Just a few days ago, MaryAnn and I celebrated our 30th wedding anniversary. Beyond the routine expressions of amazement (Wow, that's great!), wonder (How did you do it?), congratulations (Way to go, guys!), and a few other typical phrases we heard from friends and loved ones, we feel very fortunate to have made it to this benchmark. Especially since so many things have changed in the past three decades - not least of which are the very notions of family, marriage, whether it is right to stick it out, etc.
This became all the more clear as we recently attended Sam and Rachel's wedding. What a day - filled with joy, anticipation, a bit of nervousness, loads of friends and family, and many emotions. They are just beginning, having made a strong commitment to one another and to their family.
Still, there are no guarantees. One of my good friends - who was married the same year as we were - posted some wedding photos just yesterday. It was great to see the photos, even if a bit embarassing at how we looked back then. But knowing that their couple was no longer together was a sober reminder that some marriages don't last. We reflect on that as we are at the stage of seeing our own children date and get married.
What is the key? There probably isn't just one thing - and as already said, nothing is guaranteed. But we know we would never have made it to this point without a few things: God's help, a strong commitment at the beginning, a decision to never talk about divorce, and an effort to never go to bed angry. That's what has helped us . . .
The past few months have featured work with many new structures - a new organisational structure at Encompass, church constitutions and leadership structures for Shirley and Frankley Grace, network re-organisation for Charis partners in Europe, and a physical garage structure I've been building (see Photo page). These projects share a lot of common elements.
For instance, they all seem rather daunting at the outset - and at various junctures along the way. I had no idea how to do most of the things necessary to build the garage, but I learned one thing at a time from "Ron the project manager." I come away from that experience with a whole new skill set.
But like the garage, if I just focus on the next step in the process - rather than looking at the whole - I can gather the necessary tools and materials to take one step forward.
Time pressure is the one element that can confuse any big project. When I felt like I had to get the roof on the garage - to prevent any water damage - then I was tempted to take "shortcuts" which could risk the solidity of the whole structure. The same applies in developing a constitution or a functioning network. Some parts of the project just take more time, and the wait is worth it.
The sense of satisfaction when the project is finished or when others have been empowered to go further is a great sense of reward. As I write and face the big change at Encompass, I am trying to remember that aspect: when we get through all the transitions to a place where the new structure is in place, there will be a sense of accomplishment. That end goal keeps me going.
Building is a good thing, something we were made to do. A very wise man said once, "Be careful how you build, with quality materials that will last." That is the kind of building I want to do.
Some years ago, my mother-in-law recommended the book Future Shock by Alvin Toffler. Written in 1970, he was already trying to diagnose what he was seeing in people: a struggle to keep up with changes coming faster and faster. I found the book quite helpful for what I was living in the mid 80's - never dreaming where we would be in 2014.
Now, change is about the only constant we can count on (besides death and taxes). How ironic! And yet, many in my circles struggle with the idea of change. Why is it so difficult, So de-stabilising? With all the change we have lived, you might think we would get used to it. But to some extent, the opposite seems to be the case.
Of course, some changes are difficult to digest. But I think I'm wired to face certain changes, to adapt to what is happening around us. It doesn't trouble me. I find myself, instead, trying to help those around me work through the implications of a change. Strange and somewhat uncomfortable - but part of what I'm think I am made to do.
Right now, the organisation I work for is going through a pretty significant change. I seem to be spending a good bit of time trying to help individuals think through and anticipate the implications and the effects, some of which will be difficult. Hopefully, I can be of some use. If not, I can always wait for things to change . . .
Life has been SO full lately - and most of it has been good, draining but good. We realised the other day that over the past 14 months, we have lived MANY big transitions - a wedding, a move, a daughter coming back home, and lots of little things added here and there. No wonder we feel tired on a lot of levels. I am realising that I need to find ways to fill my "coping tank" back up, not an easy thing when the timetable is over-full and I'm wearing several different hats.
All the same, I have little that gives me a right to complain. Compared to the situation in the Central African Republic, which we are following regularly, we have very little physical discomfort. We have plenty to eat and drink, to wear, to do, and lack for nothing. That pushes me to thankfulness, in the midst of all the busy-ness.
From time to time, I wonder how I would react if I lost it all to civil war or to a flood, which many people in other parts England are living through. Would I rebel at the hand I was dealt? What would I miss most? How about you? Do the "creature comforts" we have possess us, or do we possess them? Perhaps something to reflect on . . .