I love this time of year. There is something about November to New Year’s Eve that is simply magical. Everything about the smell of the air, the smell of the kitchen, and the smell of grandma’s perfume intoxicates my senses and consumes my soul. And oh yeah, I get to celebrate my birthday!
Like I said, I really, really like this time of year.
But, for all of its constants and familiarities, this time of year also brings about change. I’m getting better at accepting it . . . but I still don’t like it.
Change means that things that you have always known to be, things that are comfortable because of their consistency, suddenly become different. As in, they are no longer the same. Big and small, professional or personal, things evolve.
For example, my job.
As of December 1, 2008 (*insert Jaws theme music*) I am under the directional supervision of Curtis Fletcher. This means a number of different things.
For starters, I will no longer be “on the web team.” Tragic. I will be a part of the “donor services team” helping with tactical assignments as needed (I don’t really even know what that means, but it’s what I have been told).
More importantly, I will be working more closely with Curtis as we start to shape “the program” for its launch. Most of my time and energy will be placed here as details get clarified and we are able to move forward.
Now, I know what you’re thinking: “What is this program about? And when is it launching?”
I’m sorry to tell you, but I’m still not at liberty to say. The web team, though, during a highly critical and important meeting, code named it “The Twinkie Project.”
I can’t tell you why we named it that. No really. I have no idea. It has zero relevance.
What I can tell you though is this: Curtis has written a job description specifically detailing my role, responsibilities and the minimum amount of time that I will continue to be needed as a temporary employee for this position.
I have six months, at least. I’m going to be here (securely) for the next six months.
Allow me to clarify why this is such a BIG deal. As you may recall, while I was on the web team, my contract was renewed, based on current necessity, at the end of every month. That is to say, I had no guarantee of employment beyond the 30 days I was given at a time. But God, in His infinite sovereignty and providence, continued to reopen the door every month.
As I was recovering from my intense relief and celebration after receiving the six-month-security-news, it dawned on me: Perhaps the Lord finally got tired of the same ‘ol prayer and decided that if He gave me a six-month stint, I’d shut up.
It worked. Sort of.
Currently, instead of praying for a job, I’m praying for other things; things that perhaps have a heavier eternal weight, things like my heart.
During Thanksgiving (which I spent at home in hot and humid Texas), I had the opportunity to spend some one-on-one time with one of my many precious cousins. Her name is Katrina, and she is a teacher in Austin. I met her long before she ever became a part of the family (by marriage) and she has long been a hero of mine.
She is beautiful. I mean really, really good-looking. But more captivating than her emerald green eyes is her passion and fervency for the Lord. I don’t use those words lightly. I have met few people who, in spending a measly five minutes with them, share just how much they are learning, being challenged, and are asking the Lord to continue to refine and change them.
I don’t know what your experience is with “refinement.” Mine is that, despite the fact that it is necessary and always better on the back-end, you have to be either really stupid or really holy to go asking for it.
But that’s Katrina. Really holy.
As she shared with me the ways in which the Lord has been shaping her and showing her who He is and who He wants her to be, I became convicted. And I really hate that.
“I want to go there in my walk,” I thought to myself. “I want to be stretched to new limits and shown new truths about who I am in Christ.”
The only thing is . . . it could get messy. It will probably be hard. It will undoubtedly be uncomfortable. I will most likely have to confess and accept things about myself that I don’t like, that I don’t want to deal with. I will assuredly have to unpack baggage that I have been toting with me, partially out of habit, partially out of a need for security. And by security, I actually mean insecurity. Just to clarify.
As I wrestled with myself on the flight back to Denver, I decided that, difficult or not, it would be worth it. I’m ready to “lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before . . .” me (Hebrews 12:1b, ESV).
Run with me this Christmas. As we welcome the New Year, welcome the change that the Lord has in store.