I like change.
For some of you, just from reading that little sentence the stress is already creeping into your shoulders and neck, causing you to tense up. I’m sorry. I realize not everyone is like me. I would argue, however, that nearly all of us like change on some occasions. Don’t we?
Take this for example: I’ve never heard anyone say “Gah!! I suppose Autumn will always rob us of the sweltering 100-degree days and sticky 100-percent humidity.” So, maybe there is at least “some” change that we all like, right?
The coming of the new year always gives birth to discussions of change. Resolutions abound! Plans are made. First steps are taken. Second steps are attempted. Third steps are delayed. And then many of our resolutions drift off into the same blackhole that holds the missing match of that one sock left in the drawer, never to be seen again. We wanted change, but could’t make it happen.
We laugh because it’s true. It’s true because we’re insane. If insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results, then for most of us, setting resolutions at the onset of a new year is definitive proof we’re insane.
You may have already set and started some resolutions, and that’s great, but allow me to tempt you to gamble on a resolution. (I’m the worship guy, so gambling is ok.) Try this out and see what happens: Taste and see that the Lord is good. (Psalm 34:8a)
Your job is to taste.
My kids are picky eaters. Maybe that is their parent’s fault. When we try and get them to eat something new, there’s always a bit of wrestling included. Why? Because they don’t like change. At the Craig house, the rule is they have to try at least one bite. That’s what I’m asking you to gamble on. When you sit down at the dinner table of life each morning, you must take one bite.
Here’s what you can do — after you’re up in the morning, pray something like this:
“Father, I woke up this morning in a world in which I can control so very little. For the most part I’m not even very good at being in charge of the things I can control. But I’m glad you’re with me. I’m glad I don’t have to do this alone. Thank you for being here. Help me to take refuge in that for the next 1400 or so minutes. Help me to stay at your table. I want to taste and see that you are good today.”
This is a first step in abiding. (Think John 15 here.) To abide is to remain, to stay. You can control whether or not you abide. So stay at the table! I suspect if you’ll just sit down and take a bite, you might found out that you like it. You might even want more. And you can have it…all you want.
Grace to you,