I write this as Lesallan, living in a season shaped by retirement and disability. I have worn many names and roles across my life—worker, friend, spouse, parent, dreamer, sufferer, believer. Those natures remain part of me; they have simply been rearranged by time and circumstance. My task now is to learn how to live faithfully and fully in this new arrangement of days.
Scripture Anchor
Rest and renewal
Psalm 23:1–3 KJV
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.
Isaiah 40:31 KJV
But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.
Matthew 11:28–30 KJV
Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.
For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.
These words steady me when my body is tired and my plans have changed. They remind me that rest is not failure and that renewal can come even in limitation.
Reflection
I have been many things, and each role left gifts—skills, stories, relationships, and scars. In retirement the outward tasks have slowed, but the inward work continues. Disability has narrowed some paths and opened others. I find deeper compassion, clearer priorities, and a quieter dependence on what truly sustains me.
- Grief and gratitude live together. I allow myself to miss what was while also naming what remains to be thankful for.
- Purpose shifts, it does not vanish. Small acts—a phone call, a prayer, a written memory—are meaningful work.
- Community matters. My presence, even when limited, shapes others. I let people carry some burdens with me.
Lessons and Promises
1. Acceptance is active not passive. I choose practices that honor reality and invite growth.
2. Limits reveal priorities. With finite energy, what I choose to spend it on becomes sacred.
3. God’s presence is not measured by productivity. My worth is rooted in being known and loved, not in what I produce.
4. Hope is practical. I hold to the promise that God works all things for good to them that love him.
Romans 8:28 KJV
And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.
Prayer
Lord, be near to me in this season. Hold the parts that ache and celebrate the parts that sing. Give me patience for slow mornings, courage for hard conversations, and a sense of purpose that fits the new day. Teach me rest that heals and work that blesses. Help me to trust that my life still matters in small, faithful ways. Amen.
Practical Steps
- Morning anchor: Begin each day with a short reading or a single verse and one sentence of gratitude.
- One small service: Choose one manageable way to bless someone each week such as a call, a note, or a prayer.
- Rhythm of rest: Build predictable rest into the week and protect a Sabbath hour or afternoon.
- Record the story: Keep a short journal of memories, lessons, and prayers to become a gift to yourself and others.
- Invite help: Tell trusted friends or family specific ways they can support you with small, concrete requests.
I am learning to let my many natures find gentle harmony: a life shaped by memory and mercy, by limits and love.
~Lesallan ✝️
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