I've always considered myself a change-lover, but I'm not sure where I got that misconception. The truth is, I love to think about change, to roll new ideas over in my mind, to look into the ramifications of this move or that opportunity, but when a door opens and I must go through it in my life, I suddenly think of all the things I'll miss from my old place, and find the uncertainty of the new overwhelming. Emotionally, I struggle until I find a new equilibrium.
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The first box packed! |
This I have had the chance to observe in myself lately, because my husband and I are moving. It's a wonderful move--lateral in space but most definitely an improvement on financial fronts--that will give us the freedom to consider more opportunities in the future. We will spend our first night in the new place on Christmas Eve.
Now I am eight months pregnant, so I am doing more directing than actual moving, and dear friends and family are volunteering their hours and muscles. We are about halfway moved, at that awkward stage where it seems that anytime we need anything it's at the other house.
The strange thing I'm realizing is that my fear of change does not make change bad! In fact, this fear should be faced and laid to rest as I root into the unchanging soil of love within and around me. If all were to change in a terrible way, I would still be loved and would still love. So let me hold to what is sure while all around me swirls, while my physical environment shifts, and while my accustomed routines are disrupted. Because I have all I need, here within me and beside me.
All I need is love. The rest is dispensible.