All my adult life I’ve been afraid of change. I’m thankful that the Lord is teaching me, in kind and gentle ways, that I can rely on His Presence.
“I’ve ruined the children.” I said to my husband the other day.
Lonny shrugged. “Maybe,” he said. Then he smiled and looped his arm around my waist.
We stood on the drive beside our strong, faithful Suburban. Our three youngest boys were inside the vehicle, blond heads visible through the windows. This family-mover has been our main mode of transportation for ten years, but we now we were selling it. The buyers would arrive shortly. The boys needed a few moments to make peace.
“It pulled our boat,” Isaiah had said.
“It’s been ours for my whole life,” Gabriel had said.
I remembered lanky-legged boys in the back and three car seats in the middle. But now crunching into one vehicle was rare, and a good-on-gas car would better meet our needs.
It’s tough for me. In turn, it’s tough for my kids.
It’s a familiar woe. I know full well that change is unavoidable. One thing we can always expect. But it still pushes to me emotional places I don’t want to go, and it brings struggle to my spirit.
Change can mean parting with the precious. What if things are never this good again?
The question stirs my soul.
After a moment, the Suburban door opened and one boy tumbled out. Then another. Then another. Their eyes were red even though each one squared his shoulders and tried to be tough.
“I’m ready,” Isaiah said. “I don’t want to sell our Suburban. But I’ll be okay.”
I looked down into his sweet, streaked face and the answer was there. It was in his eyes.
When I’m fretting over change, when worry grips and the fear of loss threatens to take a stronghold, I can trust that:
God is never-changing. (Malachi 3:6)
He promises to never leave. (Joshua 1:9)
We stood on the drive that night, together as a family, ready to hand over the keys. I understood, clasping the warm hands of those I love, that in life there would be much bigger changes than selling a vehicle. Bigger than moving into a different life phase. Some of the changes will bring delight. Others will be difficult or may devastate.
But God is fully present in the changing places.
And because He’s there, like Isaiah, I’ll be okay.