The Familiar

I’ve been displaced from my home this winter. We've moved out in order for our apartment to be completely gutted and renovated. I didn't look forward to moving out; I didn't relish the thought of two moves in three months, or sharing space with another family in the interim. However, I know that something much, much better is in store just on the other side of this temporary displacement. When we move back home next week, it will be a much bigger and much brighter space. I am very excited!

Our cat Lilly is much less excited than I am. She was on edge as we packed things in boxes. She twitched her tail whenever she walked into a room and things were missing, or not “where they should be.” When the last piece of furniture was being moved out, she literally laid on top of it and refused to move. I tried to move her and she became limp spaghetti. She was just plain NOT going to give up the last familiar fragment of her crumbling life!!

Have you ever tried to explain to a distressed animal that, just wait, you can’t see it now, but in the end this is going to be SO much better?? You’re going to have more sun-drenched windowsills to bask on. You’re going to have more rooms to race between at top-speed for absolutely no reason at all. Just wait, trust me, this is GOING to work out for the best… I know this FOR SURE… I can even SEE the progress of the renovations and I know it won’t be long…

Lessons about my relationship with God sometimes come from the most peculiar and unexpected places! As I tried to somehow reassure a still-not-thrilled cat, it occurred to me…

How often have I clung to the familiar, the known, the “safe”? How many times have I stubbornly laid down on the last piece of furniture in some area of my life, refusing to surrender what I CAN see for what I CAN’T see? Even when I know God is in control and has a much bigger plan, I sometimes struggle with the urge to grasp onto anything that makes sense and try to keep things in their place.

Over and over, God gently reminds me, “Just wait, you can’t see it now, but in the end this is going to be SO much better. Trust me, I have a plan; I just need you to allow me to work.”

My reading on Ash Wednesday set my focus for this Lenten season. It captures this ongoing battle to let Go, to surrender to the God who loves us infinitely and who knows the bigger picture. It says:

“Today I turn over my will, understanding that I cannot see the whole picture, and that I need to leave room for God to work.” - Dayton

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the LORD. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.” Isaiah 55:8-9

Arlene M.