As I write this, I'm sitting at
the bar facing the windows of my favorite coffee shop. I love the
open feel of the place, the light streaming in from the street, the
white and wood detail with the little cream colored lights trailing around the
banister of the upper level of tables. It's a peaceful place and
they never bother you if you are here and haven't bought anything.
For someone like me who can't afford to buy a drink every time I come
in, it's a definite "selling" point. Outside the rain is falling
and people are making their way here and there, maybe shopping for a new
pair of red shoes, searching for a good Thai restaurant, or, like me,
merely needing to be out in community without actually talking to
anyone. It all puts me in a reflective train of thought.
Where the train is going I cannot say; I just know I'm on it.
This train has been in my life
for a while now. I call it the train of change and God is the
train conductor. I know I'm on the train, I know it's chugging along the
tracks, but I have little idea as to where it's headed. It's a
hard place to live in - the unknown. There are more questions than
answers and I have no reply to those who ask them. But being on
the train, not having
the answers, is sure making me ask a lot more questions, ones I have not
been willing to ask or to consider answers I would have never believed
to be true. It's a scary train to be riding on for this journey is
made up of nothing but trust.
During the ride, we learn a new
paradox as we realize all at the same time how much power we hold in our lives and
how little control we possess. We learn of the power we hold
to make our own choices and are at the same time surprised when the
winds of change blow through our lives whether or not we have invited
them in. We are simply left with the question of which wind shall
we sail into? It has been said that destinations are where we
begin again and isn't that so true? We think we have reached the
end of a journey and instead of returning, which you can never really do
after a journey, we begin a new one. We are are asked to reboard
the train. We dedicate our lives to one
thing and then find it falling through our fingers only leaving a trace
of memory with the whispered inquiry, "Now what?"
Throughout our lives, things
change; we change, sometimes without warning. Our lives change.
The question I'm asking now and the question I find so many of us
asking, is what are our lives changing into? What is the new
normal? (But believe me, as soon as we get comfortable with the
new normal, things will change again.) Our lives are not meant to
be static, they are meant to change. A plant cannot stay in the
same pot , a river does not stay stagnantly in a pool. The plant
grows, stretching out its roots, and the river changes its course, it
alters the environment in which it passes and flows on to new places.
We are much the same. However much I hate to admit it, I like
change and I don't like change. Change appeals to me when I'm
tired of the ruts yet it's really hard to let some of those ruts go.
Sometimes I hold onto the ruts because I see them as a rock to
hold onto, something that won't change. They are my security. But then a couple of weeks
ago, God asked me if I love the ruts and the rocks more than I love him.
Ouch. That question hit home. Do I trust in the security of
relationships and place more than I trust in God's love and desire for
me to grow and learn? Do I want the lights in my life more than I
want to be a light?
So I sit on the train with all
these unknowns, trying to enjoy their company but really struggling with
having them around as traveling companions. They aren't the
comforting or even kind companions I would have picked given the choice,
but the selection wasn't mine. We never know who and where our
growth will come from, we never know where the train will go.
Whether to get on the train or not was the choice God gave me. Do
I preserve my security and stifle my growth and the light I could be or
do I let go of my grip and free-fall into the arms I know are waiting
for me somewhere down below? As many times as God has caught me
before, I am still nervous about where the train is going. I want
a ticket with where we're headed and a map so I can follow along on the
way. But that is not the choice God gives us with change. He
stands by the steps to the train inviting us to board. He asks for
our trust, probably because we would not be ready for the answer yet.
But to get there, we have to get on the train without knowing which
direction we're going. It is one of the most courageous things we
do. Yet somehow I believe it is always worth it in the end.
When God himself is the conductor, what else could it be? He
respects us. He loves us. He knows exactly how to help us
get where we need to go. The train of change is a good place to
be.