Tag Archives: change

Embracing Permanence

10 May


The other day I drove past another place that’s been erased from my past.

The trees were overgrown, and I barely recognized the familiar road until I got to the entrance.

I felt an ache in my gut: part anxiety, part sadness, part nostalgia, part relief,

It’s the same feeling I get when driving past the trailer I grew up in in the middle of the woods in New Hampshire.

“You better not leave me, or I might disappear into nothingness,” my husband joked.


I have a weird history of being a part of things that no longer exist. 

1. 2 out of the 3 High Schools I went to shut down.

2. My first job and the main place I worked when I was 16-18 was also a town landmark to get old-fashioned ice cream shakes, burgers, and fish & chips. It burned to the ground.

3. Teen Mania, which I mentioned above, is the ministry which was the center of my existence when I was 18-22, no longer exists.

4. Youth With A Mission Woodcrest, a small branch of a large ministry where I attended a writing program and ended up traveling all over the world with when I was 22-25, pretty much dissolved.

5. Also, the coffee shop I spent years of my life at either hanging out in or working at is no more.

It’s kinda funny, I know. But here I am at almost 31 and I guess there is not much left in terms of my youth but memories.

I spent those years somewhat of a wanderer, living on a bus and in shared homes and rooms, and I loved everyone moment of it, but then I grew tired and wondered what I was running away from.

Add this to a hundred unfinished projects, and dreams I’ve almost given up on.

I guess what I am saying is while many things may be out of my control,  I do have the tendency to jump from one thing to another too fast. Or maybe it’s just the way my life goes. Lately, it has slowed down quite a bit.

I’ve also had the tendency to view people as temporary, too. Like they will just be out of my life soon anyways, why get close? Although, those few that I really let in, stay forever.

I know it’s immature now. I know I can’t just live like a rolling stone my whole life and truly find happiness.

So now my tune has changed, and I while I know there are plenty of adventures to come, I just want a sense of permeance.

I long to put some roots down in a community, and I finally feel like I actually can.

I know I can be connected to a group of people without thinking in the back of my mind, “Soon they will be gone, so what’s the point?”

I want to feel at home in a town. To know the people there, and to let them know me.

I desire to grow something stable and permanent. To plant a seed and watch it grow until years go by and I can sit under its shade with my children’s children.

Yet, to continue to grow and change. To continue to pursue adventure, while still knowing that I always have a safe place to return to.

And I know my husband, my family, is home. 

I know everything changes and nothing is truly permanent on this earth.

But what truly matters, is.

While these things fade, love remains. 



Tight-Rope Walking Across Manhatten

3 Oct


I used to be so in love with it. I still am, but it’s more of a complex, love-hate relationship. Now, it brings worry that seems less easy to brush off, it clings to me causing occasional sleeplessness and intense feelings of anxiety.

Change comes dressed in a variety of ways lately, in the big things like my name having several different letters and in reorienting my life with another person. It shows itself in packed-up boxes and the abandonment of paintings that have been hanging on my walls for years. It’s apparent in the heat in the air beginning to lift, and the joy of waking next to my husband. Chang is in getting used to that word, and other new words.

Last week I stood in the mud by the side of the highway next to my broken-down car, two days after my husband’s car kicked the bucket, the day before we had to move out of our apartment, four days before I would seriously start looking for a new job. (I know. Seriously. Right?)

Changes. Once you finally settle into one thing, it’s time to let go of it, time to embrace another one that is about to run full force into your life.

And you’ve got to make room for it.

Room in your brain and your heart.

Room where the old has lived so long, you’ve allowed the dust to form, grey and thick.

You’ve got to sweep, let some fresh air in. It gets too musty when things remain the same.

I read this quote by Jeanette Winterson the other day, and it made me feel normal again, glad I wasn’t the only one who at times feels too weary to clean my teeth.

There’s a strange thing that happens when you go from your early to your late twenties. Maybe it’s normal, it’s only weird because I am currently in the midst of it.

