changes

How I wish I were even moderately tech savvy--say even just the ability of the average preschooler! I just tried to copy a picture I took from the mountains onto this page, but no such luck! I discovered, sadly, that cut and paste does not work with photographs! I have been so proud of myself that I've finally figured out cut and paste... but, alas, "pride goeth before a fall!"

Let me at least describe it for you: it's a picture of our 3 boys after a late afternoon/early evening round of golf at the mountains. The sky is truly the color of a brilliant blue robin's egg. As I look at their slightly dirty, wrinkled shirts and relaxed smiles, I can almost smell the clean mountain air and feel the gentle evening breeze. I walked and watched with them for the whole 18 holes. As I was walking along, I kept trying to stop and tell myself: "Remember this moment! This sacred, joyful moment of being with my boys and enjoying God's extravagant creation." And then a moment later, I would tell myself, "Now, help me Lord to hold on to this moment, this everyday, sacred, wonderful moment in time of just being here with them right here."

As we finished the round and took the photograph, it was our last night in the mountains, and I knew the next morning, we were headed back to Raleigh, back to school, back to schedules, back to chores and busyness... And I knew my oldest son was headed back to college and my oldest daughter would soon be leaving for her first job/fellowship in Charlotte after graduating from college. But in that brief captured moment in the gorgeous, peaceful mountains, time stood still and our children were still home with us and life was still relatively uncomplicated.

Even now, as I think about the moment represented by that photograph and by the moments spent on the porch watching the butterflies, I feel God's peace and presence. But life has changed. We took our son, Richard, back to Davidson College yesterday. We thanked God to see how happy he was to go back (even though I cried because I miss him!) and to see the wonderful friends he has made and this place God has provided for him to become the man He has called him to be. But, I just have to say it, I don't like change! If you ask me, transitions stink! I struggle with my children growing up and going away. I want to hold them close, keep them safe, and hear their laughter within the walls of my home.

But life is all about change. The change of seasons. The change of day and night. The change of stages in our lives from youth to young adult to middle age to, well, you get the idea! And while I love the change of seasons, I struggle with so many other changes: my parents growing old and then going home to be with the Lord; my knees getting creaky and cranky and causing me to change from running to walking; my children leaving behind those sweet, innocent elementary years and changing into sometimes surly, uncommunicative teenagers.

My daughter and I talked last night about all the myriad changes after college--changing from student to employee; changing from dependence on your parents to independence; changing from single to married; changing from being a child to having a child and on and on. These are all such exciting and wonderful changes and transitions--but also scary and unpredictable each in their own way.

Some of the changes we are facing, however, don't appear to be so exciting or enticing. Changes from noisy, busy homes to awfully quiet and too calm homes. Changes from carpooling all over kingdom come to wondering if your young drivers are out there obeying the speed limits and driving defensively. Changes from frustration over the constant clutter and mess to loneliness and sadness over a too clean, spotless home. Changes from spending enormous amounts of money on giant boxes of cereal and pizza and potato chips to small grocery bills even on the infrequent trips to Harris Teeter. Changes from complaining about too much to do, too little money, too much laundry to desperately missing the precious children that so often cluttered and dirtied your home and car but brought infinite joy, laughter, and irreplaceable memories.

With all these changes--some welcome, some dreaded--isn't it comforting and even glorious to ponder a God who never ever changes? And a God who will never never never never leave us or forsake us? Wherever we go, wherever our children go, whatever stage we find ourselves or those that we love in, He is there. Changeless. Omniscient. Omnipotent. Infinite. And as we sang in church yesterday, "He is forever mine." What wonderful words--"forever." And "mine." Put those 2 words together, and you have security and safety and joy even in the midst of the stormiest of changes. The God of the Universe is forever mine. He is forever and ever and ever mine and yours and our children's and our great great grandchildren's.

So, Lord, while I may not welcome all the changes, I rejoice and trust that whatever comes, You are there, strengthening, redeeming, renewing, refilling. You have told us that "I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end." Rev.22:13 I'm thinking that pretty much covers any changes we will ever go through! You are there at the beginning, in the middle, and at the very end. And You have promised, at the very end of Your Word, "Surely, I am coming soon!" So, we say with John, "Come, Lord Jesus!" But in the meantime, might we live in every stage, every transition of our lives, trusting and looking to You, the ever present, ever powerful One. To You be the glory forever and ever.

p.s. After I wrote this, I read something by Henri Nouwen about transitions (he used the word "passages"). Just thought I'd include his beautiful words below:

"Death is a passage to new life. That sounds very beautiful, but few of us desire to make this passage. It might be helpful to realise that our final passage is preceded by many earlier passages. When we are born we make a passage from life in the womb to life in the family. When we go to school we make a passage from life in the family to life in the larger community. When we get married we make a passage from a life with many options to a life committed to one person. When we retire we make a passage from a life of clearly defined work to a life asking for new creativity and wisdom. Each of these passages is a death leading to new life. When we live these passages well, we are becoming more prepared for our final passage."