Transitions

“One thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me” (Philippians 3:13-14, NIV) Tuesday morning last week, I read this note in the margin of my Daily Bible: “December 11, 2007 - my last City Council meeting.”

I wrote that in my Bible so I wouldn’t forget; it was a big day in my life. I had served on the Midland City Council for twelve years.

I don’t remember much about that last meeting except that it felt right - like it was time to move on. I had no real regrets about leaving, yet I would’ve stayed and enjoyed it had I won the election.

The peace of that particular day surprised me, since I’d spent years wondering what I would do with myself after leaving government. I enjoyed serving on the Council, even the difficult and painful times. I loved making decisions that made Midland better, stronger, and safer for families. I was proud of the work I did to encourage park development, improve quality of life, and turn vacant run-down empty lots into living neighborhoods. I poured a great deal of intellectual and emotional energy into city government, and it occupied a huge portion of my mental capacity for the entire twelve years.

So my biggest questions on December 11, 2007 were, what will I do next, and who will care? Maybe the unspoken question was this: Who will I be after today?

For twelve years I’d wondered how it would end. I expected to be anxious and restless after leaving, until all those government wheels spinning in my head coasted to a stop.

But what really happened was this: nothing. The daily wear-and-tear and problem solving flew away quickly and completely. Instead of being haunted by my own absence, I was free. I forgot about government almost immediately. It faded quickly into something I used to do, long ago and far away, like going to college or being single.

The freedom was a gift from God. He was telling me be cool, it was time to go, press on to the future, and forget what lies behind.

Here’s what happened next.

I found time to write and publish two books. (My third will be out in January 2013.)

I dived deeper into the lives of the men God entrusted to me.

Cyndi and I built a new house - actually, we stood around and watched while Kahler Homes built it - and we love it. We filled it up with people almost immediately and have kept it full ever since.

I don’t know how I could have done any of those if still in government.

What I am trying to say is, while I enjoyed serving all those years, and I am certain I would enjoy it today if I were still there, I am happier in my new life. Happier than I was before, and happier than I expected to be. And the fact the transition was so easy makes it even better. As if God took my hand, led me across the street, and said, “Let’s try some different stuff over here for a while.”

Well - back to my Daily Bible - the next morning, December 12^th, I read a story from Acts 24 that reminded me how transitions seldom work out as quickly or cleanly as we want. Most are harder, and most drag on longer that we hope.

The story in Acts was about a time when the Apostle Paul spent two years in prison because the governor was afraid to make a decision. Two years, gone, just like that.

Paul’s situation reminded me of another transition story. In 1994, like many other engineers, I was laid off by my employer of fifteen years. It took two years before I was working again. Two years, in the middle of my career, gone, just like that. Unemployment was frustrating and embarrassing; hard to comprehend God’s purpose.

However, during that time I developed the practice of writing one page every day. The topic wasn’t important as long as I filled the page. I also broke out of my corporate cocoon and dipped into the relational side of the independent oil and gas industry. I made a lot of new friends.

At the time, both of those activities seemed like busy work, stalling until something better came along. But looking back I realize they made my current life and work possible. Who knew?

And to be honest, the period of transition that began in 1994 has never really ended. Instability and uncertainty just became my way of life. I can’t say I am happy about that, but I’ve grown comfortable with it.

So sometimes, the transition doesn’t end right away. Maybe we need more training or conditioning; maybe the circumstances aren’t ready for us; maybe we just need to be grow up a little bit. It’s often hard to know the “why” of God’s timing.

The end of the calendar year means transitions for most of us. This is a great opportunity to move from the past, whether behaviors or beliefs or roadblocks, and into the next phase. It won’t be easy, but transitional moments should never be wasted. Ask God to show you what to leave behind and what to press toward.

And another thing about transitions. We seldom get a peek at what will come next. God doesn’t show the next thing to us until we are ready, and like ten-year-old boys, we are never ready as soon as we think we are.

So press on toward those transitions. They may happen quickly, or may take two years, but you can trust God to have your future in his plan.

Questions: Which big transition of your life happened quickly? Which took a long time? What do you see for 2013?

“I run in the path of Your commands, for You have set my heart free.” Psalm 119:32

Simple things

Just as you received Christ Jesus the Lord, so go on living in him—in simple faith (Colossians 2:6, Phillips) I asked my friend, Randall, “When do you reach the grandfather stage when you don’t have to do every single thing your granddaughter asks?”

