My youngest graduated from high school last week, and our family is officially moving to San Diego a week from today. We will be saying goodbye to the neighbors who shared school carpool duties, the home where Ethan learned to walk, and the local park around the corner where we spent countless hours coaching basketball, volleyball, and baseball. There is more than change happening; there is loss.
In his book, The Practice of Adaptive Leadership, Ronald Heifetz said, "What people resist is not change per se, but loss." He humorously points out that winning a big lottery is a major change but almost no one becomes saddened. People typically resist change because they fear losing what is familiar or losing a sense of competence. I marvel at my parents, who left the familiarity of Korea and immigrated to the United States in 1979 with three young children in tow. They willingly left the familiar and embraced life in a new land where they had to learn how to read and write a new language at the age of 40. Change was good for our family; the loss that came with it was immense. People fear loss, not change.
Standing before the Red Sea, the people cried out to Moses, "Was it because there were no graves in Egypt that you brought us to the desert to die?" (Exodus 14:11). Even after witnessing God's mighty deliverance, they repeatedly longed to return to Egypt. If God's purpose was to ensure Israel's comfort and happiness, it was not going well. God often leads His people beyond comfort so they may learn to depend on Him. The aim was never change for change's sake. God wanted Israel to depend on Him always, no matter what changes and unfamiliarity came their way.
We have already experienced change: Families change. Technology changes. Even our bodies remind us that nothing remains the same. Change feels like loss because, in some ways, it is. As a church, we will always experience some form of change. So first, let us start by naming the loss. "Lord, change is a sense of loss, and I am grieving." Then turn that grief over to the Lord, who cares for you and is with you. The words of Psalm 139:5 are, "You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me." The psalmist's assurance is not that everything remains the same. Some losses are real and deserve to be grieved. Yet we never grieve alone. The God who has gone before us is also the God who holds us. Though much may change, His presence remains.
God bless you, friend.
Pastor Jason