It’s hard to write when you are surrounded by a swirling vortex of change. Thoughts and stories are whipped away by the wind. You might do your best to grab them as they circle round, but it’s likely they’ll be shredded by the time you recover them.

That’s my position the last few weeks. I’ve always known our future was hidden in the mist. When we moved here, to the townhouse, two years ago, we knew we’d move at least once more before we settled down. The townhouse has been a wonderful rest stop, but it’s not the final destination. (Lest that be too cryptic: We need more space for our family and we desperately need a yard.)

But suddenly, the mist is starting to melt away. And the future, previously gray and shapeless, is starting to form into something resembling … well, something. It’s hard to tell still.

All I know is, I’m hurting my mental eyes as I strain to make out what’s ahead.

On one hand, I’m excited about the next chapter in the adventure. I can’t say I dislike change. I’m invigorated by it. I’m easily bored by the same. (Interesting future post: How I struggle to balance my lust for the new with God’s decree to be content.) There’s a part of my soul that’s being re-energized by the approaching possibilities.

But there’s another part of me that is frustrated by the uncertainty. I’m definitely a sanguine. But I’m also a planner. I thrive on organization. And change, by its very nature, is hard to control.

A good editor would slash this paragraph, because it doesn’t advance the story, but I’m going to share it anyway. I was poking around The Secret Life of Kat this last week and came across a Q&A she did with Shaun Groves. And Shaun described his wife, Becky, this way:
My wife is my opposite in most ways. For one thing, she’s intensely organized. Organization is her drug. I sometimes wonder if we had kids just so she’d have more people to keep know, in case she got bored after getting my life together.
I laughed out loud. If organization is a drug, then yes, I’m an addict. I make menus before I go grocery shopping. I do the laundry every Tuesday. I organize my children’s books (although not alphabetically; even I’m not that sick.) I have a system for everything. This makes me uber-productive, so I’m OK with the weirdness. But sometimes, it does start to control me. And when the winds of change start to roar around me, my inner control-freak wants to scream. But HOW is it going to work? And WHERE are we going to live? And HOW CAN WE BE SURE this is the right thing?

Ahhh. And there’s the rub. I want facts, not faith. I want a well-defined path ahead of me, not one that is veiled in mystery and suspense.

But that is not the life of a disciple. God’s best adventures are lived out in the unknown. And there’s no better time to exercise what I believe about God than in the eddy of change.

Which means I’m trying to do one of the most unnatural things in all of humanity -- I’m trying to face the vortex with peace, joy and a strong infusion of believing God.

Because while I don't know the future, I do know Him.


  1. Something about this reminded me of a Sara Groves song...

    I am not organized. Well, with my time I am, but not my possessions. And I like change, but only when I feel it's a controlled change. Like the new baby. It will be a boy or a girl. I'm okay with not knowing now because the possibilities are very few. Other changes, though, require more faith, like you said. Uh, that seems to be all I got. :)

  2. I am in a constant struggle to balance my yearning for change with my need for routine. Try and figure that one out.

    Can't wait to hear what happens. It sounds exciting!

  3. I love this post. It hits me right where I need it. Trust ... it's hard. I like answers and I like them right now. I'm not a fan of waiting. However, God always seems to like to put me in these positions. Seems like I should have learned a thing or two by now.

  4. Oh my goodness, I'm just going to keep repeating that to myself all day long. I don't know the future, but I do know Him. Over. And over. And OVER. Yes, yes, yes.

  5. It all sounds very exciting but I understand how hard the waiting for clarity can be. Prayers for peace as the road shifts and leads you to another exciting chapter!

  6. Yes, me, too. Well, wait. No, I'm not organized. But yes, I do know Him and I'm reminded daily (hourly) THAT is what matters right now.

    Looking forward to revelation of more of what you are talking about here, friend.

  7. haha! Wait a minute. That was me. Forgot to sign out of my "work" account. :)

  8. I hear you, girl. I like my ducks in a row, and when they get out of line, it makes me crazy.

    I really think you need to move to Texas. Lots of yard space down here!

  9. Oh yes, you nailed it. We don't need to know the details when we know the Master Planner.
    Makes me think of that verse (which I can't for the life of me remember the reference to) where it says "by faith, Abraham obeyed....even though he did not know where he was going."

  10. I resist change. It's hard. Nice to meet you. I'm a neighbor of Heather of the E.O.

  11. There were 3 Megans in a row in your comments. Just saying.

    Now I'm so curious about your changes...

    And I'm so inspired by your perspective.

    Just last Sunday, I listened to a Bethel (gasp) professor talk about faith. He said we need faith with good eyesight. The kind that can see way ahead, beyond the current mist, the current mystery. I liked that. Faith with good eyesight.

  12. It's all these long, brief days later and I'm thinking you wrote this for me. I needed this this morning. It's nice ot meet you by the way. 'Hullo.' This post made be breathe a sigh of trust and the Colorado pictures brought a wave of nostalgia.... I grew up there! I miss it. I think Becky Groves wife and I are twins. ;) Thanks for reminding that it is all about Who I know.