Ouch

A few days ago I tried to carry a TV stand into my house. I dropped it on my foot.

I am proud of the independence I've gained by living and moving alone. It is good and right of me to celebrate my independence. But I have not actually moved alone. Behind every step in the moving process was someone assisting me: financially, emotionally, physically...

I called my mom, sister, and best friend everyday. Families in the church helped run my yard sale. My new employer found me temporary housing. A coworker transported my bed to my apartment. My family gave me money to help with the move.

I feel grateful but, at times, guilty. Whether it comes from the criticism I see given to those who struggle to take care of themselves or from my own desire to prove myself worthy and capable-- or both-- I experience guilt.

A few days ago I tried to carry a TV stand into my house. I thought about how much help I had in every step of the moving process. I thought what if I didn't have their help? What if one day I don't have anyone's help? and then I tried to pick it up by myself.

It fell onto my foot.

A man nearby was walking his dog with his kid. He saw me and offered to help. I was in too much pain to be stubborn. With his help, the TV stand is now in my apartment.

So I owe the success of my move to my family, friends, community, new-co workers, and now to a stranger.

No matter how stable I become financially, emotionally, or physically-- I'll probably encounter a "TV stand" that I cannot lift on my own. That's true about all of us- family or not.

This season of change is a reminder of what has always been true. We need each other.

Change

"The LORD'S lovingkindnesses indeed never cease, For His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness." Lamentations 3:22-23

I have this great friend that once told me that he doesn't miss people. This was really surprising, because he had been away from his home for over two years.

I responded with something like, "What?! Not even your parents? Are you not close to them?" He then explained to me that missing them had nothing to do with how much he cared about them, he's just usually distracted and not thinking about them.

I have a very difficult time handling separation from my friends, so when he told me this I assumed him to be a super-human that experienced life differently. After chewing on his words for a bit, I realized he just happened to me more self aware than me.

My idea of love came with the implication that separation from friends meant missing them. I thought if I didn't miss a person, I didn't love them very much. I thought if I was completely content without them, I didn't love them very much. I thought that if enough time passed without me missing them, that would mean they aren't as special to me.

So I'm currently living in Lewis Hall with a whole lot of new people, while all of the people I once saw and hung out with everyday are living in apartments and off campus. I've been missing people and crying--but the real reason isn't because I just love them so much that I can't live without them, it's because I'm trying to hold onto the gifts God gave me before out of a fear that what He's giving me now won't be as great.

I do wish that I could keep all my friends in my life forever, and it is sad that they are gone-- but their absence in my life now does not make their presence in my past any less beautiful. I will always love them. If I try to love by holding on too tight, then I'll miss out on the love I have for these new people.

And there is one consistency in my life. Change keeps me aware of my need for God-for that reason alone I consider it beautiful.

"Truly I say to you, this generation will not pass away until all these things take place. Heaven and earth will pass away, but My words will not pass away." Matthew 24:34-35