Change

This has been on my mind a lot lately. I am the kind of person who resists change. I eat just about the same breakfast every morning, eat at the same restaurants for lunch each day of the week, and can even run the same route over and over, because I like to know what to expect. I think the sameness gives me a level of comfort. Perhaps because even though other things may vary in my life, I can control some parts of it. I like that, and the level of power it gives to me.

This mentality can be a good thing. It gives discipline and dependability, but can also be a crutch, one that needs to be knocked out from underneath me from time to time. There are many crutches I have used in my life that, in the end, harmed me. Jesus came along and replaced himself for my useless crutches, because they were holding me back from becoming closer to him. He is still showing me where I have stashed spare crutches.

When he does this I really panic. I grab my crutch, hold on for dear life, and kick and scream like a small child. But underneath my childish behavior is a seed that resist change, fearing I will be naked without it. If you take away what I have then what will I have?! Nothing. I easily forget he has already replaced what I am desperately trying to hold onto with something better. It's like trying to keep wearing your glasses when you don't need them anymore. You are worse off than before, because you won't let go.

I grew up in a religion where everything was defined, dissected, and spelled out. My life was actually quite stormy, but the belief I had in God seemed to be a steady stream, one that I could follow along without doubt and have 'God's approval'. All I had to do was listen to what the leaders taught, and follow the path they laid out. I did this faithfully, and I found it comfortable. The problem was however, is that the path I had chosen to follow was not the path Jesus was walking. It was one that man had paved. It was full of pits, holes, wolves, and robbers. When my Lord found me on this road, I was beaten and bleeding. He bound up my wounds and took me to him. My entire life shifted, and even as my scars were healing, I was completely consumed with fear. I wanted him more than anything, but he had removed my crutches. I was terrified. He replaced my terror with hope. He is still teaching me, that I no longer need them. I am not beaten and bleeding. He has completely paid for my recovery.

Walking without definitions is like walking with my eyes closed. Walking by faith, not sight. He directs me through faith in his love, nudging me here and there, giving sight of heavenly things, instead of eyes of flesh. The difference is such a change that it can be overwhelming, and it's hard to let go of fear. He says if I follow his voice I can walk in his footsteps and he will lead me. When I try and put the flesh glasses back on, I am blind, and in a worse state than I was before.

I am still learning to trust him, that I am not in fact naked, but beautifully clothed. I can be a slow learner. It's funny, when the crutch is gone, I end up wondering why I wanted it in the first place.