Thursday, December 22, 2011

Adaptability, Change, and the Holidays


My senior year of college, my senior exit class for my major (youth ministry) had me take a strengths inventory profile/assessment.  The end result gave me my top five most prominent strengths.  In order, my number two result was “adaptability”.

If I had been drinking a beverage when I first received these results, it probably would have been spewed in a dramatic array over the whole of my computer screen.  “Adaptability?  Seriously?”  I cringed.  I moaned. And I laughed.  This inventory had to be mistaken.  I. Hate. Change.  My classmates and some personal evaluation helped me realize that acting in adaptability when needed and pushing forward regardless of the changes arising is in fact a strength of mine.  Life has demanded change and so I have worked around it and with it and apparently that makes me adaptable.  I ran this recently by just a coworker or two briefly who nodded and said “you go with the flow, no questions asked. You’re adaptable.” *Sigh*

Part of me still wanted to hit my head.  While I am glad it is what other people see – as I don’t want to be a person so caught up in “what isn’t” that “what IS” becomes neglected, under served, unmanaged, or missed – if I had my way, I would not choose to be adaptable.  Inside, change makes me cringe.  Without fail.  I like normalcy.  I value consistency.  In fact, I had a moment of celebration when I realized the loss of some current staff and addition of some new ones would not cause me to lose my office mailbox as it has been alphabetically placed. 

I just like when some things stay the same...

It’s a shame then that over the course of this year absolutely everything has changed.  I’ll refrain by giving labels like “for the good” or “for the bad” but everything has changed.  Or so it feels. 2011 marks the first year that has not included be as a student...since 1992!  Change. I no longer live in my parent’s home and am basically independent (minus the part where I still rely on Dad’s health insurance benefits and can’t actually move out of their home because I work a job that provides housing but my life doesn’t actually fit into my 10x10 bedroom).  Change. Oh!  I have a job.  I have been working a job I basically enjoy that doesn’t actually use my major very much for almost a year.  That’s not like before at all.  Change. My sister is married.  Change.  I have a brother-in-law.  Change.  This was the first summer in almost a decade that I wasn’t involved in ministry at Wesley Woods.  Change.  I don’t have an active cancer diagnosis for the first time since 2007.  Change.  I could keep going.  Seriously...not much in my life (minus the fact I still puke like a champ – dumb consistency) has stayed the same. 

I could have pre-anticipated such a year.  I could have because just about this time last year is when I first felt like everything I had known to be a place of stability in my life was being ripped from underneath of me.  I kept saying things like “Well, if that’s gone, at least I still have...”  as I continually reached out for other places of consistency. As a kid who grew up in a handful of places and needs both hands to recount every school, I was familiar with change and I held tight to the things that always stayed the same...

The biggest “...at least I still have...” at this point last Christmas was, well, Christmas.  For years Christmas has been getting weird.  I think it is because I am getting old.  Christmas has lost some of its magic and charm.  And ever since getting “sick” and being diagnosed the day after Christmas four years ago, a lot of the “little things” which used to make Christmas seemed to disappear.  My family was too busy and there were more important things to worry about.  But there was still something intrinsically the same about Christmas to cling to and yet, I was losing the pieces. Last year I was mourning their loss.  The hours spent on a Saturday decorating the tree and the house.  The time spent creating a mess in mom’s kitchen making candies and chocolate covered pretzels and homemade tootsie rolls.  The planning and crafting and making.  The detailed debate over what ornaments to acquire or make or find that year (I (each of us) have a specific ornament for each year so by the time I was, well, this old, I could move out and have ornaments that meant something to put on my own tree...) We would practice for church Christmas programs while watching all of the classics on TV and fighting over whether or not we had gotten through our own collection of Christmas-must-watch movies.  And when all was said and done, we would get dressed and go to Christmas Eve services and then come home and change into pajamas in time to open up presents as a family.  In the morning we would all load into the car and head to Grandpa and Grandma’s for the day.  Christmas.

