Change Is Hard

"Change is hard. I should know."
—She and Him

This is a season of change and transition for Ashley and me.

First, we found out our church was disbanding. After four years of living in close community and sharing our lives with that small group, we're now looking forward to the process of finding a new fellowhsip.

Nonetheless, we recognize that this is a new season, and we're learning to be okay with the discomfort of that change.

Then, after a conversation with my boss Seth, he and I both decided that it was time for my role at AIM to change.

Little did I know that less than a month later, we'd make an announcement to my time, find a replacement, and move me on to a new set of responsibilities. (The latter two changes just happened today, so I'm still processing.)

After doing some prayer and fasting, we also discerned that God was calling us to commit to another season of living in Nashville. (At different times, we've sought the Lord for direction on where we should live and if it's time to move somewhere new.)

Most likely, this will be the year that we buy a house.

Transition is the word of the season. Several months ago, I sensed that change was coming. I didn't quite know what that meant, but I communicated it to Ashley, and we prepared.

Here's what I'm learning about change: Life is all change. There is no such thing as stability or constancy. It's an illusion. We can never stand still, stay young, or keep ourselves protected from the innate risk of transition.

I know that this is true, because I'm not the only one who deals with the discomfort of change (see a recent blog post by a coworker here).

Life happens in cycles and seasons, and our response to change needs to be organic, which is to say that we need to act like living beings, not machines. We need to grow, adapt, and move.

And that's why change can be good. Necessary, even.

Change causes us to grow — to become newer and better versions of ourselves. But it's also hard, because it forces us to move beyond our comfort zones.

I've seen people react to change in one of two ways: to deny it or embrace it. If you're one who does the former, know this: denying change doesn't prevent it from happening and is often more painful than the discomfort of change.

Why not embrace change? Why not meet it head-on?

Because there really is no standing still.

How do you respond to change?

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