After the holiday décor is back in the closet and I bring back what sits out all year long around my house, I have a hard time remembering where things used to be. Sometimes February arrives before I’m done moving things back into place. Sometimes I figure I might as well find new places for lamps and pictures and candles and give myself a change of décor-scenery.
My sister stopped over in the midst of my redecorating and decluttering enterprise and made a few suggestions. That all of a sudden made perfect sense. She stood in my living room and said I really should hang on the wall the vintage mirrors I had leaning on a table since the day I moved in. She said the mirrors would draw the eye up to a focal point and create more of a decorating statement. She asked for my hammer and we got to work.
We hung the mirrors. We exchanged lamps in my bedroom for ones in the living room. We swapped out lampshades. We discarded a huge shade overshadowing my Eiffel Tower lamp and brought it from my bedroom to its new home on the living room mantel. We moved pictures around and rearranged candles. These small changes made a difference and I liked how everything looked refreshed.
But I wish I could greet even the smallest changes that arrive in my life with a similar welcome. Often I resist them. Especially if the changes are uninvited. Or if I had no idea they were coming. Or if I didn’t have the time I thought I needed to prepare for them.
Somehow I’m always surprised how change throws me for a loop. Even good changes. Surprising ones. Ones I’m looking forward to. I think it’s hard just because it’s different from how I’m used to seeing things. I like my routine. I like to know what’s around the next corner.
A few years ago when my drive to work changed when I moved from one end of town to the other, I missed seeing my familiar shops and eateries. I actually cried the first week because I missed the familiar roads and landscapes. But after a few weeks, I grew used to the new drive and traffic patterns. Eventually, my desire to drive through my old neighborhood faded and I didn’t feel like going back.
When fear about change holds me back from the dreams in front of me and I take a look back to remind myself of where I've been, I’m surprised at how I’ve managed to adapt. That gives me hope. And strengthens my faith. And makes me eager to make other changes. Changes I’m actually wanting to make. Praying for. Like making changes in my reactions and my responses and my emotions and my perspective.
But if changes make me feel unsettled, I look up. My eyes are drawn to the one who never changes. I focus on God, who is the same yesterday, today and forever. And then I focus on his promises that will never change.
- He promises to give me strength and courage when I am discouraged and dismayed. (Jos. 1:9)
- He promises peace that is beyond my understanding when I am anxious and afraid. (Phil. 4:6-7)
- He promises to be my rock and refuge through times of change. (Ps. 62:6)
- He promises to change and renew my mind to understand his ways. (Rom. 12:2)
I couldn’t wait to get home from an evening out last weekend. I wanted to sit on my couch and enjoy the new view. Of the mirrors hanging on the wall. Of the new lamps with the new shades in their new places. And after I’ve enjoyed the view from my couch for a while, I think I’ll get up and move on to see what other changes might be waiting around the corner. That I can meet with with an open heart and welcome them into my life.
I'm linking up with fellow God-sized dreamers today at GodSizedDreams.com. Click the image to read their stories!