Transition

Transition.

 

It’s a messy concept.

 

Change. Endings. Beginnings. Grief. Celebration. Tears. Joy. Fast. Slow. Be. Move.

 

Transition seems to contradict itself. The moment I can put a name on what is going on in my head, heart, body, and spirit, I become conflicted because what I just put a name to no longer stands due to constant change. The unpredictability of transition. I can prepare myself for it, but will never fully have it figured out unless I control, numb, “protect”. Which, in all honesty I have done, and let me tell you how well that went. Not well. It may make me feel “comfortable”. But why would I trade authentically being for comfort? Why would I want to change the process, the opportunity to grow and trust? The answer is uncertainty. Uncertainty is a concept that intrigues my curiosity. It can bring me so much life, but more often than not it terrifies me. What if? What happens when? If this happens… Will you still be there? Am I making the right choice? Questions that I ask from wounds I tried to protect for so long.

 

Weird, right?  

 

Why protect wounds, the very source of the thing that causes pain?

Because healing hurts.

It takes work. But I think the scariest thing about healing is it takes trust.

Trust, a lot of the times seems to go against everything that feels natural.

Exposed. Raw. Vulnerable. Messy. Uncontrolable.

 

I am not writing this because of some inspirational book I read, or some great teaching. I am writing this because this is my reality.

Transition.

 

This last month I have been in constant transition.

 

And every time I am asked how I am I say “I’m okay.”

 

It’s not to get attention, or negate my feelings/thoughts. It’s the most authentic and honest answer I can give, because transition is unpredictable. It’s like a rollercoaster. One second I am on top of the world and the next I am plummeting my way back down to earth hoping that hotdog I ate earlier doesn’t make another appearance.

 

What’s the point of all this, Sara?

 

I think the point is in these moments we absolutely need to trust.

 

Let’s go back to the roller coaster, shall we?

No matter how much I am thrown every which way, I know that the lap bar will keep me safe. Panic might set in, but I know I can trust the lap bar. It’s what lets me experience the thrill of the ride without seriously being injured or thrown from the ride. The feelings are still real, but the reality is that I am safe.

So, if I can trust a dinky padded lap bar to keep my life safe, how much more so can I trust the Lord to keep me safe during transition? In this metaphorical roller coaster of transition, He is my lap bar. He keeps me safe, but I need to trust Him. I need to get on the ride and let the process happen, trusting the Father no matter what part of the ride I am at.

 

Trust, especially in transition, is something I wish I could say I have no problem with, but if that were the case where would my faith be? Faith is trusting in something. Choosing to get into the roller coaster no matter what it will bring me, because I know He is keeping me safe.