Not the same

It’s all happening.

I love that line. I’ve always wanted to open a blog post with that. I actually stole it from one of my favorite movies, Almost Famous.

They used it as a greeting, with excited anticipation. All the pieces were coming together. Or not. But the time they had been waiting for had arrived.

The movie characters were talking about concert tours. I’m talking about this season of life.

This week has been a whirlwind of preparation. School starts Monday. So it’s been all uniforms, parking passes, student IDs, locker assignments, Meet the Teacher, school supplies, new backpacks, etc.

We’ve seen all the first-day pictures of kids whose schools started THIS week on our Facebook feed.

Yes, indeed. It is, in fact, all happening.

And so be it, you know? Summer is overrated. As someone who lives with anxiety, I’m looking forward to getting back into a routine. At this point, what that will look like is still unknown. Starting Monday, we’ll all be learning a new rhythm.

Call me a nerd, but I can’t wait.

I know I’ve written about the concept of seasons before and the earth continues to spin. And object in motion stays in motion, and all that.

But if I’m honest, I’m not looking forward to the NEW routine this school year will bring. I’m looking forward to the day that new routine no longer feels new. It’ll feel typical, familiar and comfortable.

It doesn’t sound like it, but this is actually a major point of growth for me. The reason I feel so free to go have adventures is because I know that I can come home to what I know.

God created us with the knowledge of who He is and the desire to know Him more. Of course, we try unsuccessfully to fill this void with just ANYTHING else. I mean, PLEASE don’t make me love and need and have a relationship with the all-knowing, all-powerful, all-loving Creator of the universe. That bag of chips right there will do just fine.

So there’s no reason to beat ourselves up about longing for the unchanging, especially when surrounded by constant upheaval.

But once your identity and security are settled once and for all in Jesus, you can move fearlessly into the unknown.

The reason this is such a big change for me is because I really think I may have invented the phrase, “But it’s not the same” and all its variations. And if I didn’t invent it, I sure perfected it. Like a boss.

‘The same’ felt good and change felt bad. And when something changed, as it inevitably would, I would heave a grieving sigh, maybe shed a few (or a lot of) tears and think, “It’ll never be the same.”

And God is looking at the work He’s doing in my life, heaving a satisfied sigh, breaking into a grin and thinking, “It’ll never be the same.”

Brad and I were watching a movie recently. A friendship had been broken, an accidental betrayal. Two men who had been friends since childhood were grappling with the irreparable damage done by good ole human nature.

They loved each other like brothers and were both devastated by the loss of their decades-old friendship. The offender appealed to his former buddy to give him another chance, to make things right between them again. The wounded party looked down and shook his head sadly, “I just don’t see how anything could ever be the same between us.”

I startled Brad and barked at the TV, “Okay, maybe it can’t be ‘the same’! But that doesn’t mean it can’t be SOMEthing!”

(Broken relationships, real or fictional, just kill me. Relationships are everything to me and I don’t let go easily.)

Different doesn’t always mean dead.

This is where I used to get it wrong a lot. If I were dealing with a broken relationship, I thought the only way to keep it was to try to get it back to what it was. I thought there were only two options: What it was or nothing at all. And if it could never be the same, I assumed that meant it was dead.

But I’m starting (emphasis on STARTING) to learn that just because something can never be the same doesn’t mean it’s OVER. It’s still there. It’s just different. And I just have to figure out the new normal for said situation.

There’s still some grieving involved, to be sure.

Kids grow up.
Trust gets broken.
Time creates distance.
Bodies age.
We see things we can’t unsee.
We learn things we can’t unknow.
Hair turns gray.
People die.
People are born.

I mean, it’s all happening. All the time.

And a surefire way to stay miserable, anxious, discontent, unsatisfied and afraid is to attach yourself to the idea that you’ll only be happy with something if never changes.

Good luck with that.

Sailors don’t plop down on the bow of the boat when the wind changes direction and whine that things will never be the same. They spring into action, adjust their sails and

Make. It. Work.

Again, please don’t misunderstand. This isn’t something I’ve mastered. On the contrary, it’s something I’m only beginning to be aware of. But the first step is admitting you have a problem, right? Gotta start somewhere.

I took my youngest to meet her fifth grade teachers yesterday. My youngest kid staring down her last year in elementary school.

I lied in bed next to her last night until she fell asleep. After she had dozed off, I took her hand in mine and examined it. They were nearly the same size.

I looked over in the corner at the chair I used to rock her to sleep in, now covered in teenage-sized clothes, chapter books and her new backpack.

Do I miss the days when she used to easily fit in my arms? Of course. But now she can feed herself (she freakin’ COOKS for herself AND the rest of us). Now we can have conversations so I can know her more and more.

Things have changed between us. It’s different, not dead. AND I don’t have to change diapers anymore.

There’s no going back. It doesn’t work that way. There are only two options: forward and stuck. And even deciding to not move doesn’t mean time stops. Time marches on and you just get left behind. And you miss it. Life, I mean.

Yeah, I need to go ahead and make peace with change. Just because it’s not the same doesn’t mean it’s not SOMEthing. And that’s a good thing.

Because it’s all still happening. And it never stops.