Sunday, May 23, 2010


When I know why a change is or is not occurring I can normally accept it. I may not like it, approve of it, or even want it – but I can accept it. There are sometimes though I just rail against the change, the transitions in life that leave me feeling as if I am in transit, stuck in the back of some cab that is heading east while I’m wanting to go south. Where is the control? Can I have a steering wheel here in the back seat? And a brake pedal too?
It’s been a week of changes; many transitions have hit me this week. With nearly one per day of major transitions, I was left feeling my eyes grow teary at the last one. No more! I know life is not static. I know that change will and must occur, but not in such close succession.
And at the same time I am trying to keep it all together, in that moment when I had no words and a completely stunned look on my face, I know there are other transitions I would love to make but have not had the opportunity. What a dichotomy, what strange mishmash of perceived wants with transitions avoided and transitions sought in nearly the same breath. No wonder women are confusing to men. It’s not so much that we change our minds as we haven’t really explained that there are no hard fast rules only lots of little minute ones, with great subtlety and sub text. A list grows in my mind even now of transitions I would willingly and gladly make in my life, but they do not occur. Others which I find unpleasant or completely surprising, they come with frequency.
This makes me think; perhaps I have the whole transition thing backwards. Maybe I should want the ones which are occurring and not want the ones which aren’t occurring. Or, if not want – maybe I should be quicker to accept them.
It must seem as if I am talking in code. Let me back up and start again. A friend is moving, transitioning, to a new and wonderful stage of her life – motherhood. I am saying good-bye to my friend as a co-worker, as a co-worker who lives multiple states away. Will we lose touch? Will we just drift apart without topics of workplace function and process to keep us talking? At the same time, she is taking on a wonderful and noble transition which I would love to do. My heart, while being so incredibly pleased for her, aches for me. And yet, the ache is tempered by a desire for God’s will, a trust in God’s plan. It changes the hurt from a raw wound, to one that is being treated and bandaged properly. Unfortunately, this hurt is not one cured by a shot or sitting just so. I have to turn this over to God and let him heal it for me.

Perhaps I do have the whole transition thing backwards. Maybe the wanted transitions are just God’s way of wanting our attention.