I love change. I like to be on the front end of new and fresh things. But there's always a part of change that's difficult. Moving to Chicago from California was tough because my roots were deep. And the primary ways that I experience God are through activism, relationships, and nature. I got ripped out of all three. I didn't have a job. My kids were starting school. I had no friends. And to this California girl, Chicago is not a hotbed of nature.
I told my husband, John, "I can't find God here." And his immediate response was, "Maybe we made a mistake. Maybe we should move back."
I said, "No. I don't think this is a problem we need to fix. I think I just need to live with a part of change that's hard."
My experience has been that the difficult parts of change are most often where God lives. I learn a little in the easy things, but the deep epicenter change, where foundations and paradigms shift in my soul, happens when my life is hard. I become aware not just of my need for God, but what I really believe about him. All the things that I glibly say, in change I have to live out.
If I push through, on the other side of change is something deeper, richer, and more purified.
Most of us, though, cling to the safe side and go kicking and screaming into change. We fight it instead of moving into it quietly with an assuredness that not only is God on the other side but new facets of him that we have heretofore not understood are also there.
Change includes loss. And any loss that we experience moves our hearts closer to surrender. It prepares the soil and softens the heart to get it ready for the new seed God needs to put in there.1