Moving through Change

change, faith, catholic

Poor Ms. Daisy. She’s been going through a terribly rough time since our middle son moved out after his wedding. In fact, I believe she’s been completely traumatized.

When Luke still lived at home, Daisy slept in his bed with him whenever he slept and then nestled into the bedding alone when he wasn’t around. No matter where she started her naps and night’s sleep, she ended up in Luke’s bed. That was her place. Period.

The days following the wedding weren’t all that bad, because Luke left most of his stuff in his room so he could take his time emptying it. He and his wife live close by, and it was no hassle to drop in and get what he needed when he needed it. That made Daisy happy, since it still felt like Luke’s room to her.

Then came the awful, mind-shattering, fate changing day. Luke and Audrey showed up with a load of horrible contraptions called ‘packing boxes,’ filled them with Luke’s belongings – ALL OF THEM – and…left with them! Her world was shattered.

That night, when we went up to bed, Daisy stopped at the top of the stairs, dropped her tail and simply stared into Luke’s room with a sad, bewildered expression on her face that nearly broke my heart. I tried to console her, distract her, encourage her, but to no avail. She stood there as if she was made of stone, staring…staring…staring. Finally, too tired to deal with it any longer, I left her standing there and went to bed.

In the morning, I found her in a pathetic little huddle on the floor just inside the doorway of Luke’s old room. When I called to her, she slowly lifted her head and looked up at me as if to say, “When is he coming back?”

This continued for several days. Every time she topped the stairs, she’d stand and stare into Luke’s room, utterly confused. At night, she’d keep her sleepy watch for his return.  And so it went.

Until one day, the unthinkable happened. We gutted the room. Then we proceeded to renovate it. As with most old houses, this required hours and hours of work, stripping wallpaper, patching holes, sanding woodwork, replacing sections of ceiling, painting walls, doors, and window frames, and installing new carpet. On top of that, we moved other stuff in:  A desk and table, chair, shelving, and supplies. Gradually, Luke’s room was transformed into a home office.

All the while, Daisy continued her stop-and-stare routine each night at the top of the stairs, but since the room no longer resembled Luke’s, she started sleeping elsewhere. Not happily, mind you. Even more, she set about showing us how displeased she was with our efforts, pacing back and forth as we worked on the room, shooting us looks of concern and distaste… When she’d discover that this charade had no effect on our resolve, she’d plop herself down, letting out a long, LOUD, irritated groan. Apparently, we humans knew not what we were doing. Humpf.

Ms. Daisy doesn’t appreciate change, nor do I. So, I can understand how she feels. I know change can be good, but I don’t adapt to it easily, and I often find myself wishing I could do what Daisy does – plop myself down and let out a long, loud, irritated groan. Sometimes, figuratively speaking, I do.

Thanks be to God, I have something that Daisy does not: Faith. I have faith in Divine Providence, faith that God has a precise plan and that his plan is perfect. Even when I’m pacing in concern and distaste or in a pathetic huddle, my faith tells me that Someone wiser, more powerful, and unconditionally loving and merciful is in charge. That uplifts me and helps me to stop staring in bewilderment and move forward.

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