We are dogged by our changeableness because we live in a broken world. We swing between hilarity and deep sadness, anxiety and absolute peace, faithfulness and unfaithfulness, sincerity and flippancy. But God is unchanging and the one to whom, through all our changing, we should direct the ear of our heart, awake to his voice. He is immutable, unchanging, the ground of being.
There are days when faith falters, but God never falters. He has steadily carried you and kept his word and I know that regardless of whatever desert he has in store for you down the road, he will still keep his word. He will not let go. Even when you feel like you are free-falling, it is only a trick of your perception. God holds you steady in his arms. Rest on that fact and know that all your efforts to live faithfully are entirely dependent upon his faithfulness and not your own. Your faithfulness is a gift springing from his faithfulness. Give thanks for that faithfulness.
As we contemplate our fears in light of God’s faithfulness, “remember that the shadow a thing casts often far exceeds the size of the thing itself (especially if the light be low on the horizon) and though some future fear may strut brave darkness as you approach, the thing itself will be but a speck when seen from beyond” (Jim Eliot).
Only this perspective will help you act out of your loves, not out of your fears. Only this perspective will make your life stronger, more radiant. I am reminded of Joachim du Bullay, who defended his writing style to his friend, saying, “I do not sing, Magna, I cry my troubles. Or, to put it better, I sing them crying…That is why, Magna, I sing night and day…So sings the pilgrim longing for home; so the soldier of fortune dreaming of his lady; so the seaman pulling the oar; so the prisoner cursing his prison.”
As with the oyster, so will it be with you: your abrasive experiences will become the source of your best work, possibly even a pearl of great price.
Embrace the risk. Take joy.