Growing up.

I guess I felt so strongly I would always be this crazy-adventurous, antsy, flexible person who was so afraid of “settling.”

Now I find myself balking at change, making decisions based on how comfortable I will feel, and stressing at the first sign of things going wrong.

“I used to secretly love it when the bus I lived on broke down,”

I confessed to my husband as we waited for rescue on the side of the highway next to my dead car.

“Yes, but that was different. You didn’t own the bus. It wasn’t your responsibility.

Responsibility. Adulthood. Bills. Financial decisions.

It comes all upon you at once.

Like joy and pain and life happening.

And you know what? Even when things seem overwhelming and insane, I’d rather have everything at once.

And I’d rather be where I am in life right now, because I am not living life alone.

I’d rather have change and be uncomfortable than stand still.

And I am not afraid of “settling” anymore.

What I am afraid of, is not having eyes to see that all of this is an adventure.

Even if it’s not the kind that will become a best-selling-book-turned-blockbuster…. yet.

I am afraid I won’t see the beauty in change. It’s hard in Texas where the autumn doesn’t announce itself in a burst of color like New England, and you have to relay on coffee shops with their seasonal flavors and piles of pumpkins in store fronts, far away from the farm they came from.

My biggest fear though, is that I’ll stop looking for those things, I’ll stop finding things to be in awe about. I’ll take life for granted and have nothing to write.

But I am proving myself wrong right now, because the for the first time in a while I am able to put words to just what is going on around me and inside me.

Change is happening, and will continue to happen, and it is beautiful.

And one day, in the midst of all these crazy life changes,  maybe I will feel as if I could tight-rope walk across Manhattan.


Dear Wall Street Protestors,

8 Oct

I don’t know what it’s like to be you, but I do understand the warm feeling surging inside that comes from knowing you are a part of something bigger than yourself. I can relate to the pride in knowing that you are finally standing up to face “the man,” a David throwing stones at Goliath’s head.

I know you believe you are changing society, one voice at a time, and I get that. I love your passion. I love to see my generation getting off their couch, not just posting on Facebook about something, but rallying together and refusing to back down until change happens.

I know you’ve all been waiting for something to believe in, but I have to wonder, is this it?

Is there a better way?

I know what it feels like to feel like a victim, how easy it is to blame some mass conglomerate blurry face of evil for screwing you over, but let me tell you, it never ends well.

The need for justice is never satisfied. If you fight hate with hate no one wins.

I know you may be hurt, you may have suffered and I am not downplaying that.

But, do you want really overcome? You want to be a real hero? Try standing for something instead of against something. I feel convicted when I write this and I know it’s harder, it sucks practicing what you preach, and it’s in that place where you come face to face with your own hypocrisy.

It’s easy to throw out judgments on those big bad corporations, but what am I doing with my own money? How am I selfishly hoarding it instead of helping those in need?

How am I using my creativity to create jobs instead of complaining that there isn’t any?

How am I being Jesus to my neighbors? Do I realize it’s not the government’s responsibility to take care of those in need, but the churches? And I am the church.

No matter what is going on in Wall Street or the White House,  it shouldn’t  affect how I live my life and treat others, how I can bring change through love and grace.

It’s easier to yell and blame “the man,” and I know that.

We want to put a face on the problem, but real change comes when each of us realize “I am the problem,” and seek a solution outside of ourselves.

So, while I think it’s awful what our country has become and I hate the greed that drives things, while I can’t stand the injustice of arrests and the agenda of the media, while I love the passion and energy you display, I can’t say, dear Wall Street protestors, I am behind what you are doing.

Maybe true revolution comes quietly, and starts when each person stops being a victim and realizes the world is what we make it, that good is all around us, we just have to open our eyes.

Maybe we can all start directing our passion towards creating new things, offering new solutions, loving our neighbors and using our own resources to change things.

Then, people will be so drawn to the newness, the old system will inevitably collapse.



%d bloggers like this: