Everything and Nothing

Photo by Max Beck on Unsplash

I woke up at 4am drenched in sweat. Not from anxiety, just overheating. I’d bundled up before bed because it was cold, but my body runs hot when I sleep.

I couldn’t fall back asleep, so I sat up to meditate. Just a short one, focused on joy.

I was still half-dreaming. My awareness drifted away from my body, away from the to-do list waiting for me. I was just floating.

I could feel my heart open up, warmth flowing through me, this deep sense of peace coming over me. The meditation was over, but I wanted to stay in that space forever. I laid back down in bed and one single thought came to me:

It’s possible to have everything and nothing at the same time.

And with that, tears streamed down my cheeks.

Peace Beyond Understanding

At that moment, I had peace. Not because things were suddenly OK and my life was fixed—they weren’t. But I trusted they would be. Something transcended the chaos swirling around me.

By every measure that matters in our world, I should feel like I’m failing. Financial pressure, uncertainty, things past due. The kind of circumstances that usually send my nervous system into survival mode.

And yet.

Peace. Joy. The sense that I had everything.

The stuff to get resolved and the pressure that comes with it is temporary. What I am certain about and what stays with me: I’m loved. I’m cared for. I’m OK.

The reason why I chased things—the money, the career, the relationships—I just wanted to be OK. And here I was with nothing, and I was OK. More than OK, really.

The Season of Waiting in the Dark

We’re in Advent now. The season of waiting for the light.

Advent is about waiting in the dark. Trusting the light is coming even when you can’t see it yet.

Patience has never been my thing. I was the kid who snuck around the house hunting for hidden Christmas presents. Waiting isn’t my strong suit.

This year forced me into waiting. Every time I thought I had the answer, the timeline, the plan—I had to wait longer. Trust more.

Here’s what I’m learning: I don’t need all the answers to have peace. Things can be unresolved and I can still trust they’ll work out. I can trust the light is coming while I’m still in the dark.

Maybe you’re in a season of waiting too. Maybe you don’t have all the answers. Maybe you’re tired of forcing them.

This season, give yourself permission to rest in the waiting.

Trust the light is coming. You’re OK right now. Even in the darkness.

Peace is possible in the middle of it.