Living Awake in the In-Between
There are seasons of life when everything seems to be changing, yet nothing has quite arrived.
You are no longer where you were, but you are not yet where you are going. I have come to think of this as the in-between. We often treat the in-between as something to hurry through. We want the answer, the destination, the next chapter. But lately I have been learning something different: The in-between is also life.
And if I spend all my time waiting for what comes next, I may miss the sacredness of what is happening now. Living awake means refusing to miss it.
More than a year ago, my life changed dramatically when I survived a massive heart attack. In those early days, the questions were immediate: Would I recover? Would my body regain its strength? What would life look like now? With time, some questions were answered. I healed. I grew stronger. I returned to ministry. I became more intentional about caring for my body, resting, moving, eating well, and paying attention to the gift of each day. But surviving something does not mean uncertainty disappears.
In some ways, surviving teaches you how little of life was ever certain in the first place. That realization can frighten us. Or it can awaken us. I am choosing awakening.
These days, I pay attention to things I might once have hurried past: the first sip of coffee in the morning, the quiet before the day begins, the strength of my body during exercise, a meaningful conversation, laughter, sunlight through a window, the privilege of standing at the altar, and the simple miracle of waking up and realizing: I am still here.
Not everything has to be extraordinary to be holy. Scripture is filled with people who lived in the in-between. Abraham journeyed toward a place he had not yet seen. Israel wandered between slavery and the Promised Land. Mary carried a promise whose future she could not fully understand. The disciples endured the bewildering space between Good Friday and Easter morning.
Again and again, God meets people in the middle of an unfinished story. Perhaps that is what faith really asks of us—not that we know the ending, but that we learn to recognize God in the middle. Maybe you are living in an in-between season too.
Perhaps you are waiting for medical results, considering retirement, grieving someone you love, navigating a changing relationship, contemplating a new beginning, or simply wondering what the next chapter of your life will hold.
Do not dismiss this season. Do not rush through it. There may be something sacred here.
Living awake in the in-between means caring for the body you have today. Loving the people who are here today. Saying the words that need to be said. Resting when you need rest. Laughing when laughter comes. Praying even when you do not have the words. It means trusting that God is present even when the map is incomplete.
I cannot control everything tomorrow will bring.
Neither can you. But today I can breathe.
Today I can pray. Today I can love. Today I can notice. Today I can give thanks. Today I can live. So wherever you find yourself this September, I offer you this invitation:
Do not wait for the next chapter to begin living your life.
This chapter matters too. The in-between is not empty space. God is here. And you are here. Stay awake.
Alicia Alexis+