But last year everything officially changed when my older sister wouldn’t be home for Christmas and so we didn’t open gifts on Christmas Eve.  We came home and nobody knew what else to do...it’s just what we always did.  And then everything changed again when Grandpa and Grandma announced the fact that it would be the last big family Christmas at their house.  Christmas was being relegated to each and their own.  And there went my last “...at least there is still...”  Christmas was gone.  Call me embittered but I am still having a hard time stomaching the change and transition as this holiday season closes in.

In fact, more things change this year.  My sister and brother-in-law won’t be home for Christmas and we won’t celebrate without them.  But they will be home later when my younger sister will be out of the country.  And there are like three services to go to after which time, undoubtedly, my brothers will watch football and my parents will fall asleep and that will be Christmas.  So what?

I don’t like change.  I don’t want to adapt this newest take on a holiday that, let’s face it, is defined by tradition – of which mine don’t really exist anymore.  And when people ask about what I’m doing for Christmas – I cringe.  I think the way things have to fall this years sucks.  And maybe I don’t want to celebrate if I can’t do it the way I want to!  The way we always have...

That would be honest.  And also immature.  Ridiculous.  And self-absorbed. 

Some things have to change.  Change is inevitable.  Nothing is going to remain permanently consistent and it’s just dumb that so much change has had to happen all in one year leaving my completely overwhelmed by “all that isn’t”. 

But if that’s all I focus on, I still miss it. Especially at Christmas time.  In the midst of everything I think I need to take place for it to feel like Christmas is the reality of the season.  Christ.  The reason a tradition of a holiday – something consistent – is the same reason God ordained certain holy days among the Israelites.  So that they wouldn’t forget. 

And here I am, forgetting.  Moping.  Moping because nothing stays the same when the only thing, the only One, that matters has never changed.  Psalm 55:19 promises that God doesn’t change.  That the same God who created the world, saved the Israelites, sent His son, performed miracles, and raised the dead...yep, same God.  Hebrews 13:7 says “Jesus is the same yesterday, today, and forever”.  Have I lost my stability? My consistency?  My normal?  Or have I just lost focus on my Rock and my Salvation?  My Security... My Peace... My Constant. 

Father God, when all around me changes... remind me that You are the Everlasting.  Help me keep my eyes on You...the One who never changes and continues to love me, just like always...

Saturday, December 3, 2011

To Remember...

She was walking briskly down the street.  In a hurry...per usual.  Running late...as was becoming the new norm.  Time.  There was never enough time.  Always too much to do.  Too many things for which to keep track.  And people.  Never enough time to spare for the ones she held closest and never enough to spread adequately over those demanding it.  She shifted her bag to glance at her watch.  She had fifteen minutes at best if she were to get to work in time to have everything arranged before the rest arrived.

She looked up from her mental calculations to see a young woman.  She smiled politely and nodded her head in greeting before continuing in her hasty steps; her shoes making a steady click against the sidewalk squares.  The woman returned the nod but did not continue down the street; instead in her spot she remained although was quickly lost from view...

She paused suddenly. She felt as if the eyes of her arbitrary morning greeting were still watching her.  Considering those eyes, she also felt a sudden sense of recognition.  Her head tilted in a moment of confused pondering.  Slowly and deliberately she turned and began to walk the handful of steps back to where she saw the woman first.  The woman was still there...

She stopped and looked at the woman curiously.  “I’m sorry...” she found the words escaping her mouth almost before she knew what she was saying and long before she could retract them. “but do I know you?”  The woman responded with a similar confused yet pleasant expression but said nothing. 

She seemed not notice her companion’s silence before continuing.  “I just feel as if I know you.  You look ever so familiar.  You remind me of someone I used to know...

“Did we go to school together? High school perhaps?  Yes that seems quite possible.  I seem to remember you as one of the quiet girls? Always with your head in a book? Smart and studious? Yes!  That’s right!  Because everyone was so surprised when you spoke so well and clearly during Speech Class our senior year but no one was surprised when you were Valedictorian!”  Her excitement faded and she caught the woman’s quizzical glance.  “No, that couldn’t be it.  I would remember...

