Preachin' to Transition

You can preach to the choir, preach to the converted, preach to the wall... Or you can preach to yourself. And usually it's preaching to yourself that reaps the greatest learning. It's been happening for me since November. For my most difficult grad. school class to date, I was responsible for leading psychoeducational group sessions (don't worry about it) on the topic of change. We spent a great deal of time as a group discussing a concept relatively new in its definition yet familiar in its manifestation in our lives: transition shock.

By definition, transition shock is "a state of loss and disorientation predicated by a change in one's familiar environment which requires adjustment." While we experience transitional change all the time, it is rarely spoken of, and its symptoms are generally unacknowledged. But oh, are these symptoms many: feelings of helplessness and withdrawal, irritability, desire for home and old friends, physiological stress reactions, and boredom, to name a few. Because of the constant change that accompanies our lives, transition shock occurs more often than we are aware of, and there is a name behind its signs.

After returning to Honduras from the U.S. a week and a half ago, I started experiencing all of the symptoms of transition shock listed above. Because of the awesome time of vacation I had in the States, it has been my most difficult transition BACK to the country which I have cherished and called my own for 4.5 years. Soon after my return, the weeks of learning and teaching about such a newly acknowledged concept developed a heartbeat. So much of the information I had digested and then presented (with all the professionalism I could muster as a counselor, mind you) took on new life for me...breath was breathed on a personal level. I suddenly had to apply what I had learned in a real way.

Because of this difficult transition, I find myself at a loss of what to do...it seems I can only wait out the storm. Amid the myriad of emotions that are tossed back and forth day to day, I realize that I can but cling to my Strong Tower, my Life Raft, my Secure Anchor. And in this act of dependence, the beauty of faith is revealed. Sure, I could apply all of the methods and strategies given to combat this psychological reality of transition shock, but true solace and lasting peace can only really be found in utter dependence on something greater than myself. Trying to independently overcome this phase places all of the work and potential failure on myself. Dependence uncovers the impeccability of grace. In letting go, I receive SO MUCH MORE. No effort on my part can do what grace can. It's intangible, nonsensical, incomprehensible...and therefore incredible. And it makes me stand even more in awe of our great God.

In times of crashing waves all around us, the anchor remains planted. And in clinging to this firm foundation, we re-learn the gift of praise. Praise to the Creator of the storm, the Maintainer of the storm, the Refuge from the storm, and the Calm after the storm. And so I wait...and faith grows...and grace is revealed...and praise is birthed. It is well with my soul. And I don't mind preaching to myself.

"For men swear by one greater than themselves...In the same way... we who have taken refuge would have strong encouragement to take hold of the hope set before us. This hope we have as an anchor a hope both sure and steadfast and one which enters within the veil, where Jesus has entered as a forerunner for us of the soul..."--Hebrews 6:17-20