Our new school director stood bravely in front of a room of teachers and staff at our international school. It was August, and each of us had gone through the roller coaster of change. Many of our dearest friends were now across the Atlantic. The people who had been like family, the people we traveled with, celebrated holidays with, and worked side by side with each day were now an ocean away, still sleeping while we downed our second cup of coffee for the day.
Including our seasoned and trusted director.
She surveyed our faces... the new and the old. She must have noticed that our usual "seating chart" was rearranged to accommodate for those who were no longer with us, and the newcomers who filled in.
She sighed a bit uncertainly, then squared her shoulders back, and began a message of hope. She spoke of continuity and change. She assured us that even though change had come, we could expect that our school would cling to the same guiding principles as when it was established.
Continuity and Change.
Neither is good without the other. Continuity for the sake of continuity leads to an unbending staleness, eventually leading to irrelevance.
Change without continuity leads to chaos, uncertainty, and because of its lack of connection, irrelevance.
I was eight months into my year of Renew, before I realized how much those two words have defined this year.
Re(continuity) new(change).
My year was layered with change.
Marriage
Moving out from my grandma's house after two years of living together
Remodeling an apartment
One of my best friends moving to Romania
Becoming an aunt
A new school director and new teachers
One of my best friends moving back to the States
Starting my translation ministry at church
And yet, the layers of change were laid on top of a foundation of continuity.
Same family
Same country
Same job
Same role in my job
More importantly:
Same faith
Same Scriptures
Same God
And so, in the midst of the changes, my feet stood firm.
My heart, however, underwent some reconstruction.
Remodeling(renewing) our apartment was an exciting yet excruciatingly frustrating process, yet it taught me so much.
1. Renewal doesn't happen within the confines of deadlines.
We had our timing all worked out. We knew exactly when we needed to have everything ready. But we didn't meet our deadline.
I think about my yearly resolutions. My list of things I'd love to be better about... and yet at the end of each year when it comes time to give account, I find that I haven't met the deadline. Sure, I may be farther along than when I set out, but I have yet to achieve my goal of memorizing all of Psalm 119 (got to verse 112!), plan and make healthy meals for each day (does twice a week count?), to exercise (I planked a total of 170-some minutes this year. Don't ask about cardio). The renewal process is slower than you'd hope. But it happens bit by bit.
2. Things may appear to be fine, but you don't really know until you've stripped away everything else. True renewal has to dig deep.
We had everything almost ready. The kitchen was completed, our appliances were working. We were moved in. But there was a suspicious vibrating/buzzing coming from the side of our stove. Upon further inspection, we discovered that none of our kitchen outlets were grounded. After our walls were freshly painted, we had to have an electrician come and rewire and ground a bunch of our wires.
I'm pretty good at acting holy. I'm pretty good at acting sanctified. But occasionally there's a suspicious nastiness in my tone of voice, an unexplained outburst of rage, a negative attitude and critical spirit that reveals a tangle of unsurrendered, unconfessed sin. Renewal means confronting these and dealing with them as they come.
3. It's ongoing. There's always more to do, and it requires constant upkeep. But that shouldn't keep me from moving forward.
After just six months of living in our new apartment, there are countless things that need to be fixed. Water damage from that time our boiler decided to spout water all over our newly finished apartment.
Water damage from that time our windows failed to keep out the rain from the sideways rainstorm.
Cracks along our bedroom wall
Nicked edges needing some new paint from when we hauled large furniture through small openings
Cracked grout between our beautiful new tiles
I often walk through the apartment stressing about all the things that need to be fixed, or that are no longer perfect (or never were). Sometimes my distress about water damage or peeling paint keeps me from wanting to do the normal upkeep like cleaning. Instead of focusing on progress, I begin focusing on perfection, and that becomes crippling. But if I waited until everything was perfect, we never would have moved in. And that's just being a poor steward of the incredible gift and blessing of this home.
If I wait until I feel like I have actually accomplished all of my resolutions before I invest in others, I am squandering my resources, my opportunities, and my relationships.
A quick teaser for 2019: I'm choosing to INVEST.
