Change

I’m not what people would call a free spirit.

I usually live by a plan. I have a calendar

that pretty much tells me what I have to do for the day. I schedule my day and how I spend it. I’m not a type A personality nor am I anal-retentive but I do like to have some control over my life.

Of course, life has other plans. And with hindsight, I can see that the detours of my life have done me the most good. But going through the process of change is difficult. It is one thing to go through something knowing for certain how it’s going to turn out but it’s quite another thing to go through change without know if the outcome will be good or if the change will even have an outcome at all.

A new job. A new relationship. A new responsibility. A new place. Any break in the routine comes with excitement, it’s true. But it also comes with its own heartache. Whenever a major change in my life occurs, I always feel like retreating from the world. I wish I could crawl into a cave and wait out the storms of winter and come up when all the dirty work is done. I moan and wail (in prayer) about how life could have been so much simpler if I stayed inside my comfort zone.

But at the same time, I know that not changing is not a choice at all. Human beings adapt. That’s what we do. It’s what we were born to do. And so, that’s what I do. I allow myself to be stretched, pushed, pulled, tightened, reshaped until I realize just how little control I really have over the people and situations around me. And although those are sometimes the most difficult moments of my life, I find that they are also the most fruitful.

Sometimes I think God allows these situations, however uncomfortable they may be, because He knows it’s an opportunity for me to grow—to widen my horizons, to cast out my nets, to see the world with new eyes, to be better than I was before.

My college Philosophy professor used to begin every class with a prayer from Desmond Tutu. It didn’t make much sense to me then but now I’m truly beginning to appreciate it.

Disturb us, O Lord

when we are too well-pleased with ourselves 

when our dreams have come true because we dreamed too little,

because we sailed too close to the shore.

Disturb us, O Lord

when with the abundance of things we possess, 

we have lost our thirst for the water of life 

when, having fallen in love with time, 

we have ceased to dream of eternity 

and in our efforts to build a new earth, 

we have allowed our vision of Heaven to grow dim.

Stir us, O Lord

to dare more boldly, to venture into wider seas  

where storms show Thy mastery, 

where losing sight of land, we shall find the stars.

In the name of Him who pushed back the horizons of our hopes 

and invited the brave to follow. Amen.