Change is difficult. And weird. It’s not like I haven’t ever gone through a change before. Why am I freaking out so much this time? Is it because a few changes have all hit simultaneously? Is it because I care more about the subject of this period’s change(s) than of all the changes during which I’ve been not a complete basket case? Or is this purely a teaching point?
I cry, but not as often as some women. What’s more, I loathe crying in front of other people. Any other people. What a surprise, when just a few days ago, I found myself just about weeping in front of a crowd of about 100. It was out of control. I was out of control. I’ve felt out of control all week...
God, is the current haywire state of my emotional self an illustration to make me finally get, once and for all, that I am not the one in control here? I’m superficially easygoing, but at deeper levels, I go nuts when things are out of my control – as if most things were ever even under my control anyway. I know my life is not about me and what I want from the people around me. It’s about surrender. It’s about me decreasing, while He increases. Maybe that’s the point of this perfect storm of change. Maybe the tears are a physical manifestation of a major breaking of will. I need to let go.
