Maybe it's a midlife crisis. Maybe a lack of good sleep. Maybe those grays up top of my head are whispering lies in my ears, but sometimes I think I'm lost. Other times I know exactly where I am but wonder how I got there. 

Do seasons of life leave you feeling adrift?

In dream state last night I sat with Jason on the front steps of some unfamiliar church. There was a concession stand window of sorts built awkwardly right into the church entrance in the mix of traditional red bricks and the white steeple perched on top. 
A nice lady handed us glass bottles of ice cold Coke. We downed our refreshment. Our thoughts quickly returned to the fact that we'd been too late to observe the Lord's supper with the congregants in the church who'd just finished up. 

We felt out of place. 

I woke up feeling just as out of place. You know those times you wake up and have no idea where you are? That was me. "What house is this?" Still in bed, trying to reorient myself, I looked at the white dresser and saw a stack of tshirts that hadn't been put away. 

I allowed my eyes to follow the wall to the door. There I put together that down the hall was Rylie's room and that a sharp right at the door pointed to Hallie's room where she was sleeping soundly.

I'd gotten my bearings back. 

I find myself in unfamiliar territory not only in dreams and a sleepy state, but in physical wakefulness too. 

Challenges, chapters and even seasons catch me off guard. I find my compass needle spinning erratically, forgetting the position of true north. 

Marriage looks a little different than it did in those early years. 

  When Jason comes home now on weekday afternoons, mention-worthy encounters come first. 

"Had lunch today with Paul" 

 "Rylie went to the see the nurse again at school". 

"Todd's birthday is today."

Usually standing in the kitchen, kid reports, evening appointments and the supper plan are expressed in bullet-point form. It's become our afternoon greeting (usually after a quick peck on the cheek). 

The late evening is comprised of "non-think, non-emotive" time meant to aid Jason in his decompressing. I can typically look across the den to see him with earbuds tuned in to the latest podcast; that is, when I look up from my phone. 

Sometimes I wonder about this place. 

Wasn't I sitting beside him in his Dodge truck just the other day listening to the Cranberries on the radio? Every few months we had a "new song". Now our song and dance consists of work, continual running of the dishwasher and a dozen runs down 27th street to get to practices and meetings. 

My place as a mother seems out of focus some days lately too. Identifying where my responsibility continues and ends when it comes to mothering a college-age son is new territory. Should "Go to bed at a decent time" and "When's your next test?" still be a part of our every conversation? My arms feel awkward wrapped around his waist for hugs. I liked it when I was taller. 

When did the shoe basket in our entry way become filled with Ladies' size sevens? I was the only lady in the house not so long ago. Little feet ran through the house just yesterday.  I'm Mom, but these days I seem to also be known alternatingly as friend and foe. 

  
Even the mirror reminds me that this place I'm in is different. Age spots have have taken up permanent residence on my cheeks while important friends and loved ones have disappeared from the scene due to unforeseen circumstances like changes in geography, time constraints and in some cases their departure from this world. 

These unfamilarities leave me blurry-eyed (maybe my vision's getting bad) and mystified. 

Careful evaluation of our current situation can prove helpful. We learn to preserve what can of that which is precious. We come to understand some changes are worth embracing. 

But truly finding our bearings requires the realization that "our place" is any place with God as our center. Our joy and peace of mind depend on this knowledge. Clarity is found in this understanding. Our GPS location or stage in life holds little significance when we keep our bearings rightfully focused.  

You will keep in perfect peace all who trust in you, all whose thoughts are fixed on you! Isaiah 26:3