It Is Well with My Soul

(This post is part of the February synchroblog “Renewal”)

“How’s your soul?” Pastor Sarah asked one day.

I was momentarily taken aback because I hadn’t really thought about it. Then I answered, “I’m really happy. Satisfied. Content. It is well with my soul.”

It came as a bit of a surprise to me. You see, I’ve spent my whole life moving from liminal space to liminal space. You know what liminal space is – it’s the feeling you have when you have finished one phase of your life, but you aren’t ready or able to move to the next phase yet. Think of it as a doorway – you’ve left the room you were in, but you haven’t really entered the next room. Sometimes we get caught there – in liminal space – and we can’t go back but we can’t go forward either.

Possibly my continual feeling of search for liminal space had to do with the way I was raised. We lived in 9 houses in 7 towns/cities before I graduated from high school. I never could get too attached to any place, or to any group of people other than my family, because I knew we would be moving pretty soon.

After I met and married Al, the pattern continued, since he was in the Air Force, and there was always another assignment in the future – probably no more than 3 years away. So even the rooms in my life took on some of the aspects of the doorways in and out – liminal space.

I certainly don’t resent the liminal space of my life. There are those who say you never learn anything unless you are in liminal space. Sometimes the lessons were easy and sometimes they were hard, but I was learning all the while.

And then both Al and I retired, and I got our parents buried and our children married, and we looked at each other and said, “Whew, what do we want to do with the rest of our lives, and where do we want to do it?”

We knew we didn’t want to live where there were hot summers or where there were cold, snowy winters, so we decided on the Pacific Northwest. In 2009, we spent several weeks traveling around Washington and Oregon looking for a great place to live – beautiful scenery, temperate climate, with the services we might need from the military, and a great retirement community. We settled on Franke Tobey Jones here in Tacoma, and went home to Dallas to sell the house.

Then we entered the most difficult liminal space of my life. For three years we sat in a house that we were trying to sell – with all the attendant hope and despair – and waited. We had told our church, and our friends, and our family of our plans, and we were ready to leave in a month or so – as soon as the house sold. But no buyers came forward. We detached from activities and friends – we were adrift – we were lost in liminal space.

Fortunately, during that time, I was able to connect with some really good friends virtually. They lived on the internet, so I knew I wouldn’t lose them when we relocated.  Some I’ve met in real life, and some stay where I found them in virtual space – but that doesn’t mean they aren’t as important to me as flesh and blood people whom I see every day. Many of them are pastors. Most of them are Presbyterians. Sarah was one of them – even in 2009, three years before we met in person.

One of the most important things I learned during those three years was the importance of Centering Prayer. Some people call it meditation, or mindfulness, but I know it as prayer. I still practice it every day. It’s a time set aside to let God work in me. It’s a time spent in silence. It’s a time spent in contemplation. It’s not a time for asking God for help for me or others. It’s not even a time for praising God. There are no words involved. If thoughts come into my head, I’ve learned to just let them go. And somewhere in the silence, God works through my problems, takes my worries and replaces them with contentment.

It sounds terribly cliché, but perhaps we use the clichés because they are true. I’ve learned “It’s not up to me.” I can say “It is what it is.” I truly “Let go and let God.”

So now, in this beautiful, green leafy world, watched over by Mt. Rainier, and tempered by Puget Sound, I repeat, “it is well with my soul.


Synchroblog “Renewal” link list

Done With Religion – Renewal

Mark Votova – 30 Ways the Church Can Find Renewal

Jeremy Myers – I am Dying … (So I Can Live Again)

Phil Lancanster – The Parable of the Classic Car

Susan Schiller – Renewal by Design

Glenn Hager – Repurposed

Wesley Rostoll – Why I no longer pray for revival

Clara Ogwuazor-Mbamalu – Renewal of the Spirit

K. W. Leslie – Those who wait on the Lord

Lisa Brown – Momma’s Kick Off Your Shoes and Stay For A While!

Jenom Makama – …Like An Antivirus

Leah – Renewal!


15 thoughts on “It Is Well with My Soul

  1. Pingback: Becoming Multicultural: Learning to navigate a complex world by using multiple approaches | An Aging Liberal Hippy from the Left Coast

  2. Your wisdom and insight is always beneficial to me. I also find centering prayer to be a source of renewal and refreshment for me … not only does it give me peace but I often feel it makes space for me to hear God.


  3. Pingback: Stop Right here and Renew Your Mind! - VisionHub : VisionHub

  4. Pingback: Put Your Mask On First | Grace Rules Weblog

  5. Pingback: Renewal | Done with Religion

  6. Pingback: Repurposed | Glenn Hager

  7. Pingback: …Like An Antivirus | Musings

  8. Pingback: Momma’s Kick Off Your Shoes and Stay For Awhile! | Me Too Moments For Moms

  9. Pingback: Link List for February 2015 Synchroblog – Renewal | synchroblog

  10. “Liminal spaces” is a new word to me, but not a new concept. I really enjoyed reading your words today, Abbie. I’m presently in a liminal space but I guess I haven’t yet felt “all is well” yet. I desire to be rooted but that’s not yet in my future.

    I love centering prayer, too… I am so very glad to be here in your sacred space online, Abbie – it’s nice to meet you!


    • I’m very glad to meet you, too. Remember, the reason you are in liminal space is because you need to learn something, and from your blog I feel like it is definitely happening. The things you learn while you’re stuck there are the things that will sustain you once you are finally able to move on. From this side of the divide, I can say, I am thankful for the time I spent there, although it was pure hell while I was living it. (I’m going to be trite and clichéd again). Hold fast to your faith. Fight the good fight. Keep the end in mind.

      Remember, when we ask for patience, we forget that we need to be frustrated in order to learn and practice it.


  11. Abbie, that is beautiful! Your writing is so expressive….I can just hear you saying those words….reading it has been a wonderful way to wrap my Sunday….Thank you for sharing.
    And thank you for being my friend, too! Especially since we’re now on the ‘virtual’ plane and not the actual.
    Take care, love, and keep the notes flying!
    Love you….Ann (aka Annieoldgirl!)


  12. I love this hymn. It was sung at Mama’s memorial service. I’m sure you know the story of the tragedy the hymn writer had undergone — but was still able to pen words of such faith and trust.
    Be VERY glad you are where you are. We here in the sunny south are bracing for up to 8 inches of snow. I know, I know — you have a son in Chicago, AND our neighbor in New Hampshire had to hire someone to shovel off our roof lest the roof end up in the living room. BUT 8″ in middle Tennessee is the apocalypse, weather-wise.
    Love to you and Big Al,


    • We’re having a very early spring. Daffodils are out, fruit trees are blooming, forsythia is swelling. I just hope it doesn’t freeze and snow on them, but it’s not forcasted. I can live with the rain and gray skies most of the winter when we get occasional glorious days like today.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.