I thought through my mourning experience the other day, the sadness that took over – well, that I grabbed and pulled around me like a couch blanket on a rainy day – and I challenged myself to think about fear.
Was I crying because I was afraid of the changes coming down the pipeline?
Or was it because I was comfortable with circumstances as they were, and sad to realize that the season is already turning.
The leaves of my life experiences are starting to turn golden around the edges. Still shiny now, but what looms ahead is the dying, dull-brown.
I’m not afraid of change. I trust that no matter what, God holds me safe in his palm. Now…whether I happen to be comfortable or not with the positioning – that’s a different proposition.
Change brings discomfort in the unknown. I try to focus on the adventure in the transition, but there’s sadness too. And I would be lying to myself if I didn’t acknowledge it. And damaging myself if I held onto it (which I’ve done, and don’t recommend).
No matter how long I’ve had the opportunity to enjoy it, I’m guilty of mourning the passing of a season.
And so, I acknowledge my sadness. I am sad. And that’s okay.