“Wait!  I was wrong!  We met in college!  You never really were in any group per se.  You were your own person, unique.  A little socially awkward perhaps.  But also witty.  Everyone was always laughing at your silly antics and comments!  That was you, right?  When you emerged as a leader, no one saw it was coming.  Didn’t know you had it in you!”  She chuckled but paused. “No, that had to have been someone else.  Someone like that I wouldn’t have to place.  I would remember...”

She shook her head and pursed her lips.  She saw the puzzled but soft look on the woman’s face and her own expression softened.  “Pardon me.  I’m not typically like this.  It’s just, just that, well...your face, those eyes.  I know you from somewhere...”  She paused.  “Do you know...?  Was it a summer of camp?  Did we counsel together perhaps?  There was one girl I seem to recall who would come alive for those weeks of camp.  Were you the one who appeared to have such a zest and a passion?  The one who got to the end of that one week and cried because she had to send her campers home to worlds she couldn’t protect or control?  No. It couldn’t be.  I wanted to be just like her.  I would know her if I saw her.  I would remember...”

A dawn of realization flashed in her eyes and she blushed briefly before leaning in just a little.  “This might be a little personal, but were you, did you, have you ever...” She collected herself before continuing. “What I mean to say is, was there ever a time in your life where it, life that it is, where it was a struggle?  Where something in your life was difficult or challenging?  Perhaps I don’t remember you and just your picture?  Maybe I prayed for you off of a list at church or something of a similar variety?  Did you ever lose someone close? Or were you ever very sick?”  She looked up and saw pain burning in the back of the woman’s eyes.  “You don’t have to answer.  I just seem to be reminded of someone who went through quite a bit.  Everyone was so proud of her strength and her courage and the way that nothing stopped her.  And I always wondered if there was more to her story than what we saw.  And yet, I hoped I could be that superhero in real life.  You know with the ability to do and be everything everyone wanted despite what was going on.  No, it couldn’t be.  Even if it were just a picture, I would remember...”
 
She massaged her brow and shook her head in frustration.  “I know!  I probably look crazy. I am going to be late for work and I suddenly don’t even care.  I still feel as if I know you.  The longer I stand here, the more I am convinced that you’re someone I not only know but should still know.  Should have kept in contact with.  I wish I could remember...

“Obviously it’s been years.  It must have been.  You are quite a bit older than I remember.  But then so am I.  It’s only a matter of time before my hair streaks gray with the crazy life I live!”  She laughed.  “And life must have been pretty crazy or busy since we talked last.  Your eyes are tired and your shoulders sag as you stand.  You almost look, weary?  As if it has been too long since there was anything to refresh your spirit and your soul.  I seem to remember you as having more fire behind your eyes.  But I guess I don’t really remember...” 

Her voice trailed off and her gaze was lost in a personal day dream.  A world all of her own.  When she snapped back to all she could catch was the sad look in the woman’s eyes.  Her own voice cracked and a tear ran down her face. “I wish, I wish I remembered.  I wish I remembered who you were and why you’re so important to me...”  She leaned into her purse to grab a tissue.  “Look at me blubbering like an idiot.  I’m sorry for taking so much of your time.  Time!  Oh my, I am going to be so late for work.  I really must go!”  She paused before rushing off again.  “If you think of it, if you remember, will you look me up?  I’m awfully busy but I would make some time...”  The words seemed to be lost as somewhere a clock began to strike the hour.  She reached out towards the woman’s face and compulsively brushed her smooth cheek.  “Goodbye, old friend.  Someday, someday I’ll remember...” 

She regained her composure and again rushed off.  Her hasty steps made a steady click as she hurried down the sidewalk. 

As the day began and the clock at the center of town put in its last and ninth chime, the street began to come alive.  From where the two women stood a shopkeeper flipped the sign in his door to “OPEN” and exited with a cloth in his hand.  He walked up to the pane of the two-way mirror windows he had installed.  “Silly kids.  Always making faces in the mirror and putting their finger prints on my windows!”  And with a steady motion he began to wipe away the latest streak.  Almost at eye level.  And almost as if someone had run her hand gently down the side of his face...