There’s a quiet assumption most of us carry into life.
That eventually things will settle.
Not that everything will be perfect or easy — but that the shaking will stop. That the ground will feel steady again. That the constant adjusting and recalibrating will ease up and we’ll finally exhale.
I don’t think we even realize we’re carrying that expectation. It just sits there, shaping how we move through hard seasons. We tell ourselves things like, Once we get through this… or Eventually this will all calm down.
And for a long time, that assumption felt reasonable.
Until I learned something the hard way.
The Moment I Realized Some Things Never Settle
When Q died, it wasn’t just loss that entered our lives — it was clarity.
Not the kind that answers questions or makes things make sense. But the kind that strips away illusions you didn’t know you were living with.
One of those illusions was this: that life always finds its way back to steady ground.
His death showed me that some things don’t clear. They don’t resolve. They don’t neatly settle into something manageable you can carry without thinking about.
Some losses don’t soften into the background of your life.
They reshape it.
And once I saw that, I couldn’t unsee it — not just in grief, but in everything.
I started noticing how often we expect life to reset for us. How often we assume that time will smooth out the hard edges. How often we tell ourselves that relief is coming, if we can just hold on a little longer.
But the truth is, not every season ends with resolution.
Some seasons end with reality.
The Pressure of Expecting Relief
As moms, we’re especially good at carrying expectations quietly.
We expect ourselves to adapt quickly. To stay steady. To hold everything together even when life keeps changing shape in our hands.
And when things don’t feel lighter with time, we start wondering what we’re doing wrong.
Why does this still feel heavy?
Why hasn’t this settled yet?
Why am I still adjusting?
We rarely ask whether the expectation itself was unrealistic.
Because life doesn’t always give us a moment where everything clicks back into place. Sometimes it keeps asking us to live inside the unresolved.
That can feel deeply unsettling.
Not because we don’t trust God — but because we’re human. We want ground under our feet. We want to know where we’re headed. We want to feel like we’re moving toward something, not just maintaining.
Faith When Life Doesn’t Reset
One of the biggest shifts in my faith happened when I stopped waiting for God to make life feel settled again.
I realized I had been subconsciously treating peace like a destination — something I’d arrive at once things made sense or hurt less or felt more predictable.
But God didn’t meet me there.
He met me here.
In the middle.
In the ongoing.
In the life that didn’t resolve neatly.
Scripture doesn’t promise us a life that settles into comfort. It promises us a God who stays.
And that distinction matters.
I stopped asking God to give me clarity about when things would feel easier. Instead, I started asking Him to help me live faithfully in a life that wasn’t going to clear or reset the way I hoped.
That prayer changer how I show up as a parent. It changed the way I measure progress.
It changed the way I define peace.
Peace, I learned, isn’t the absence of disruption.
It’s the presence of God inside it.
Motherhood in a Life That Keeps Moving
Motherhood doesn’t wait for things to settle.
The kids still need you.
The questions still come.
The routines still repeat.
There are nights when nothing special is happening. No big plans. No moments you’d label as meaningful. Just the kids spread across the couch, talking over each other, half-laughing, half-arguing, asking for snacks.
And sometimes I catch myself realizing — this is the life we’re living.
Not the one I imagined years ago.
Not a version that feels tidy or resolved.
But a life that’s real, ongoing, and still deeply good.
Our kids aren’t waiting for things to feel settled. They aren’t keeping score of how smooth life is. They’re watching how we show up when it isn’t.
They’re learning what faith looks like when answers don’t come quickly. What love looks like when things are still complicated. What steadiness looks like when life keeps moving.
They don’t need us to fix everything.
They need us to stay.
Letting Go of the Need for Resolution
At some point, I had to release the idea that life was supposed to resolve for me.
Not in bitterness.
Not in defeat.
But in acceptance.
Acceptance that some questions wouldn’t be answered.
Some losses wouldn’t soften.
Some seasons wouldn’t clear.
And that didn’t mean God had abandoned me.
It meant He was inviting me to trust Him in a different way.
Not for resolution — but for presence.
Not for certainty — but for faithfulness.
Not for a reset — but for daily grace.
Once I stopped measuring my life against the expectation that it should feel settled by now, I felt less at war with my own reality.
I stopped waiting to live well.
I started living where I was.
If Life Hasn’t Settled for You Either
If you’re reading this and realizing life hasn’t cleared or settled the way you hoped — I want you to know you’re not alone.
Maybe it’s grief.
Maybe it’s ongoing stress.
Maybe it’s a season that keeps stretching longer than you expected.
Whatever it is, it doesn’t mean you’re stuck.
It means you’re living inside real life — the kind that requires faith, endurance, and presence more than resolution.
God is not waiting on your life to settle before He meets you.
He’s already here.
Before you go, I’d love for you to comment — not because you need to have the right words, but because naming where you are matters.
What part of your life still feels unsettled?
Or what expectation are you letting go of right now?
One word is enough.
One sentence is enough.
Even “me too” is enough.
Your story matters. And when you share it, you remind someone else that they’re not failing because life didn’t reset — they’re just learning how to live faithfully in a world that doesn’t always settle.
And that, too, is holy ground. 🤍
