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“Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end”—Semisonic
This is my third time reposting this post. The first was three years ago, on the eve of driving my car-load-sized-life from Atlanta to Los Angeles to begin graduate school. The second was two years ago, the day I left Uganda. And the third is now, seeped in the early pages of a new chapter. Transitions have been integral to my life, and I’m starting to think they’re integral to life, period. Whether graduating from college, working through a break-up, or changing jobs, something of a healthy existence seems to imply that something of our stories is always in transition. It’s the way we’re wired, and certainly of the most meaningful ways we grow.  The bad news, or maybe just harder news, is that transitions are uncomfortable. They involve risk and waiting, blind wonder and hope. And they crave familiarity, asking for tangible markers as to where the ground is. No transition, it seems, is without loss and longing for what is familiar. Thus, I leave you with the following.
It’s the familiar that grips me today; it’s the familiar that makes me feel at home.
What is familiar to me is comforting. It’s comfortable and conforms my humanity to a state of being. Whether it’s being with those whom I know, or being with that which knows me, familiarity holds me in peace—holds my sanity in place. But if such is the case, what lies in the unfamiliar? What stirs in the uncomfortable and unconformed place staring at my headlights? This moment breeds a new Destiny of sorts, Manifest by one’s passing, another’s coming and the present. I leave the familiar, leaning on but natural laws of the unfamiliar. And from experience, I know time will breed a new familiarity, different in flavor than before, but familiar, nonetheless. Might such dictations rest in the spiritual realm, too? And if so, what aspects are unfamiliar to me today? What spaces of Being have lacked my explore, for lest I humanize a being unchanged, I must trust a path uncharted. But what then, will hold me in lasting peace? What then, will remain familiar? Maybe it is He? Maybe it is One who transcends the road and transforms the comfort? Maybe it is He who is my Familiar—here, in the “familiar” and there, in the “unfamiliar.” It’s the Familiar that grips me today; it’s the Familiar that makes me feel at home. |
Comments
Abbie,
Just had to write and say how much this encouraged me! I am definitely in one of those transition periods right now - actually, this whole summer has been transformational! In my case, I am finally letting the Lord tear down walls that I have hidden behind for years. And the thought of stepping into this unfamiliar territory, putting myself out there and feeling kind of exposed in a way, is scary for me. But through all of this, I'm trying to remember that I have a constant companion, security, and lover in Christ. For some reason, I've always been predisposed to letting fears hold me back, and in the past, that has caused most transitions to be less than positive experiences! But now, instead of continuing to get stuck in lies, I'm gripping onto the Truth with everything I have :)
Thanks for all of the thoughts and words you share!
love in Christ.
Thanks for sharing this, Valerie. I know so many of us can relate. May the gentleness of Jesus refresh you tonight.
Heraclitus said famously: "you can't put your foot into the same river twice".
All the biggest transitions in my life have always been made up of a million tiny little transitions known as moments. The more successful I become at tending to the little transitions, (God's will for me), the better I understand the big transitions (God's plan for me).
The less I stay out of the outcomes business, the smaller and less threatening the transition appears to be.