I don’t know about you but some changes set my nerves on fire. Rattling my cage, so to speak. I’ve never been the laid back type that can roll with the punches. While there are times when change is good I have to admit that most of the time I like the status quo. Knowing what to expect, such as finding the ingredients to a casserole when I walk into a grocery store, is a thing of peace. Or, that when I drive up to the gas pump there will be enough gas for my car. These are small examples but, I have lived in places and times when that was not always the case.
While I’m bemoaning changes, I will admit that I am enjoying some of the technology upgrades that have occurred over the last five years. I can now FaceTime with my grandchildren who live in another state. And, watch church on Periscope when I can’t be there. The fact that I often find answers to questions on my phone’s internet access blows my mind. Please understand that technology and I do not mix well. And my acceptance of these changes, while fully embraced by family and friends, came slowly for me.
Embarrassingly enough, in the past my sense of peace was primarily based on my sensing everything being right when life and the things of life were stable around me. But recently, changes have occurred in my life that have left me asking myself if I should place my peace on an ever changing world. And honestly, what place does God have in my peace if I keep looking to the world?
So what’s my example of having peace when changes happen? To me unwanted change is like the storm the disciples experienced in Mark 4:35-41. They’d crossed the lake probably hundreds of times as fishermen, so storms were not a new experience. But, this one took the cake. How do I know this? Because they were so frightened that they told Jesus they were going to drown.
Changes are like that to me. Maybe it’s something I’ve experienced before but not to the degree I’m presently in. Here’s the shocker in my example, Jesus was already there. He was suffering through the storm with the disciples. Only He really wasn’t suffering was He? No, He was sleeping like a baby. He had peace in the midst of the storm. And when the disciples looked to Him, they received that peace in the form of the winds and waves calming down.
Right now if I focus on the world I find we live in a time when things can change overnight. Isis and various terrorists get a thrill out of shaking things up and bringing chaos into everyday life. And let’s not forget the elections. No matter what side you are on, the representatives of the major parties leave much to be desired. Either one of them can lead this country into dire straits if they’re not careful. With these two subjects alone it’s obvious that change is on the horizon. Only God really knows what lies ahead.
As for me, I too have huge changes coming my way over the next couple of months, including a move to Dallas. Some of these I look forward to and some I never thought I’d experience. Each day brings a slow adjustment to the changes I’m anticipating. Of course, there will be some things happen that I can’t anticipate. But one thing I do know is that Jesus is with me.
It’s through these changes that my focus has shifted. Each day draws me into a greater realization that my peace needs to come from Jesus. He is my example. I can only control certain aspects of the changes I face but I can control my response to all of them. With Jesus I have a peace that is refreshing and encouraging. When I keep my focus on my heavenly duties the worries and over-whelming occurrences in my life take on a different appearance. I’m not perfect and I slip up and allow worry to venture in some times. Then I remember that my God loves me and He knows my needs. When I stay focused on Him, He directs my steps and I accomplish far more than the stresses of the changes would normally have allowed me.
Our God is all-knowing and omnipresent. His goal is to strengthen us and guide us. So, no matter what change happens in the days to come we can lean on Him. He cares for all of us and will direct our paths.
By: Lill Kohler