December, 1992
Moving out of my parents' house is a strange feeling. Oh, I'm leaving a few things here to store because there is no room in my apartment. But for all practical purposes I am moving out of my parents' house, which is different from going to stay in a dorm for a few months. Dorms are like going to camp. Home is still home. Now a tiny apartment will become my home, and a new roommate will become my family. This house will become my parents' house, no matter how often I visit.
My life has been one big change lately. I changed schools once. I changed my major twice. Two people I was close to have died. I got a job. I had eye surgery and acquired bills to pay off. I gained ten pounds. I changed living quarters ... Four times!
I have never dealt well with change. I guess I am learning, huh? My cat, PJ, taught me a lesson about change once.
We had just adopted Casey, the other cat. She had made the end of my bed her permanent bed. I missed having PJ sleep in my arms under the covers, so one night I decided to put her under them and see if she noticed Casey.
PJ was very tense for a while, as usual, but suddenly she relaxed, stretched out, and purred. It occurred to me that she had finally begun to trust us again and to know that Casey's presence was not going to threaten her.
I do not always respond to change that way. Like PJ, I am tense and want things to be the way they have always been. But gradually I am learning to trust God and to know that the changes He brings about will not harm me.