A note before I write about what I wanted to say: every time I go home to my parents’ house, one of the first things I do is doctor all my mom’s plants back into the land of the living.  It is amazing to me how in such a short amount of time (four months) she can nearly kill all of them.  By the end of the week I’m here, they should be back on track, but goodness knows that won’t last.

Now… change.  The older I get, the more it is obvious to me that I don’t like change, neither good nor bad.  I think this is something I’ve written about before, but it constantly surprises me how resistant I am to change.  It’s like I need to have the idea presented, then I need to be allowed to ruminate on it, then I can accept it.  But to simply be presented with a change and expected to immediately accept it?  Never.

Decisions go along with change.  Making a decision feels like making a change, so it follows the same line of reasoning, frequently.

It is not as if I cannot change or make new decisions that change previous plans: it is that I need to have it as an idea for awhile first.  I need to have the chance to consider it first.  Then I am more than willing to try something new or to change directions.  This is why God and I so often wrestle with new things in my life.  He presents something and I ignore it, then He brings it up again and again until I have dealt with it.  But He’s a patient God.

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