Resisting Change Is Keeping You From A Bright Future

This is a guest post from Stephanie Gates, a beautiful writer and mother to four kids. Not only is she a dreamer and risk-taker, she has a wealth of wisdom to offer. You’re going to love this story she’s sharing today.

I stood in the kitchen that Sunday morning and stared hopelessly at the stack of breakfast dishes. It was not yet 9:00a.m. and already I felt sad and exhausted. I couldn’t muster the energy to clean the counter, much less get my family ready and out of the door for church.

The past few months had been exhausting. Something had to give.

Photo Credit: Jodie Wilson, Creative Commons

Last March, my husband and I took the risk of a lifetime. We dreamed of raising our four young children in the mountains, and after years of talking and planning, we finally cashed our assets, and moved our family 1400 miles west.

Then, in May, my husband was in a bicycle accident. His body recovered, but the effects of a serious concussion radically changed our lives.

In the beginning, I fought against every single change.

I would go to the grocery store – a task that he had gladly taken over a few years ago – and grumble the entire time. I hated grocery shopping, and it wasn’t supposed to be my job.

When business calls became my responsibility, I would inwardly sigh. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

Every Saturday morning I made the waffles, and as I did, I would reflect on how he used to love to cook breakfast. Every time I completed a task that, in our family, had been his responsibility, inwardly I would scream: I’m not supposed to be doing this!

I wasn’t frustrated or resentful of him. I was thankful he was alive, and healing.

But I was deeply resentful of the unexpected turn my life had taken.

For over a decade, my husband and I had been partners, and friends. Raising a large family is a big job, and we had a rhythm to our family life we both enjoyed. We cooked together, hiked together, put kids to bed together, cleaned the kitchen together.

We were a team. Only now, my teammate was benched. And I was overwhelmed and exhausted.

I went to church that July morning anyway, and I asked an acquaintance to pray for me. Not out of faith, really, but just because I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t tell her why, or what I needed. I wasn’t really sure myself.

But she prayed for me, and then after the service she approached me. “I never do this,” she said timidly. “Please forgive me if I’m overstepping my bounds, but when I was praying I had a very clear thought.”

“The task before you is not your problem. What’s wearing you down is your expectations.”

For days I thought about her insight. I began to see how, more than the changes in my daily life, it was my resistance to those changes that required most of my energy. I was fighting to keep life the way it was “supposed” to be, the way it had always been.

I was frustrated and angry that my life was suddenly, inexplicably, different.

I was fighting because I was afraid. The question pulsing under every resentful sigh was, “What if this is the way it is?” For so long, I’d thrived in the predictable rhythm of my marriage and family life. What if we never found that again?  What if he never fully recovered?

I wanted a future I could predict.

I wanted to know he would eventually be the man I’d known for the past fifteen years, and our marriage would go back to the way it had always been.  I wasn’t exhausted because of my new responsibilities.  I was worn down by my fearful resistance to them.

So, I let go of my fear.

I stopped focusing on how things were “supposed” to be. One thing I knew for certain: life always changes. No matter what happened, it would not always be this way. Even if I the changes in his abilities were permanent, even if our life together looked very different than I could anticipate, it would still continue to grow and move forward.

When I let go of my fear of the future, I immediately had more peace. I could breathe again. I no longer resented my new workload, and I no longer felt overwhelmed.

My husband continues to heal, and our life together continues to unfold. But before I could enjoy a future with him, I had to let go of my fear of the unknown.

_______

Stephanie Gates is a mom to four beautifully rambunctious little kids and wife to a guy who still makes her smile. Last spring she moved to Colorado, where she fell in love with the mountain air and the Anglican church. You can read more from Stephanie on her blog, A Wide Mercy.

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