Back on Blogger

Hey friends, drifters, and "how did I get to this site?" people!
After a long haitus from my blogsite, I 've decided to get back and get busy. Mind you I haven't been abscent, I was just blogging over at Amazon.com on my books page for a bit and writing for Kingdomrain.net. However, this site feels so much more like home.

As many of you know I'm starting to pack up and move to Lancaster, CA. From the rainforest to the dessert I go. Wow. We are excited and grieving at the same time. But transitions can be good for our faith and our family if we do them right.
So I repost this blog on Transitions as my own gets closer and closer...

A few months ago I was invited to speak at the University of Minnesota, Duluth. Of course, having failed my geography classes miserably in high school, I didn’t realize that visiting Duluth in mid February can be a frightfully chilling experience. Being a window seat kinda guy, my view of my descent to Duluth positioned me right next to the landing wheels of our turbo propped United Express plane. As the snow covered tarmac approached I suddenly felt a bit uneasy. Staring at the tires, I realized that they where noticeably absent of any snow tread or even those cool little spiking things that half of Port Angeles puts on their tires at the first sign of snow.
So I’m thinking, “Traction is important on vehicles trying to stop on the snow. My 4-Runner has great snow tires and still slides sometimes. This plane is a lot heavier and moving a lot faster than my 4-Runner. Geez, where are those Les Schwab guys when I need ‘em?...”
Of course, the freakiest part of landing an airplane is that transition point. You know, that place when you haven’t quite landed, but aren’t really in the air? Or when you are taking off—you can feel the lift, but the plane is still on the ground. I stared at my bald tire friends out the window and realized that, during this transition time, my life was in their hands. I realized that there wasn’t a thing I could do to make that plane land safely. I couldn’t press done in my seat harder to make the plane heavier. I couldn’t flap my arms really, really fast in order to keep it aloft. Nope. All I could do is have faith. Faith in those tires… faith in that plane… and most importantly faith in the pilot. The fact that you are reading this column is evidence enough that I made it through that snowy transition and landed safely.
Still the whole experience got me thinking about transitions in our lives. They seem to be some of the most awkward and nerve-racking experiences we as human have to endure. We like the status quo. We like things predictable and tidy. But life is not that gracious. It demands flexibility and change. Our kids grow up, our parent’s grow old, and our bellies grow wide. We move to different houses, different cities, and even into different lifestyles. Transitions occur in our lives at varying degrees and speeds. So the key to success is not avoiding awkward transitions, but learning how to handle them. Let me offer three things to keep in mind to help you land safely on the other side of change.
Focus: Keep in mind that every transition has a beginning, middle, and an end. Knowing where you are in the process and where you desire to be when it is over can help you make healthy and life giving decisions in the midst of it. This is especially important when transition surprises us. Without focus, the death of a loved one or a unexpected career change can cause us to make poor decisions that actually compound the problem instead of navigating it.
Friends: I see too many people in transition pull away and isolate themselves from others. Likewise the awkwardness of not knowing what to do, causes many of us to avoid those we know who are in transition. My advice, regardless of what side of the coin you are on—walk in the opposite spirit. Where your natural inclination may be to run and hide, or avoid and deny, turn to pursue and love. Friends are gifts from above that add stability and sanity to our lives.
Faith: If I’m flying the plane myself, then the weight of success or failure depends on me. If I’ve entrusted my life to someone who knows it better than I even know myself, then faith dictates that I trust. Jesus said that he was the Master of Life. By that very statement, I believe he means that he knows a lot about life. Not just church or offerings, but life. He knows a lot about marriage and parenting, about careers and callings, about love and loss, and a lot about the present and future. To let him be the master of my life means I get to be his apprentice and learn from him how to live this life—and live it abundantly.
So may your Faith, Friends, and Focus help you land safely through the next transition in your life. And if you happen to be on an airplane sometime in the future and see some guy flapping his arms trying to keep the plane in the air, just come remind me to listen to my own advice and trust the pilot.