Change = Growth

"If we don't change, we don't grow. If we don't grow, we are not really living. Growth demands a temporary surrender of security." - Gail Sheehy

I subscribe to an email service that sends me a quote each day. I find many of them bland and oversimplistic, but today's got my attention. I don't know the author, but I feel that I can attest to the comment.

Probably most of us look back on our years spent on this planet with a mixture of pride and revulsion. In our wakes we see great successes and crushing defeats, mountain-top experiences and deep emotional valleys. We also see seasons of stagnancy and seasons of growth.

Like the author of the quote, I think most growth occurs under change. Change, in turn, usually produces stress, and occasionally pain. But the end result is often positive growth.

This assessment seems counter-intuitive. Our typical response during stressful experiences is to look (sometimes frantically) for an avenue of escape. As Sheehy suggests, we scramble for security and ease. But sometimes it is precisely that lack of security that forces us to evolve and adapt, to strengthen and grow.

Think of it. Muscular growth occurs after the body has been pushed to or beyond its maximum capacity, and mental growth occurs much the same way. Any significant academic growth occurs only after effort and hard work have been invested; professional growth ranges from painful to enjoyable, but always costs something. Financial growth is rarely painless, and spiritual growth often takes place during or after periods of testing (requiring faith in the unseen). Social and relational growth is seldom automatic and usually entails some degree of risk.

In the context of my life, I’ve observed this principle at work over the last two years. In the spring of 2007, my wife and I decided to make a significant transition, moving from Winnipeg, MB to Vancouver, BC. Both of us were leaving behind the city of our birth and upbringing; properties; friends and family; jobs that we enjoyed; school and church communities that we loved dearly. We were moving to a city that was unfamiliar; to a home that we couldn’t call our own; to no friends and almost no family; to school and church communities that were essentially unknown.

It wasn’t an easy experience, but we both believed strongly that it was right. Throughout the transition, we trusted God for direction and confirmation. And now, two years after that fateful decision, I can see growth in almost every domain of our lives. It’s such a surging conviction that I shudder to think of where we would be, if two years ago we had simply ‘stuck with what worked’ for the sake of convenience, and once again, security.

It’s now the spring of 2009, and we can no longer describe ourselves as ‘in transition.’ Daily and imperceptibly, our roots in this community grow deeper. So where do we go from here? Only God knows. But if change can create growth, then needless continuity must tend to create stagnancy. And so we must continue to challenge ourselves, to stretch ourselves, to resist the urge to fortress our lives by all that is familiar and secure.