Today was one of those rare days when being an over-thinker actually brings peace of mind instead of constant worry (even if that worry is like a sick pleasure). Tonight I had back-to-back "dinner and drinks"-one with my college friends and the second with church friends. Life was physically ushering me from one era of life into another. When I hugged my college friends good bye as they headed home for the summer, I was really saying good bye to a magnificent 4 years of undergrad. The hugs from my church friends were the welcoming embraces of life, post-college. I think the weirdest thing was that I had a markedly better time during my second dinner (with the church group). It's strange because every day I repeat my mantra: "Change is hard". Somehow my grown-up life seemed more fun than my college life-I thought change was supposed to be hard?
I guess the truth is, change has been hard for the past couple months and only now is "change" becoming status quo. But, ultimately, why do we think change is hard? Is it actually difficult? Are we fooling ourselves? After all, during times of sadness and hurt we often long for change more than anything else.
I like to imagine change as the classic physics illustration of a ball rolling down an incline plane. Sitting still at the top of the incline isn't difficult, and rolling down the incline isn't difficult. Both are completely natural. But it's that moment in between, the moment that force is applied to the ball to make it overcome the static friction. That's the moment that is difficult. Why is overcoming static friction so hard? I think change is only difficult when we resist and I think we resist because we don't trust. We don't trust that the new status quo will be pleasant, or good, or what we want. We like having control, and prior to the change we feel as if we are pulling all of life's proverbial strings. So as I approach graduation, I didn't trust that I could find friends outside of Eastern. I didn't trust that my gifts would be utilized in the most God-honoring way. I didn't trust that I would ever find a community that would feel like home.
I think the greatest lesson for me is, change happens. And like a ball on an incline, it's actually more difficult to resist change, more difficult to fight gravity and roll UP and opposed to DOWN. When we are struggling we trust that no matter what, things have to get better. But more often than not, we can't imagine things ever getting better when they are already so good. We need faith just as much in good times as in bad. I think change will always scare me. The unknown is always frightening. But regardless of how I feel, it's time to stop trying to reverse gravity. It's time to trust that I can make wise decisions. It's time to trust that God won't leave me. It's time to trust that a good exists that is greater than my imagination.
