Monday, August 22, 2011

step by step

I've been walking through daydreams lately that are more like those awful nightmares when you dream of showing up for the first day of school, only to discover you are naked. I've been tossing and turning, wide awake, going through ideas, and possibilities, and fears, while my husband, sleeping beside me, wakes to his own fears of our son struggling at his new school.

It's a time of transition for our family, and we tend to do them on a big scale. I remember being in seminary, newly married, and moving to a new city for two new jobs and a new home, while trying to juggle coursework for classes 3 hours away. The next year brought job promotions, a new house, graduation, and ordination. Then came the children, in quick succession, after adjusting to a couple of dogs, and then a new house. Now, eight years later, John and I are each adjusting to new jobs while we anticipate our son's first day of kindergarten, and our daughter's entry into a new (to her) preschool. You would think we would be used to it by now!

Who really enjoys change? Although I've been dreaming of it, anticipating it, praying for it (Dear God in heaven, PLEASE!!), the reality of it is staggering. It's leaving the comfort and security (the apathy and laziness?), the familiarity (the safety?), and facing the fear (can I? will I?). It's stepping out in faith or bravado, innocence or ignorance; it's facing a future that isn't written by me, but by God. The big transitions in my life are never my own plans. No, my plans are meek and small and static. God, however, enjoys shaking me up, and filling me with a passion that knows no bounds. It isn't comfortable or easy or predictable, but it is sustaining and exhilarating, and full of love.

It's a lesson in letting go of control, which is a constant battle for me. The battle will be even more fierce when I have to surrender control of my sweet boy's life as he goes off into the bigger world of school. I worry about his acceptance, and who will be his friends, and if he can learn to lead as much as he follows. I don't worry about his skills or competence or academics, but I worry about his heart and the quality of what his quick mind takes in. How will he find his way (figuratively, not literally...well, maybe a bit of that, too)? I know this transition will be good for all of us, but what will be the cost as we begin the life-long process of separation?

It all comes down to faith, and faith, I'm learning, isn't something that you ever just have. I'm always growing in faith, slowly, incrementally, through each new change. Each experience brings more faith, just enough to guide me to that next step. Through the process I will always have enough, if I can just let go and trust in the God that has placed each step before me. Thanks be to God.

1 comment:

  1. We are always learning, no matter how much we think we have. Glad we are learning together. Glad you are teaching me. Glad you are here.