to do whatever I want to do with my days.
But the scenery looks the same every day. No big, new city to explore. No schedule laid out for me. No sea of friends surrounding me. That means there’s NOTHING to do, right?
So I rediscovered TV. And it’s magnetic powers. And how comfortable my living room couch could be while catching up on my DVR library. I spent more time thinking about who I could make plans with, where we could go and what we could do, than I did thinking about how perfect of an opportunity I had to just spend time with the Lord.
I had forgotten how to be alone. I forgot how to enjoy the sunshine in the privacy of my back yard. I forgot the joys of spending hours with my nose in a good book while sipping on a glass of lemonade on the deck. I forgot how relaxing it was to sit behind my keyboard for hours and patiently teach myself an art I've always admired. I forgot how much I love journaling and talking to God about all that I’m learning and how I’m growing. Of course I couldn’t really learn much to write about having also forgotten how beautiful my old, worn Bible is without a layer of dust on it’s cover. I forgot how to live a normal life. Even more so, how to invite Jesus into my new normal and find the peace at home that I’d had on the road.
It’s taken some very intentional quiet times to find a new routine again. Some days I find myself still lacking motivation. But I am slowly moving out of a place of unsettledness to a new peace. Without the chaos. I am learning how to just be and hear God in the silence. I am finding new reasons to appreciate this foreign concept of alone time and make the most of it.
I am about to start a new chapter, moving to Slippery Rock and spending a year as a live-in nanny for a wonderful family. I will be stationary for once. Each week looking much like the last. The scenery remaining the same. With more alone time while the kids are in school than I ever had on the road. And a new kind of peace to go along with it.
My life is anything but normal. I’ve accepted that. But in this next season, I’m going to find normal. And I’m going to embrace it for as long as I have it. At least for a little while… ;)
