Breakfast: the token "most important meal of the day" has it's measured goodness somewhere in between night-time dreams, and morning's assignments tasked to the fully awakened mind.
Mornings that allow sacred sleepiness to fold itself into waffle batter, and steep richly amongst a french press and prized mugs, sit as a luxury I'm mindful to celebrate in a season before a newborn shifts them in to another kind of wonderful. Breakfasts of solitude bring Holy Spirit's promptings, but when shared with friends, promptings and dreams become patterned and colorful, pulling you deeper into each other's lives. They are the hours that awaken a strengthened reverence of why we are to break bread with one another. We gather in this way because it is in mouth-fulls of frittata, french-toast, and maple syrup that we find life—raw, real, communal.
And so once a week, I break morning's meal beside friends, the kind that allow each other to simply exist. In this simple way my community finds it's footing, and helps each other's territories of dried and dozing bones to wake up and dance.
We span the spectrum of twenty-somethings: one starting a new business with a baby on the way, one tackling transition from a 9-5 office job to becoming her own boss and educational speaker, one in search of a paycheck that brings fulfillment because of work put in—not money coming out.
All three of us trying to pull the murky waters around us into our neatly laid out black and white desires, and exhausted pro's and con's lists…
Thankfully, in the early space we find our inspiration encouraged and nurtured. May our morning musings, and spoken truth stir His power to enter into the spaces of your twenties that maybe no one prepared you for either:
Stop pretending you have it all together. Nowhere does the Bible tell us to be positive, and have all our ducks in a row 24/7. In fact it tells us much the opposite. Perhaps the most striking example it gives, is in telling us that Jesus WEPT. The most perfect human there ever was and ever will be, wept. He didn't have it all together, and He didn't try to because He knew the one who did (and does). What if we all just rested there for a bit?
Transition is supposed to be hard. New jobs, new cities, new friends. Change is difficult and that is okay. A mentor figure once told me that there is a natural grieving process that takes place within the context of any life-change. Though you are gaining something, you are losing whatever previously stood in it's place (job, relationship status, city, etc.). The natural struggle marks a lovely, and active fight onto a new ground of faith for your life.
*Note: Grieving process = meditating on the written Word, being transparent with community, admitting that transition is hard. Grieving process does NOT = believing lies, bottling up emotions, hermit-ting away from social opportunities)
Community is key to health. Find. Your. People. Life was designed to be shared. Adam didn't exist on his own, God's granting of a helpmate was to satisfy a need—not a want. You need community. The key here: keep showing up. Whatever and wherever that means for you, keep showing up. To find your people, you must first place yourself among them.
Learn what rest is. Learn how to enter the Lord's rest, not rest of your own strength. Learn the indicators specific to you, that designate you as being outside His territory, and learn what practical methods draw your being (flesh, soul, & spirit) back into His rest.
Love people. And love them well. Stewarding relationships well in your twenties produces the fruits of all the above for both yourself and those in relation to you. Learn to love so immensely, it startles people. Breakfast is a good place to start.