Change is an interesting creature.
I call it “creature” because it’s a dynamic, living, breathing, sometimes-monster-appearing thing that can embrace me like an unwelcome hug. It can feel warty and weird because it’s not often invited. Rarely appreciated. Often reviled.
Kind of like a politician.
Change can bring wonderful opportunities for fun and adventure. New experiences provide a chance to explore areas of my character that I don’t often trot out for public viewing. Those areas that require me to let go of the “doing” part of my personality and relax in the “being” part. That part is often kept under lock and key by the “doing” part.
Change happens with a baby in the house.
Noise becomes an issue. My noise. I’m loud. I yell through the house to talk to John when I’m in another room. Mel is constantly shushing me because the baby’s asleep. The TV is too loud. I turn it up so I can hear it from whatever room I am in the house. Mel turns it down.
Then there’re Sloane’s noises.
She’s yakky for a little girl. She coos–really. And because she eats so quickly, she’s gassy.
She cries. It’s her way of communicating what she needs. At eight weeks of age, I can try to help her vocalize her opinions with clarity. It won’t work.
Sloane is a baby. I understand what she is and isn’t capable of doing at this age.
I drift into thoughts that she should be acting more like my older grandkids. Who are of an age where you can reason with them. (Not always effectively.) Where you can tell them what they need to do, and they do it. (Not all the time.) Where you can help them understand the consequences for unacceptable behavior. (Which doesn’t always work.)
Sloane is a reminder that change is a daily occurrence. Every day is a new learning opportunity for her. She’s in a state of constant amazement at what she’s discovering. She’s not always comfortable with the changes–Mel is great at discerning her needs, but sometimes there’s something more that Sloane can’t help her understand. Crying shows her frustration.
Crying shows my frustration.
Change is relative to how I’m feeling about my world. If I’m in a good place, feeling well and have a handle on things, change is a fun challenge. If I’m tired, fearful, confused, or overwhelmed, change is a trial, a testing of my strength and will.
Jesus reminded us that this world wouldn’t be what we expect it to be. It isn’t ever a truly safe haven.
But He is.
Change will happen whether we’re prepared for it or not. Some changes look like horrible storms, seeking to sink us in despair or defeat. Other changes are gentler but can be annoying because they’re unexpected or unplanned.
Jesus is the same yesterday, today and forever. A constant in my life that supports me when I’ve got nothing left. The constant that allow me to embrace what I’m not willing to deal with.
For Sloane, growth is constant change.
Maybe dealing with change is an area of growth for me.