When faced with a major transition in life, how do you decide which way to go?
Sometimes, it’s difficult to know which path to follow in life. There are those who believe that God has a perfect plan for us to follow. Our job is to discern God’s will for our lives. I don’t believe that. Instead, I believe we have choices to make in life. No matter the choices we make, God will continue to be faithful to us and provide strength along our path. These days, I’m reminding myself of this.
I’m facing a decision I didn’t expect. While I’ve made decisions like this one before, I was younger then. As I’m to the point in life when I’m counting down the years to retirement, I am more cautious about major life decisions. The caution is two-fold. First, I have less time left in my life to work out poorly made decisions. Second, no matter what decisions I make, I find that it takes me longer to recover from most every change in life. For example, I used to fly back and forth across the country and change time zones without much discomfort. But now, it takes me days to reacclimate from something as simple as changing time zones.
It seems that my choices today fit into two basic categories: the safe and relatively predictable or the somewhat unknown new adventure. When I became aware that this is how I could understand my choices for the future, I reflected on the choices I made in the past. I’ve had a tendency to go for the new adventure.
Early in 1992, I moved from Pittsburgh and the region in which I grew up after completing a doctorate. At the encouragement of a colleague, I moved to South Florida where I lived for nearly six years. When I moved, my colleague was the only person I knew there. He grew to be a close friend. I had several great adventures in South Florida and made some good friends. But I was young and somewhat naive. I left South Florida in a sorry state: burnt-out, frustrated, and feeling at perhaps the lowest point in my life.
In late 1997, I made a new home in Tucson. I didn’t know anyone there. I had been asked to consider pastoring a church in Tucson. I visited and realized pretty quickly that it was not a good fit. But I found that I could pray in the desert and had a deep sense of being “at-home” there. Without a job or a plan, I moved. I created a new life there, became the chair of a graduate program, was part-time pastor of a church, and met my partner. Tucson was very good for me. While many people thought it was a risky move for me — and it was — it turned out to be the right choice.
What I know from these experiences is that taking major risks can sometimes work very well and sometimes prove to be very difficult. But no matter the outcome, these choices were important steps along the path of my life journey. I am thankful for both the challenging times and the amazingly good times. Through all of it, I’ve also known that the Divine Mystery we commonly call “God” journeyed with me. No matter how difficult the times were, I knew that presence within and around me.
As I look at the next set of decisions, I have hope for the future even if I’m not as courageous as I was in my youth. I am more cautious, but I hope that’s a reflection of wisdom. I also trust the wisdom shared by the great English mystic, Julian of Norwich: “All shall be well. All shall be well. In all matter of things, all shall be well.”
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In life’s transitions, what helps you to hold onto hope for the future?
