The moving truck was loaded, and it was time to go. Jim and I stood in the middle of the empty living room one last time. We prayed and thanked God for the house He had given us — our first home and the one to which we had brought home our firstborn. We thanked Him for our time in Texas and for the church we were so sad to leave. We thanked Him for pointing us to Tennessee and for showing us our next steps. We did not know exactly what the future held, but we trusted Him with it. With fear and excitement, we uttered words of gratitude and hope.
I remember that day because it marked a significant change in our lives. Moving was a change that we chose, but it was still hard. Our posture was one of gratitude and faith, even through tears. But life is full of changes we don’t get to pick, as well. What is our posture in those situations?
I am keenly aware that things are always changing. God is the only one that doesn’t change, and He is in the business of transformation. Scripture doesn’t say that one day He will change everything at once. He is currently changing things, making all things new (Rev. 21:15). So, as His follower, change shouldn’t surprise me; yet it does, and often I am not thrilled about it. Sometimes I defiantly shake my fist at Him, and sometimes I put on a blindfold, pretending I don’t see what is happening. But life change happens when I assume a different posture.
A few years ago, on a cold January night, I saw what a change in posture could do in my life. Over the course of the previous two months, our former church had lost their pastor, their entire staff, and their building. Our family had painfully left that church a few years earlier, and the Lord was still in the process of healing my broken heart. As the current members of that church tried to figure out what to do with all of the church’s belongings before moving into a rented space in another building, a friend called me and asked if I would like to consider taking some items from their kids’ space to use here at FBC. I wrestled with the decision but ultimately decided to save a few items from being relegated to the dump. I drove to the church, determined to simply load the items outside the building and drive home. But as I arrived, I sensed the Spirit nudging me to go inside. I knocked on the door to be let in, and my friend, who knew how difficult this whole situation was for me, was stunned that I would want to enter and answered the door with the words, “Are you sure?” I wasn’t, but God was.
We walked slowly through the building, a place I hadn’t been inside for years. It was late at night, and we were the only people there. In each doorway, I paused. I looked at the stripes I had painted on the wall in the toddler room, huge piles of toys and furniture I had bought and assembled myself, and even my own children’s nursery furniture that we had donated to the church. Everywhere I looked, there were memories and moments and stories that I knew intimately. As I looked at the dismantled building and the piles of items waiting to be donated or discarded, I felt overwhelming grief and loss. For reasons only God can explain, I got down on my knees. With my friend beside me, I closed my eyes and pressed my hands onto the familiar floor. And then, with tears pouring off my face, unexpected words poured out, as well. Instead of expressing my hurt or my anger or my sadness, I thanked God for all He had done in that building. I thanked Him for the people who came to know and trust Him there. I thanked Him for the children who had begun faith journeys in those rooms and for the volunteers and staff who had worked there. I thanked Him for what He had done with me there and in me since I had left.
Heart change happened when I changed my posture. Of course, I’m ultimately referring to figurative, spiritual posture, but I also mean my literal posture. I remember that I started my prayer with my hands pressed to the floor, but as the prayer went on, I turned them up and open, fully surrendered.
That night was significant in my story. It represented a big part of my healing journey and closure that I didn’t know God would ever offer.
“Behold, I am doing a new thing...” He whispered. (Isaiah 43:19)
Sometimes that new thing is welcome, and sometimes it is not. But He does all things for our good and His glory, and when we surrender our plans to His, when we trust Him and worship Him in the hard places, He changes more than our circumstances; He changes us.
Is there a change God is preparing you for or walking you into where you need to change your heart? Consider starting by changing your posture. I encourage you to get on your knees, turn your hands up in surrender, and worship the One who is with you in all things. He is faithful and unchanging, even while He is making all things new.