What is it about change that is so bothersome? I think that it’s at least partially because it’s never there when we desire it, and always there when we want no part of it. Kind of like hindsight – always around, but at the wrong time. 😛
Lately we’ve been looking back to the time when it seemed like there was nothing but change in my life. I certainly didn’t appreciate it back then. I was in, what I considered, serious turmoil! My routine, somewhat ordinary, well-known, comfortable life was being turned upside down, and nothing was ever to be the same again.
All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another. ~ Anatole France
Don’t get me wrong. I love my life right now, really I do. And being able to look back at where we’ve come from is… truly wonderful. And yet (Kyle’s “I’m about to say something” phrase ;)) there is this sense of somehow never being in the right place, maybe? I haven’t quite put my finger on it yet. I’m not discontent, just sort of sad – sort of.
I feel like I’m waiting, but I don’t even know what I’m waiting for. Everything seems up in the air for some reason. I’m normally okay with waiting. I like not changing. It’s comfortable. It’s familiar. This time, however, I’m not entirely pleased with it. This not-changing time seems to be only me. I don’t like being alone. It seems like everyone around me is changing, and changing a lot. I find myself wanting to change as well, though I dare say I wouldn’t particularly care for it so much if it were to actually happen.
Pastor Lovett started the sermon today with a thought that struck me (and I won’t be able to quote it perfectly): Joy is found in the labor of the will of God. So that is what I will work on, and perhaps this sadness, aching, or whatever it is will stop haunting me. Now if only knowing the will of God was clearer or easier…
If you don’t like something change it; if you can’t change it, change the way you think about it. ~ Mary Engelbreit