Treasuring Change

Everybody’s changing, and I don’t feel the same. 

-Keane

But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead. 

-The Apostle Paul, Letter to the Philippians

Last Tuesday, my favorite and I celebrated two whole years of marriage together. It’s hard to imagine that not too long ago, we were planning wedding festivities and future plans together. Now we are in the middle of this astounding marriage between two imperfect but wholly commited people. Two years into this change, I still marvel at God’s grace and joy at blessing me in this way. It is the beautiful making, the growing, of me.

Yet in the midst of joyfully learning and embracing being one in life, I am realizing more and more the need for some silence, for some solitude. The older I get, the more changes I go through, and the more time I need to just think about them. I balk at most of them, to be honest. Through all the large ones and small ones alike-I usually grit my teeth and just try to get through the change. In the past few  years, there have been things like marriage, job changes, health changes, food-allergy changes, and relationship changes, just to name a few.

I was reminded recently during our small group of the life of Mary, the mother of Jesus, in the context of transition. I hadn’t really thought before how much transition and change she went through. She was told she would be the mother of God, then she was called upon to let go of that responsibility in leaps and bounds throughout her life. A missing-for-three-days 12-year old Jesus told her and Joseph that he was merely going about his father’s business...and not Joseph’s business. She was abruptly told that his real mother, his real family were those who did the will of his father in heaven. She was constantly being tugged and pulled upon to change; indeed, she had no other choice but to embrace all these changes for the good of the gospel. She had to step aside and lay down her God-given role as Jesus’ earthly mother, so he could become the Savior of the world, of her world.

How did she do it? I mean, really? The more I think about it, the more amazing her story and life becomes. We are told consistently that she pondered, that she treasured, that she stored up the events and words of these transitions. Was that her secret to not imploding? Not to merely ruminate or notate, but to treasure the change. What does that really mean? What does He want me to treasure, to ponder, to store up in my heart? What does He want me to let go of, in order to make way for positive new things? I am not a gracious changer! Not even with the good things. I burrow deep down in my little life, clench the earth in my tight greedy fingers, clinging to what I know in the shadows. Even when I'm gently called upon by my God to come out into the sunlight and dance. Dance in the new gifts He's given me. Dance throughout the changes. To grow more flexible, to open my closed hands more readily. He wants to shower gifts of freedom, laughter, purpose, meaning, health, strength, grief, joy. My head is usually tucked in, my arms crossed, my eyes closed to the good things of God. One of those very good things is...change. I've always seen change as the mortal enemy. Change takes away the familiar, the usual, the cozy-worn-in-slipper feeling of my life. Changes bring bracing winds, reviving rain through a constant need for decision, a constant need for Jesus. Surely the gift of decision...how will we choose our life's path...how will we handle change thrust upon us...how will we respond to daily joys and sorrows, to pain of all kinds, to life-changing events...is a true joy, a true responsibility.

I'm finally realizing that I can embrace change with joy and courage. My head doesn't have to hang low...I don't just have to grit my teeth and hold on. Even though that is sometimes all I feel I can do! But it seems that somewhere deep inside, I have the guts and the determination and the know-how to change with grace and confidence. We don't just have to love change for the sake of change, either. We don't just have to "treasure" seemingly random change or difficult transition without any reason. The reason is because we are born to change. Changing means growth. I’m realizing that of course, I don't want to stay the same! I do want to grow...and that does mean transition by necessity. Perhaps this is one reason Jesus used the metaphor of the vine and the branch when illustrating the life of a lover of God-because learning to abide means learning to change. The branch grows around and into and takes hold of the vine, the root, the trunk-the source of strength and existence. And it's beautiful and natural and good and hard to change. It takes seasons and time and all kinds of weather for a tree to fully mature. Here's to growing up in hope, faith, and love, looking forward with joy.

A Very Hard Thing

I had a really good thought today. This afternoon, I was in that dangerous place of succumbing to what I believe Joy the Baker calls the Sunday Afternoon Blues-that spot of feeling down because the weekend is ending, the work week is looming, and there’s just so much to do that another TV marathon seems the only option. So I pulled out my pumpkin coffeecake recipe and got to work. I pulled out my coconut oil, my rice flour, my local honey. I put my coffee grinder to good use-ground flax seeds mixed with warm water make a wonderful egg substitute. In the middle of melting oil and mixing dry ingredients, I realized that I was doing it. I was doing A Very Hard Thing without even thinking about it.

Let me back up a little.

Back in July, my results for food allergy testing came in, and I was diagnosed with dairy, egg, and wheat allergies, as well as bananas and pineapples. For this girl who loves food, who heartily believes baking is a perfect joy in this world, the news was heart-wrenching. While nice to finally have an answer to some health issues I’ve had, this sort of answer wsasn’t exactly welcomed. It came over me in stages what having such allergies meant, and I found myself saying goodbye to favorite foods: butter, milk, omelets, baked goods, Nutella, cheese, sour cream, cream cheese, alfredo sauce, half and half, etc. I went through a kind of mourning, actually. But I mustered up the courage to research what to eat, new meals, new ways of eating, and working at making these new foods delicious.

Back to the present.

This afternoon, I was going about my daily life and indulging in one of my all-time favorite things: baking. I didn’t stop to think about what I’d lost in not being able to use “real” flour, “real” butter. It felt so good to realize that this new way of doing things, of doing life, is my new normal. It feels normal and easy to reach for once-foreign ingredients like coconut oil and rice flour. It’s such a sigh of relief to be satisfied with how these new ingredients taste. My very taste buds have changed. This feels really good. Four months ago, baking with these ingredients would have been daunting, even emotional. But today, this Once Very Hard Thing turned out to not be so hard after all.

Apparently, it can take the body months to heal from years of food allergies. I can’t say that all the changes have made life perfect or my body completely happy. But today’s realization was a major triumph and a huge step in the right direction. In seeing that one of my favorite things can still be enjoyed, just in a different way, and with a lot more coconut oil.