On August 13, 1968, life changed.
My parents went to a strange place and signed papers. We then went to Paula Stringer Realtors office (no longer there) on Central Expressway and picked up a key. We drove to the place the key fit.
620 Kindred Lane in Richardson.
We opened the door to a two-story house, twice the size of the one we moved from in Santa Fe, NM. The yard was huge. And for the first time, I had my own bedroom.
An orange and white moving van swung open its doors, and familiar furniture filled an unfamiliar house.
It was 52 years ago today, my family moved to Richardson.
So many things happened since. I graduated from high school and followed up with college. Vickie and I married. For forty-five years, we ministered in three different churches. We had great kids along the way and lost both parents in the interval. Grandchildren smiled on our lives.
Then, in March of this year, COVID-19 sliced through human existence and regular routines.
We say, “everything changed.” Stores closed. Hair grew into the caveman still of unkempt. Houses became dungeons. Zoom became a word unassociated with speed.
Everything did change…as it always had.
Life is a series of alterations, collisions, and rebounds. Seeds get planted, and sometimes, weeds come forth. Life is about change.
Sometimes you get what you want. Many times you endure what you don’t want.
The pandemic forced me to grasp the significance that this is just another change of many in my life. It will be that way for my grandchildren, as well.
Whatever is happening in your life right now, be prepared. Life doesn’t get to normal. It alters…all the time…every year.
The only thing you can do with changes is to adapt. I like the beatitude that says “blessed are the flexible for they will never be bent out of shape.” (I know, Jesus never said that!)
To find peace, accept the conditions you have, live with them in dignity and grace, and stop complaining. It doesn’t help you, and it doesn’t change anything either.
So I yearn for the day when it seemed nothing would change and now I realize everything has changed. I am thankful for the memories but more thankful for the changes. That is the headwaters of strength and joy.