I've been reflecting on change this week as I start back to school in 2 new districts, continue to settle in and explore my new home, and continue to figure out marriage along the way. Change is so hard for me. And yet, it has been so good. With a 1-2 hour commute to work, I've been listening to a lot of podcasts and a recurring theme this week has been the life, the death, the resurrection. Of Jesus. Of our spiritual lives. Of our daily lives. Of our work lives. Of our love and relationships. No place is left untouched or unimpacted in our journeys.
The cycles of light and darkness
The four seasons
The wildfires, burning, refining
The painted skies and dancing clouds
The process of aging
The tides and currents of the ocean
The shards of beach glass being smoothed to colorful pebbles
The flowers blooming and petals falling
The way animals are born, grow, give birth, nurture, die
Evolving, changing, dancing, transforming, dying, blooming.
If in all these carefully designed things,
why would change not be required of us?
But wait,
Change is.
The beats of our hearts
The rhythm of our lungs breathing in, breathing out
The curves of our muscles and bodies
The pumping of our legs as we bike and walk and run
The movement of our arms as we hold and push away
The shape of our mouths as we talk and laugh and eat and cry
The emotions bubbling in us
The thoughts in our minds
The creative ideas flowing out of us
Shifting, flowing, beating, dying, resurrecting, hoping.
The life cycle speaks of change leading to new things.
But yet,
We resist.
Change. Death.
Two words have never seemed so scary and sudden.
Why are we afraid of them?
Change and death aren't only physical,
And the journey doesn't stop at them;
unless we refuse to move and hope and dream.
But grace,
It dwells.
Sometimes change gives us the tools we never knew we needed for destinations ahead.
Sometimes change weeds out characteristics that are holding us back.
Sometimes the death of dreams leads to bigger and better and more incomprehensible dreams.
Sometimes the death of our pride and selfishness leads to deeper love and vulnerability.
Beautiful things come out of broken places.
A depth
A courage
A preparedness
Grace, sweet grace
That can't be obtained any other way than
walking it out.
A thousand ways, none the same.
Walk the journey.
Pick the wildflowers.
Let the tears fall as you drive down the road.
Move boldly.
Laugh with enemies.
Grieve with friends.
Release the dying.
Embrace hope.
And the interwoven thread? Grace.
We receive it. We extend it. We rest in it.
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I Speak of Change
Everything around us speaks of change.The cycles of light and darkness
The four seasons
The wildfires, burning, refining
The painted skies and dancing clouds
The process of aging
The tides and currents of the ocean
The shards of beach glass being smoothed to colorful pebbles
The flowers blooming and petals falling
The way animals are born, grow, give birth, nurture, die
Evolving, changing, dancing, transforming, dying, blooming.
If in all these carefully designed things,
why would change not be required of us?
But wait,
Change is.
The beats of our hearts
The rhythm of our lungs breathing in, breathing out
The curves of our muscles and bodies
The pumping of our legs as we bike and walk and run
The movement of our arms as we hold and push away
The shape of our mouths as we talk and laugh and eat and cry
The emotions bubbling in us
The thoughts in our minds
The creative ideas flowing out of us
Shifting, flowing, beating, dying, resurrecting, hoping.
The life cycle speaks of change leading to new things.
But yet,
We resist.
Change. Death.
Two words have never seemed so scary and sudden.
Why are we afraid of them?
Change and death aren't only physical,
And the journey doesn't stop at them;
unless we refuse to move and hope and dream.
But grace,
It dwells.
Sometimes change gives us the tools we never knew we needed for destinations ahead.
Sometimes change weeds out characteristics that are holding us back.
Sometimes the death of dreams leads to bigger and better and more incomprehensible dreams.
Sometimes the death of our pride and selfishness leads to deeper love and vulnerability.
Beautiful things come out of broken places.
A depth
A courage
A preparedness
Grace, sweet grace
That can't be obtained any other way than
walking it out.
A thousand ways, none the same.
Walk the journey.
Pick the wildflowers.
Let the tears fall as you drive down the road.
Move boldly.
Laugh with enemies.
Grieve with friends.
Release the dying.
Embrace hope.
And the interwoven thread? Grace.
We receive it. We extend it. We rest in it.
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