The Path of Grace in Every Season

I can do anything for a season.

 This became my survival mantra during a particularly difficult season in 2016 after a 600-mile move from Pennsylvania to South Carolina, downsizing from a 2,000–square-foot house to a 1,200-square-foot condo, a change in vocation (and drastic cut in income) for my husband, and me leaving a job where I was thriving.

My mantra seemed like a necessary survival tool during that upending season. At first, I felt empowered. Just go ahead and pass me my Superwoman cape, thank you. Let’s do this!

In times of turmoil, we typically engage survival tactics that are extremely helpful for that particular context. But once the crisis has ended, it usually doesn’t make sense to continue operating in that mode.

Thanks to some chaotic family dynamics during my high school years, I carried into adulthood the tendency to assume everyone only looks out for their own best interests at the expense of mine, making it necessary for me to keep my guard up at all times. While that might have protected me emotionally during an unstable earlier time, later on, this defense mechanism also made personal relationships extremely difficult. Though I had a deep desire to love and be loved, my suspicious, self-preserving mindset often undermined these desires.

It wasn’t until premarital counseling that I began to understand that a mindset that served me well in a difficult situation was actually detrimental to a healthy relationship. I had to find a new way to operate, a way to know and trust that my relationship with my husband-to-be, while not perfect, was healthy and stable. The tools forged in a dysfunctional circumstance were not effective in a healthy relationship. That paradigm shift was eye-opening!

But sometimes, it’s hard to apply past lessons to new situations.  Eight years into our marriage, facing geographical and vocational changes, I forged another mindset that I thought would help me get through a tough time.

A pragmatist at heart, I viewed seemingly temporary discomforts as something to be endured by hunkering down and pressing on. I’m not going to die from another transition, living in a two-bedroom condo as a family of five, or having to reinvent myself professionally, after all! And Allison, remember, you chose these circumstances; no one forced you to move. No complaining allowed!

 Certainly no one has ever died from these types of transitions, and honestly, these were privileged problems. Isn’t it a blessing that we had the choice to move closer to family? That we had a place to land and call our own? That God created us to be creative and innovative and adaptable?

Yes, all blessings for sure, but I convinced myself that if I didn’t put on a big smile and force my new reality to shine and sparkle, then everyone would see our family as a failure at worst and ungrateful at best. Instead of acknowledging that my life was simultaneously blessing-filled and emotionally hard, I believed the lie that only what is successful, easy, and positive is worthwhile.

I can do anything for a season fueled my people-pleasing tendencies to say yes to everything. Yes to every financial opportunity to counterbalance the instability of Ben’s new startup income. Yes to every chance to be seen and noticed, because who knows what doors that might open. Yes to every social invitation because we can’t miss out on community.

My spiritual disorientation, disguised as total self-reliance, was the prelude to a season of depression. This mental narrative of essentially just grit and bear it was supposed to empower me but instead left me cynical, burned out, and in a mental health crisis.

It has taken over fifteen months of bi-weekly therapy to unravel my misguided efforts. I can? No, but Christ can. Do anything? Not apart from Christ. For a season? We’re made of dust, not even guaranteed tomorrow, much less a whole season of anything. And yet we are fearfully and wonderfully made, with the resurrection power of Christ within us and God’s discerning wisdom ever-present.

This past week, at the end of an hour-long session, Sue, in her ever so gracious and kind counselor way, said, “So, Allison, where do you want to go from here? Do you want to continue at the same therapy frequency or are you ready to scale back?”

Initially, a little offended by the question, I wondered if she was kicking me out of therapy. Then I was momentarily hurt. She doesn’t want to be my counselor anymore? (See? I have a terrible tendency to assume the worst; I’m working on it).

But I realized that what she was offering was true empowerment. She was essentially saying, “Allison, look how far you’ve come. You know how to move forward, how to build on the progress you’ve made.” And she was right; we’d spent almost the entire session talking about successes I’d had instead of missteps I’d taken. Through counseling, medication, gentle self-care, and supportive community, I was learning to be hope-filled, alive in Christ, and seeing my circumstances through a grace filter.

Does that mean every inner conflict within me is resolved and every dysfunctional narrative I’ve ever constructed is dismantled? Certainly not. But I am leaning into the grace of Jesus to renew my mind. He has equipped me to engage in the battle for a kingdom mindset—one grounded in the reality that God’s power is made perfect in my weaknesses, that his Spirit enables me to walk by faith instead of sight, and that his ways are above my ways.

I have relearned that true wisdom comes from God, and he will generously show us the path of grace as we acknowledge him in all our ways, instead of solely leaning on our own faulty mental constructions.

I can abide in Christ, rest in his finished work, and continue to be transformed by the renewing of my mind. In all seasons of life, that truth will sustain me.

Allison Byxbe is a writer, blogger, and occasional college professor. She lives with her husband, three kiddos, and dogs Nate and Jemma in South Carolina. When she’s not writing or teaching others to write, she enjoys hiking, making beeswax wraps, learning about natural health, taking road trips, and drinking the perfect latte. Allison loves to connect with others about family, special needs parenting, mental health, grief, and faith. Her writing has been featured on The Mighty and Her View from Home, and you can find more of it on her blog Writing Is Cheaper Than Therapy.

Photograph © Katya Austin, used with permission