The one word that best describes my life right now is change. I feel like almost everything is changing. My wife Lisa and I recently moved from Arizona to California, from a house in suburbs to an apartment in the city. We went from having a lot of possessions to few, from two cars to none. I’m transitioning from a career as an established musician to one as an aspiring writer, from being around a lot of great friends to being in a place where I know very few people. We’re changing our health insurance, doctor, dentist, grocery store, you name it (you can read my earlier post on change here).
Recently I was doing my nightly habit of standing on our balcony to reflect back on the day and pray. I’ve found it to be a helpful way to evaluate my progress on my personal development goals, practice gratitude, and maintain perspective. Normally this is a very calming and fulfilling time, but on this particular night I found myself feeling really sad about all the change in my life. Not regret over the choices I’d made, just a deep sense of sadness about the price of these changes, especially missing my dear friends back in Arizona. Rather than fight it or “looking on the bright side” as I’d normally do, I just let myself grieve. I acknowledged the cost, talked through how I was feeling with God, and let the tears come.
The next day I spent hanging out with my twenty-five year old son Kilian. He lives in Sacramento and being closer to him was one of the big reasons we moved. I taught him about investing and health insurance. We talked about his career plans and dreams. We ran errands. He and Lisa and I played Scrabble. It was a beautiful day.
As I stood on the balcony that night after he left, the contrast in my mood was striking. The night before, I took time to let myself grieve the reality of all that I was giving up through these changes. That following night, I felt like God was reminding me of everything I was gaining, a deeper relationship with my son being a prime example. It was such a sweet gift.
When I was a teenager, my family went to a small, traditional church that gave out programs every Sunday with a generic photo and scripture on the front. For some reason, one of those covers really stood out to me. It had a picture of a sunrise over the ocean and a Bible verse from Psalm 139:
“If I rise in the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there Your hand will guide me, Your right hand will hold me fast.”
I remember those poetic words gave me so much hope and comfort. They told me that no matter what changes life would bring, God would be there to help me through them.
That promise has proven true my whole life. I’ve learned the truth of God’s faithfulness in a thousand small ways and quite a few big ones. I learned it when I packed up my family in 2004 and moved to a city in Arizona I’d never heard of, to take a music pastor job at a church I’d never heard of, without knowing a soul. Fourteen years later, I’m learning that truth once again as I leave a now familiar place with deep friendships and wonderful memories to embark on a new adventure.
So how about you? What changes are you facing in your life? Whatever they are, I encourage you to acknowledge the losses, grieve well, then let them go. Focus your attention on whatever gains these changes have brought. And if you’re willing to try a little faith, take comfort and hope in the promise that God will be with you and help you, whatever comes. “Taste and see that the Lord is good” (Psalm 34:8). If you do, you’ll take another step toward Becoming Yourself.
What did you feel when you read the word “change”? Maybe you got excited because change is something you generally enjoy. Maybe your stomach sank because change is something you try to avoid. Whichever best describes you, most of us have a strong reaction to the idea of change.
Virtually all change involves an element of loss. This is obvious with hard, unwelcome change, like the passing of a loved one. In my 25 years as a music pastor, I participated in countless funerals. I’ve seen some people desperately avoid, deny, or bury their grief, to their great detriment. I’ve watched others walk through it courageously, acknowledging and embracing their pain, and take the first steps toward healing. But even positive change, like getting your dream job, has an element of grief. It may mean saying goodbye to co-workers you care about or leaving part of your former work that was meaningful or enjoyable. Whatever your circumstance, the first step to processing change is to grieve well.
2. MARK THE MOMENT
3. PURSUE THE POSSIBILITIES
So how about you? What changes are you facing? Rather than dreading or avoiding them, why not try this 3 step process for yourself? Grieve well. Mark the moment. Pursue the possibilities. If you do, you’ll take another huge step toward Becoming Yourself.