When Life Changes

The only constant is change.  

When you hear that adage, how do you feel? Many people dread change. I always thought I welcomed it, but recently we moved from one part of London to the other—a distance culturally that some people say feels as big as the UK’s North-South divide. I knew the move away from our home of over two decades would feel massive, but I didn’t reckon on the grief being so pervasive. “God,” I question, “are you in this?” Being cut off from my long-time community—church, gym, friends from my kids’ schools—has felt a wrench. Knowing in my head that moving can be one of life’s biggest stressors is one thing; embracing the uncertainty and feeling of displacement in my heart is another.  

In this season of feeling out of sorts, I land again and again on finding myself in God. That is, who I am depends on how He defines me—I’m not Friendless or Lacking-in-Community; I am Deeply Loved. I am God’s Beloved.  

God Sees Us and Loves Us 

The only constant in life is change? Well, yes, I suppose, but I’d like to say the only constant is God and His ever-pervading, never-stopping, overflowing love for us. That love called the world, and us, into being; that love created playful puffins and prancing ponies; that love made us to connect with Him and with each other. That love amazingly takes up residence in those who believe in Him through the Holy Spirit dwelling within.  

When I feel lonely or disconnected in this new place, I seek to notice what I’m feeling. Sometimes I lash out at my family members—although I’m asking God’s Spirit to rein in those impulses. Sometimes I heed the Spirit and stop and pause, exhaling my sadness and grief to the One who cares the most deeply for me. I might place my hand over my heart as a reminder that Christ lives within me (“Christ in you, the hope of glory,” Colossians 1:27) as I inhale deeply of His love. That gentle reset helps me to respond more gently as I acknowledge the lurking feelings of sadness and angst that might have been driving me to a more harmful reaction.  

Being Gentle with Myself 

And I’m having to extend grace to myself. I’ve done some silly things lately, from unwittingly breaking dishes to washing my phone with some bedsheets (no, that didn’t end well) to arriving home from vacation to a fridge reeking of mold (because of British outlets and my attempt to save electricity—I could explain more intricately, but you get the idea). Instead of beating myself up for these mistakes, some quite costly, I stop and wonder at the level of stress I’ve been experiencing over the past couple of months. How has this affected my ability to be present in the present moment? How can I slow down and heed the warnings of the Holy Spirit to help me avoid these thoughtless actions in the future? In short, how can I find what I need in God? 

God—and my husband—haven’t looked at me in disappointment. I seek to extend the same grace to myself, not beating myself up but instead pondering how I’m a human being with limitations. I can’t keep operating at a high level of stress without rest and release; I need God’s love and care as my foundation—an underpinning not made from harsh concrete but of His strong and gentle everlasting arms (see Deuteronomy 33:27) or His protective feathers (see Psalm 91:4). I build more time in my schedule to rest with God, going for a walk with Him and taking in my new surroundings without an agenda, or relaxing with a good book. Unpacking the living/dining room, even though we moved a couple of months ago, can wait.  

A Way to Pray 

How are you, lovely one, facing change? Perhaps your new life situation came about in an unexpected way, such as health concerns for you or someone close to you that you didn’t reckon on; a loss of paid employment or a volunteer position; strife at church that has entailed a fracture in community… Whatever might be behind your feelings, here’s one way to pray that reinforces your identity as God’s beloved. Join the psalmist in releasing your feelings to God and in “educating your emotions,” following him when he asks, “Why, my soul, are you feeling down? Look up and put your hope in God!” (Psalm 42:5, my paraphrase).  

Below is an example of how I’ve prayed through Psalm 42 in my own words. As you read it, I hope you’ll feel invited to pray this psalm in your own words, and as you do, to find rest for your soul in God as He envelops you with His love. 

Lord, I see the deer yearning for the refreshing water,  

and my soul pants for you too.  

My soul cries out with such thirst for you! 

You’re the living God. 

Where can I go to meet with you? 

My tears have been my food  

all the moments of the day and the night.  

People look at me and wonder,  

Where’s your God? 

I remember, God,  

while pouring out my soul to you, 

how I used to go to your house, 

under your mighty protection, 

and I reverberated with joy and praise. 

So why, my soul, are you downcast? 

Why are you so very out of joint? 

Please, soul, put your hope in God, 

for I will yet praise him.  

After all, he’s my Savior and my God.  

But my soul is downcast within me; 

I can’t deny it.  

And so I remember you  

from the lands of old. 

Deep calls to deep 

in the wild roar of your waterfalls; 

I immerse myself in your love 

as your waves and breakers 

sweep over me.  

By day the Lord directs his love 

and at night his song is with me— 

the song of prayer to the God of my life.  

Oh God, my Rock, 

Why have you forgotten me? 

Why must I go about covered in sadness, in grief? 

My bones suffer the agony of death 

and my enemies mock me, 

asking me, “Where is your God?” 

So why, my soul, 

why are you downcast? 

Why are you so disquieted within me? 

All the evidence points to God loving you, 

so put your hope in him.  

For I will yet praise him, 

my Savior and my God. 

—Written by Amy Boucher Pye. Used by permission from the author. Click here to connect with Amy.