First spoken by an ancient Greek philosopher, it is just as true today as it was then. The one constant in life is change. In some seasons of life, we reach for change. In other seasons, we struggle to hold on to the known, the stable, the meaningful, the precious. I reached for change as a child, longing for stability and a sense of normalcy to replace insecurity and dysfunction. As a teenager, I saw glimpses of what life could be, and I committed myself to those things and to the path it took to get there. We reach for change with our own children, wanting for them the normal milestones of being a child that say they are maturing physically, emotionally, socially, educationally. We nurture them toward those changes.
As adults, we embrace the changes that bring opportunity, financial gain, upward status, more time for leisure and recreation, even the understanding and wisdom that emerges along with the gray hair. But change isn’t always enjoyable, and the challenges of change we can shrink from. We carefully planned for our first pregnancy and we prepared for our small little bundle of life, but death stole our expectations, the sameness, the likeness to the dreams we had envisioned. Even after the death of our daughter, I still remember with fondness and a sense of satisfaction the years two of my sons were in elementary school and a much younger one was toddling behind as we kept up with carpools and baseball and church activities and the excitement of birthdays and holidays. They were busy years, but I cherished them, and in many ways, longed for them to stay. But change still comes for all of us. Elementary students grow into high school students, learning and becoming, but those years re-arrange the status quo, the security of the expected, the sameness of routines, and sometimes they do more than re-arrange, they defy. And as our children change the landscape of our lives, jobs change, bodies age, the guarded nest of our home empties, fears emerge, and fears sometimes become reality, relationships with extended family ebb and flow, the seasons of life bring change, over and over again.
And through it all, I have a heart that cries out for the kaleidoscope to stop spinning, for sameness to quiet the friction and sometimes, the heartache, of change. And God speaks through the words of John Michael Talbot’s song, Be not afraid. I go before you always. Come follow me, and I will give you rest. God spoke those words to Hagar in the wilderness of her change, alone and fearing for the life of her child. Hagar, do not be afraid. God has spoken those words to countless others in the pages of Scripture and in the millenniums of history since. He says them to me, and He says them to you. Be not afraid. I go before you always. Come follow me, and I will give you rest. He is ever present. He is unchanging in the midst of the constancy of our own change. He longs to love, to give, to encourage. Even when I walk through the darkest valley, I will not be afraid, for my God is close beside me. Change may be a constant in life, but so too is God, and His constancy is able to transcend all of my need and all of eternity.
– Bev
(Related Bible reading: Psalm 23:1-6)
