Change is Inevitable: 2020’s Hit Us Like a Freight Train

I am not a fan of change. I never have been. I don’t want people to leave, dynamics to change, kids (or adults) to age, none of it. As a high school teacher, I grieve the loss of my students at the end of every semester and rejoice at the few I get to keep. But as this truly unexplainable school year comes to a close, I am at a loss as to how to cope with the loss of my students when I can’t even say goodbye except through a post on Google Classroom. Oh, I could make a video or write a poem, but honestly, my emotions are too raw, too uncomfortable to share in poetry. I don’t want to embarrass them, and I hate seeing myself on video. Plus, I’m not sure how important it is for them to see me cry, which is inevitable if I attempt that type of closure. So, I will end the school year with a lame post about how sad I am that I didn’t get to spend these last 8-10 weeks with them; I will tell them I’m sorry for any suffering they’ve endured during this quarantine and ask them to come and see me next year. And I will be left feeling heart-broken, incomplete.

Even yesterday, my son recorded some songs for a “virtual” violin recital. He took a shower and dressed up, as instructed. And he was excited, like he usually is for his recital, but it only took minutes for the excitement to wear off. Sure, there was the perk that he could play the song several times in order to get it right, but that energy of playing for an audience was not there. There is just something about gathering together with others for church, recitals, the last day of school, graduation. We are social people, so when we are physically alone, it is hard to duplicate the feeling of “togetherness”. People are trying. Drive up church services, zoom meetings, . . . but the truth is that things have changed, and some things have changed forever. My state has very few cases of COVID-19 right now, but people are still wearing masks and gloves, steering clear of others in stores (and even outside), even refusing to see their own family members. Call it what you will, but it isn’t just change, it is rejection. And it hurts. My children are afraid to ask their friends to hang out, knowing some will not or cannot meet. And just because there is an explanation for these actions does not make the feeling of rejection any less.

When this COVID-19 quarantine began, I kept telling my students that this will not last forever. There are even signs in yards saying, “This too will pass”. While this is true, this feeling of general fear, justified or not, is here to stay, for a while anyway. Things have changed, changed more than I want to admit. When will it end? I have no idea. Some of these changes may become permanent, and I, for one, don’t like it.

Recently, my son read a book called Good Omens by Neil Gaiman. It is about an angel and demon who work together to prevent Armageddon from happening. They both get into trouble with their respective “bosses” for tampering with a prophesy, something that has to happen. I watched some of the Amazon series based on the book this week, and I felt very convicted. Just like my best friend used to tell me, “Change is good, it lets you know you’re alive”, the Bible is full of change, uncomfortable change, change God has used and will use to carry out his purposes, even Armageddon. The flood, Joseph and Daniel’s captivity, the Israelite’s slavery and desert wanderings, Job’s almost unbearable suffering, and, yes, the crucifixion itself. All of these uncomfortable changes were a necessary part of God’s perfect plan to bring about his kingdom. Without them, our salvation, our only hope, would not exist. Just as the angel and demon in this book want to save the world, we want to save what we have because we fear change, plain and simple. Good or bad, we want things to stay the same.

Every year has changes, some we like and some we could live without. This year has brought a deluge of change, and the flood isn’t over yet. These adjustments to our jobs, schedules, relationships,social lives, etc . . . are uncomfortable, even devastating. Despite the discomfort we are feeling, some of us more than others, we can rest assured that God is not only aware (and has allowed) these life-altering events to take place but using them to accomplish his purposes right now. May we rest knowing that the God of the Bible is Lord of all, even in these uncertain times.

As Isaiah 55:9-11 states:

As the heavens are higher than the earth,
    so are my ways higher than your ways
    and my thoughts than your thoughts.

 As the rain and the snow
    come down from heaven,
and do not return to it
    without watering the earth
and making it bud and flourish,
    so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater,

So is my word that goes out from my mouth:
    It will not return to me empty,
but will accomplish what I desire
    and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.