He said, “Well, can you say no to your daughter, yet?”

Good point.

Our Thanksgiving week started Sunday afternoon when Cyndi brought our 2.73-year-old granddaughter, Madden, to our house in Midland, from her home in Mansfield. We had her all to ourselves until her parents, Drew and Katie, drove in Wednesday evening.

Madden is delightful. She talks all the time in (what seems to me to be) highly complex sentences. And she wants me to do everything with her. “Pops, let’s hop across the street together.” “Pops, come sit beside me and read to me.” “Pops, I want some cheese” “Why did you switch cars with Gran, Pops?” “I want to do it myself.” “Pops, can you make a funny face?” “I want to do it myself.” “Let’s go down the big slide together.” “Pops, watch out for the goose poop on the sidewalk.” “I want to do it myself.” “I want you to do it with me.” And, like that. It was great, but exhausting. I haven’t been on two-year-old duty since 1985, and I’ve lost most of my endurance. But simply hanging with Madden simply made me happy.

The thing is, because I wanted to spend as much time as possible with Madden, I didn’t go running or cycling all week. It was a good trade, but I missed moving down the road. I also missed Cyndi’s Wednesday morning Body Pump class, staying home in case Madden woke up.

I finally got to run Thursday morning, in the Midland Turkey Trot 5K.

My daughter, Katie, won the women’s race outright. Of course she did. I didn’t win anything. For one thing, I’m slow, but also because I was in the same age group as Popcorn (Boston qualifier) and Craig (Ironman triathlete). So there was no pretending I had a chance. I did finish ahead of the woman pushing a stroller, so I had that to brag about.

I could have gone to Cyndi’s Body Pump class Friday morning but instead I opted to stand in line outside Sam’s Club with daughter Katie. We tricked my son-in-law, Drew, into going to Cyndi’s class. It was satisfying to see him sore the rest of the day, being the workout beast that he is. It made me feel better about my own soreness from chasing Madden.

To maximize family time, I put all my exercise thoughts toward Sunday afternoon, hoping for a long and fast bike ride. It would be my big comeback, my reentry into routine. My chance to start moving again, as well as burn off holiday snacking.

So when it was finally Sunday afternoon, I got dressed to ride (after some premium time with Cyndi), but when I grabbed my bike from the ceiling hooks, I discovered the back tire was flat.

Not a problem, however. Still excited about finally moving, I quickly changed the tube and raced away down “A” Street.

I was about a mile-and-a-half from home when I realized the shimmy in my back wheel wasn’t from gravel in the road but from another flat. I had to creep back home, keeping my weight forward on my front tire. I changed the tube again.

My second time to leave home, I made it a half-mile before feeling the same unstable shimmy. Bummer, another flat. I was starting to lose my excitement about this Sunday afternoon ride.

When I removed the tube, I saw it was doubled back over itself, overlapping about three inches near the stem. The folding had caused the flat, and it was the second time I’d seen the exact phenomenon that afternoon. The tube must have crossed back on itself while I aired it up. Both flats were my fault; I was in a hurry. I’m not exactly sure what I did wrong, but I suspect I should have put a bit of air into the tube before fitting it between rim and tire.

By then, my brilliant Sunday afternoon had morphed into Sunday evening. It was too dark ride safely, no matter how much I wanted to log some miles. I was quite disappointed. All I needed to top off my excellent week was a simple bike ride, but now the opportunity was gone. I didn’t know what to do with myself except to drive downtown to check my post office box. A weak cure for frustration, I know, but I had to move myself somewhere, even if in my truck.

Later that evening as I told my sad story to Cyndi, I wondered where I had gone wrong with my plan for cycling Sunday afternoon.

But I hadn’t gone wrong (other than poor flat-fixing technique). I had invested my week in the best things of life; the simple things, like chasing my beautiful granddaughter around the house, and standing in line at Sam’s making obscure wisecracks with my daughter. Those simple things bring me the most joy in life.

So I started making plans for Monday. I was certain I could squeeze twelve fast cycling miles into my lunch break. What could be simpler than that?

“I run in the path of Your commands, for You have set my heart free.” Psalm 119:32

To learn about Berry’s books, “Running With God,” go to ww.runningwithgodonline.com , or “Retreating With God,” go to ww.retreatingwithgod.com ,… Follow Berry on Twitter at @berrysimpson or on Facebook … Contact Berry directly: berry@stonefoot.org … To post a comment or subscribe to this free journal: www.journalentries.org