Change. I guess change is hard, isn't it? You go from doing something one way, believing a certain way, functioning a particular way, and, "all of a sudden," you have to change everything. You have to learn a different way that takes a bit more time, or requires more effort, more energy, more sacrifice, more of something. Letting go of something familiar, comfortable, and routine is a challenge. Well, I suppose it can be if you're unwilling to be patient with yourself and unwilling to disappoint others.
Often, folks say they are ready to change but deep down they are not. They are ready in their minds, but their hearts are not ready to accept all that change necessitates. There's a reluctance to give oneself over to a new thing because it's as though one is losing or giving up a part of themselves. So, great fanfare is made about readiness for change, and depending on who is speaking, their words sound as though they are change themselves. But when you sit still, you realize that these words are anchored to nothing. They are a carefully placed smokescreen, and the person's heart is tethered to a former way of thinking, and being, and believing.
I was saying to some folks how they've built a great foundation for unity for the coming generations. But later on I was thinking how, even with great foundations, people still build the same familiar things. The edifices are not much different from generations before. Perhaps there's a bit more colour, but the structure is the same. I suppose that begs the question: Does it need to be different? If something works, why change?
When you start a new family and you want to do things differently, suddenly that change makes everyone feel neglected, uncertain or unappreciated. When you start a new thing at work, suddenly everyone grumbles at the inconvenience and the additional time required to learn without extra hours or compensation. When you move to a new country, navigating new streets, or bus systems or new language feels like you're fighting for your life and the change feels too daunting to want to continue.
And perhaps we choose not to change because we don't want those around us to be uncomfortable. Or we don't want to feel like we've lost who we are or that we no longer have an anchor that makes us "us." Thus, we continue in that place that feels most secure.
We're committed to an identity, and change sometimes feels like a threat to that identity. So, even with a strong foundation we build the same structures. We don't allow creativity to flow because we're bound to familiarity and comfort. We don't take a risk to start something, quit something, separate, or give ourselves to something new because changing means a discomfort that we don't want to embrace.
And I think it applies spiritually, too. I like what my pastor said whilst preaching this past weekend: "if you want to make sense to people, you will not experience the supernatural." It means that your transformation, like Apostle Paul transforming from Saul to Paul, will leave people perplexed, doubtful, and will certainly cause discomfort. And if you don't embrace that change, choosing instead to continue the familiar "if it ain't broke why fix it" mindset, there's a dimension of life you'll miss out on.
Pastor's words resonated. I think we can, both consciously and unconsciously, strive to meet expectations that exist for everyone else's comfort. But we're not meant to live like this. You may have to branch out from the status quo to become the person that you're called to be. And you can't do that striving to walk the path carved by everyone's good intentions. Jesus had to blind Saul, and confront him on his way to performing his service and duty in order to turn his life around and initiate change in him and through him. If Apostle Paul decided to tip-toe the line of serving Christ and religious zealotry , what impact would he have made?
With Apostle Paul's transformation in mind, I suppose change doesn't have to be "hard" the way we are always saying it is. I think it's often hard because we want to make other people comfortable; we think we owe too much to someone or people --real or imagined-- to pursue a different path. We don't wholly commit to our God-given purpose, we don't allow ourselves to grow through the discomfort, the loneliness, and alienation that comes because that's more daunting than staying on the path paved perfectly for us. But I've learned that if we keep tip-toeing around people, and avoiding change, eventually the dam will break, and the aftermath will be irreparable.
