Changeless

When you live a life like I have, you think a lot about change. At my writer’s critique group on Wednesday, the ladies got to chatting about how they know the people at Wal-mart, the pharmacist, the grocery store cashiers. “Don’t you like that feeling?” one of the women asked me. “I don’t know,” I shrugged. “I’ve never lived anywhere long enough to find out.”

Now, granted, that isn’t entirely true. I lived in New Hampshire long enough to know the librarians, my mechanic, and my dentist. I even ran into people I knew at the store once-in-a-blue-moon. The problem was I didn’t have a regular Wal-mart or shopping hours. I tend to run errands like that when I have a few minutes and go to the store nearest my location at the moment. And even if I did have a schedule like that, I’m also the sort of person who would rather slip and out unnoticed.

I’ve always rather envied people who grew up somewhere. What’s it like when someone asks you where you’re from and you say, “Tennessee. Small town near Nashville,” or “Denver, right on the outskirts.” When someone asks me that, I pause. Every time. It’s like staring at a multiple choice test question and knowing that the answer is “all of the above” but that isn’t one of the choices. Lately I’ve taken the, “Nowhere particular. New England mostly.” Almost makes me sound like I’m running from the law.

But then I feel sorry for those people who have never seen anything outside their own county. I’ve met people who have never seen mountains – a horrible thought. And even though I don’t like the plain country, there are people who can’t imagine seeing vast stretches of land for miles. Some of them have lived in the same house for twenty or more years – and you can tell. Never packed a box, never moved a whole ark of pets, and never felt like the new kid on the block. And even though I hate being the perpetual “new kid on the block”, I’m guessing it can be better than being the perpetual old one.

Not that change doesn’t come to everyone – even those who never leave their hometown. People come and go from one’s life. We learn and grow. Our choices always change things. God didn’t make us stagnant. And if He did, we’d complain about that, too.

I got to thinking about this last Sunday morning as I was getting ready for church. For the changelessness of God always amazes me. I think it is my favorite of His many attributes. It has seen me through the toughest moments of my life. And it will continue to. For just last Sunday I realized how this one attribute encircles all the others – but then, all of God’s attributes encircle each other.

Think about it. We pray that God would have mercy on us, our family, our situations, whatever. But honestly, we don’t have to ask for that. God is merciful. The Bible tells us that over and over and over again. And since He doesn’t change, He’s as merciful today as He was yesterday – or a thousand years ago. We ask God to be merciful not because He isn’t so. We ask in acknowledgement of our need for mercy. We ask because He’s the supplier of it. We ask because we can’t get it anywhere else.

The same goes for strength. God is strength. He’s the Creator of it, the Sustainer of it, and the Giver of it. And we need it every day. I don’t ask Him for strength in the morning because He requires us to ask if we want a supply. Thankfully my God gives me exactly what my need is every day. I ask because it acknowledges I am weak without Him.

God is sovereign – another of my favorite attributes. He doesn’t wake up in the morning, look down upon earth and say, “Those Israelites are griping again. And Moses is praying for mercy upon them. Maybe I should just skip the manna today. That would show them.” God knew when He showed mercy on wandering Israel that they would never be grateful. He knew they would become a nation filled with violence. They would forget Him and worry more about their precious land and the neighbors that threaten to steal it. Yet it didn’t matter what He knew – or knows. He chose those people. He is merciful. He will never, ever change.

Only God knows where my next “home” will be. And even though I pray for a place full of mountains, and mild summers, and snowy winters (hmm, sounds like some place I’ve lived before…) plus a long stay, a life with some kids in it, more time to write (maybe even a published book…), and the fastest exit possible out of this place called Texas – I must trust that my unchanging, sovereign God knows my heart and needs even more than I do. And He will be merciful. And He will give strength. And I can face a changing tomorrow – just like I have faced all those changing yesterdays.