Dealing with Change

Change is inevitable. It is also terrifying for someone like me who likes to always be in control. But it seems this summer is going to be a summer of changes, and they may not be slowing down anytime soon.

As someone who doesn’t like change, I chose the wrong profession. Teachers are in control of their classrooms, but that’s about it. Every year come May, I start wondering if before next year I will have to move classrooms or not, if I will work with the same people next year or new people, which grade level I will be teaching, etc. And this year is worse than ever as my school is undergoing major change and becoming a new system, and I go back and forth from feeling excited and optimistic about the possibilities for the future, to wondering if I will even have a job.

And then last night the real bomb went off. My best friend in this city is moving. Not just to a new city, but a new state. It was the last straw, one change too many. And this is the worst type of change, because I have no control over it, and it is not a professional loss, but a personal one.

I feel like I am in mourning. What will become of our friendship? She is wonderful and people love her wherever she goes, so I know she will have no problem making friends in her new town. And I will be here, left behind, and lonely. And over time, will she forget about me? Our kids were supposed to grow up together. We were going to take trips with our families. This is not how it was supposed to be.

Not to mention my sadness for her as she is suddenly and unexpectedly uprooted from the life she has made for herself here and dropped into a new place where she knows no one.

I woke up sad this morning, and I couldn’t help it. I cried. I called my husband to talk about it. I told him, I know it seems overdramatic for me to be so sad. I mean, she is moving, not dying. We will still talk. I mean, my mother’s best friends for as long as I can remember have lived in other cities, and they are still very close.

His response was, “What are you clinging to?”

And I know he’s right. I should be clinging to God, not to people, or at least more than people. And I need to let go of my need for control and trust God’s plan. Maybe I will look back on this time in my life and think, “Wow, I grew so much from that summer. Look how much God taught me about depending on Him,” or whatever.

 But right now, I don’t really want to hear it. I just want to think about the sweet times I have spent here with my friend, and how all that is changing, and how I can’t do anything about it. And I just want to cry for a little while.

What Happened to Queen for a Day?: Reflections on Mother's Day

So on Sunday, as I grumbled and complained not-so-under-my-breath, my husband said, and “Are you always going to be in a bad mood on Mother’s Day? You did this last year, too.”

And it made me think. Why, on the one day of the year that is supposed to make me feel appreciated, affirmed, and fulfilled, was I angry and annoyed? Again??

Obviously I anticipated being treated like a queen for a day. Or maybe even a whole weekend. I mean, is it too much too expect to be waited on hand and foot by my husband, served and doted on by my perfect, well-behaved, compliant children (who, incidentally, get along well all day and don’t fight),  have everything done for me and do nothing I don’t want to do, for at least one entire day? Not to mention presents. I am a mother, after all, and it is my day.

Yet inevitably, Mother's Day did not fulfill my expectations of being the most perfect day of the year, in which everything goes according to plan. My children fought with each other. My two-year-old had a fit over who knows what. My older son had a fit because did not want to wear khaki shorts and a nice shirt for church pictures, he wanted to wear a baseball shirt and gym shorts. Not that it mattered, because we were late to church anyway. And my husband did not want to change every single diaper all day long, and we just had sandwiches for lunch because he didn’t have time to cook, and for some reason the house did not magically clean itself, even though it was my day. So yes, I was in a bad mood. This was NOT how it was supposed to go.

Clearly, my expectations were, er, a little high. One might even say unreasonable. And my attitude was, well, not so great. Fallen, even.

Because in the end, I wanted my husband to anticipate my every need and desire and fulfill my deepest longings, but the only One who can do that is Christ. And I wanted my children to be perfect and sinless, but they are sinful and imperfect, and in need of a Redeemer, just like me. Despite my family’s best efforts, and the truth is they were very sweet to me and tried to make my day special, my expectations of a perfect family in a perfect world will never be fulfilled in this life. Just like I will never be a perfect wife or mother. Not even on Mother's Day. Thank God for showing me that I am still in need of His mercy and grace. Yes, even on Mother's Day.