THE BEAUTY OF CHANGE
Have you ever had one of those moments where you’re really excited about your future and then suddenly, out of nowhere, you’re slammed with a million questions and your elation melts into an overwhelmed puddle?
Earlier this week I had one of those moments. I can’t wait for this year to happen, yet the practical reality of juggling multiple projects, managing my busy household and having to make a continuous stream of important decisions, took a toll on my mood. Needing unhurried time with my Creator, I decided to walk along the beach.
Orewa Beach is a three kilometer stretch of sand not far from where my children go to school, so that was my destination. Leaving my phone in the car, I started towards one end. As I walked, I found myself facing a familiar location; the place where the estuary meets the ocean at the end of the beach. There’s a strip of grass and a small sandy expanse. At low tide, you can walk around the rocks to another tiny, sandy bay. It’s a safe place, both practically because it’s small enough that I can keep my eye on all four children and the dog at the same time and psychologically because I know this place.
A lot of time has been spent at this little beach on the other side of the river, either on my own or with family. I've processed a lot of important decisions there. I know the concrete bunker where I've sat and journalled or just rested when I couldn't write. I know the plaque in the ground that says, “…Anna loved the beach.” And I know how far the rubbish bin is if it’s needed [insert smiley face emoticon]. The estuary was somewhere I gravitated to and often ended up when I needed time out.
But today, I wasn't there, I was standing opposite my familiar place. In a sense, it was if I had “crossed over”. I was no longer confined to the small patch of sand and grass that edged the estuary, I was on the beach where the sand stretched further than I could see and the ocean extended to the horizon. I was standing in a spacious place, free from restriction and it felt refreshing.
Yet, I realized that sometimes a spacious place can also feel overwhelming. It’s different; things are no longer familiar. It’s going to take time to learn and get familiar with the details of my new place. Decisions still need to be made in new seasons but I no longer have the comfort of the familiar to help guide those decisions. Thankfully, I have the ultimate help with the Spirit of Truth (John 16:13).
As I stood and looked, I had three potential views:
The endless stretch of sand ahead of me; it speaks of the future. I don’t know all that it holds and I can’t see beyond the corner but I can trust the One who holds my future. He is always good and the plans He has for me hold hope (Jeremiah 29:11). He is also my strength (Psalm 18:1) when life throws curve-balls.
The waves rolling in from the side; they speak of the present moment. I can stop looking forward, trying to figure everything out and I can take a breather to appreciate right where I am and the scenery around me. In every moment, there is something to be grateful for (1 Thessalonians 5:18).
The estuary behind me; this is my past. What lies behind is familiar because I've been there. I can enjoy the memories and appreciate the learning that’s contributed to my growth as a person. But if I want the ease of my “safe place”, it means I will have to leave the beach of my future to go and stand back on the sands of comfort; I can’t live in the past and have my future simultaneously. I must make a choice.
As the sand massaged my feet, the breeze lightly on my face as I breathed the salt air, I felt the weight of uncertainty gently lift off on my shoulders. It was exchanged for the beauty of this moment. The future is mine, I’m only required to take one step at a time. Each step I take is further along the beach and into what’s ahead. Every time I feel overwhelmed, I can stop and look out to the waves and be grateful for the good things in my life. And when nostalgic comfort comes knocking, I can be appreciative of what I've learnt, the people I've met and I can smile and continue taking walking up the beach.
