Change
I’ve been thinking a lot the last few weeks about change. Change is hard. We are creatures of habit and comfort. Change, while inevitable, is daunting. The unknown is like walking into a cloud of mist seeking the horizon. As an adult I’ve had to train myself to ‘go with the flow’ more, it is not my first instinct.
My son’s best friend is moving. On his first day of fifth grade, they will pull out of town with a U-Haul headed for Texas. As you can imagine, this has been incredibly difficult for him to accept and lots of tears have been shed. As a pastor we are taught to anticipate that we will move several times throughout our ministry. This was one of the hardest things for me to accept when I felt called because I didn’t ever want to put my family through the hardship of moving. I’ve been the family that had to move away and leave all my friends behind and start over…and I’ve been the heartbroken congregant when a beloved pastor was called elsewhere. I have considered how hard it may be for my child to be the one to move. However, it’s a new sensation to watch my child be the one who feels left behind, abandoned, and alone. Add this to the list of things that no one writes about in pregnancy and parenting books!
It took years for me to admit to my parents that moving from the town where my mother grew up to Bedford when I began middle school was the best thing they could have done for me. They knew it was the right thing to do, but I resented it. Now, I can’t imagine my life any other way. The opportunities I had and the people I met guided me to where I am today. But it’s hard to hold the hands of a ten-year-old and make them believe that it will all be OK. That the broken heart will mend, that life will still be full. I can point to the picture of my best friend and me at 7 years old next to the one of us at 35 years old and say, “See. We are still close.” But that doesn’t make him feel any better about walking into fifth grade without his best friend on the first day of school. Just as I desired for myself at that age, I wish I could enclose him in a bubble and stop time so that everything remained the same and nothing was hard, and nothing hurt.
Isn’t that why the disciples shut themselves away behind locked doors and windows after Jesus’ death? It wasn’t just because they feared for their lives (surely, they did). But also, they were grieving this life-altering change. They had left homes, jobs, families…to follow someone who was now gone. No amount of explanation or assurance from Jesus before his death could truly prepare them for what was ahead of them. Everything they thought they knew was shattered. What were they supposed to do without their mentor to guide them? How were they supposed to go on without their friend? At least, if they were all in one place together, with the shape-shifting world outside the locked windows, they could maintain their bubble of comfort with one another. And if they couldn’t do that, well they could just go back to the familiar ways of life—like when they went fishing and Jesus met them on the shore. To see the resurrected Jesus would have brought joy to their hearts, but short-lived jubilation, because he couldn’t stay. Things still had to change. They still had to walk a different path without him physically beside them. They were required to split up and go their separate ways to spread the gospel message. Exciting, yes…but also intimidating and heartbreaking.
All of this is to say, we know that things are always changing, whether we like it or not. Whatever seismic or miniscule shifts you are experiencing, I will pray for the peace of Christ to mend your broken heart. I will hope that the grief, fear, or anger you might be feeling will dissipate over time, so that you can be open to the hope that comes with the dawn each morning. That you will be able to look back and reflect on the Holy Spirit’s movement in these moments and trust that God’s hand is at work, even now, because God is good and always working for our good, too. I will pray these things for you, and ask that you pray these things for us, too.