Loose Change

It's loss I don't like, not change. Loss of the things I can control, like my time, mostly. I feel like I'm in charge of that, so when something is sprung on me, it puts me off guard and sometimes upsets me, even to the point of anger at times. But that's usually when it's something that gives me the immediate gut reaction of unease. I don't know where that internal barometer is or how it gauges things, but at a split second I have already judged things, and I've learned that I need to suspend those feelings (or, accept them for the moment) and consider the situation more carefully. Often this means ultimately going against my gut reaction because I feel that it is logical to do so, although not necessarily more comfortable (i.e., less upsetting) by any means.

Most of this is very subconscious and instinctive. I'm only recently beginning to realize this kind of tendency in me has been cultivated over time and is probably a significant contributing factor in my inability to understand how God works—and how to let Him work—in my life. Literally, it means Him controlling my mind, essentially being me. That's how I understand it for now, anyway. And while all the pastors get up front and say that living with Christ is such a big adventure, go for it, it doesn't seem to be that way (and least, in the sense of it being all fun and games which is often the kind of slant I seem to hear) and even if it was, it's not like that even makes much sense when talking about an invisible God and a personal relationship. One can drop everything and go explore the Arctic at the drop of a hat, but one can't drop everything and immediately know someone else. And that's what this is about here, right? Abiding in Him and He abiding in me?

I'm changing my view of change. I am going to try and remember to not say "I don't like change" anymore, but rather "I don't like loss." The latter is much more consistently true and accurate than the former, and I like consistency and efficiency. (And I must emphasize that that thing—consistency—doesn't mean absence of change. It can be a consistency at a foundational level with truckloads of tweaks and alterations at a more surface level, which is generally what I'm talking about and what I see.) This means that I will admit to being wary of the threat of loss that succumbing to God's will surely means, but I'm also very eager, at some level, to experience the change wrought by such submission. Surely, there is a great difference. So, the loss may be great, but the change is to be greater.