Comfortably Uncomfortable

I am entering the 26th year of my career as a speech-language pathologist. Twenty-six years have taught me to be flexible with my workspace. I have been in rooms where I had more space than I knew what to do with, to literally holding therapy sessions in a janitor’s closet. This past winter, I transitioned to a new school district, and when I saw my office space, I was SO excited! I was like, Lord, why do you bless me so much? The space was PERFECT. Not too big, not too small. The location of the room was PERFECT. Access to the bathrooms was PERFECT (and this is a big deal as I’ve gotten older!). The amount of foot traffic was PERFECT. Being able to look out my huge windows was PERFECT! I thought to myself, “What a way to finish out the remaining years of my career—God even blessed me with the PERFECT office!” AND. The coat rack and comfy chair I found to make my office more comfortable? PERFECT. Having been displaced 5 times out of the last 6 years, it appeared that this would be the last time I would have to pack my boxes and move. Hallelujah! I was home! It screamed comfort and peace and a warm welcome to those who entered!

Just kidding.

Before I left the school year for the summer, I was told that I would need to pack up and move to a different office in the front of the building. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed, but then I reminded myself that I have literally been in closets. I chose to remain grateful and positive. Then, last week, I found out where I was being moved. Stained, unraveling carpet. Much smaller space with no storage. Peeling paint. Right smack in the middle of activity. Though disappointed still, I stayed positive and chose to remain grateful. I still had my own space, and I wasn’t in a closet!

But then. I met the new speech-language pathologist who was just hired. Guess who was going into my former, PERFECT office? Yep. The newbie who was going to be split between buildings. I was stunned because it didn’t make any sense. My forced smile started to hurt, and my gut felt like it had been punched. No longer just disappointed, I was offended! I started to become angry, and the questions and negative thoughts kept running through my head, just fueling the frustration and self-righteousness. I deserved that other office space! I’ve been here longer! I’m in this building full time, and she isn’t! Did I do something wrong? Who does she think she is? And so on. By this point, I was fuming.

And then I heard the Lord quietly say to me: “Everything in this world is temporary. This is not your home. Why are you getting too comfortable where you are?” 2 Corinthians 4:18 encourages us to “fix our eyes on not what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”

But Lord. I wanted this office so badly.

“Annie, where is your home?”

But Lord, you blessed me with the perfect office in which to finish my career. Why would you take it away?

“Annie, Who is your Home?” And then the Holy Spirit gently reminded me that apart from Jesus I can do nothing…” Oh. I had gotten too comfortable with something temporary. I was holding onto something that really didn’t even come close to what Jesus offers me. I wanted my home to be in something that wasn’t guaranteed.

John 15:4 says that we are to remain in Jesus and He will remain in us. Jesus is my home. It doesn’t matter where we are physically placed; our home is in the eternal presence of our Father God. “God is our dwelling place” (Psalm 90:1). When we make our true home in Jesus, we have comfort. We have safety. We have peace. We experience the never-changing, never-ending constancy of God in His presence, unlike the places we call home on this earth. If we allow our roots to become too anchored to the wrong things, it will become more painful to uproot ourselves. If we allow our roots to become anchored in the surety of Jesus, it won’t matter where we are called. Shifting our grip on earthly things to heavenly things will not cause us to throw a temper tantrum when our lives get rocked.

Everything in this world is temporary and fades away eventually (see 1 John 2:17 and 2 Peter 3:10). Our situations are temporary. Our homes are temporary. Colossians 3:2 tells us to set our minds on things above and not on earthly things because of God’s promise of eternal life.

May we always be comfortably uncomfortable in our earthly spaces so that we can find our true comfort in the One we call home. Thank You, Jesus.