FIGHTING CHANGE

Ahh, a girl and her basset hound.

I’ve never seen a photograph capture a relationship of mine with such incredible precision and clarity. (and, fyi, I already made the “you’d have to be in a relationship first” joke to myself, so let it lie. It‘s funny, we get it. Time to move on.)

Notice how I am kindly, gently even, stooping to the basset hound's level, as I plead with her to see reason. And, how does she respond?

Well, by hunting for rabbits, of course. Is there any better response?

Unfortunately, Lulu and I have been locked in this battle nearly every night, as of late. And, as a shock to none, have ended up with very few results.

Ok, so, no results. Except for maybe an arm workout for me.

To combat the fly infestation that seems to have overtaken South Eastern New Mexico, my family has recently infested in a bug zapper. Standing proudly outside our back door, it works tirelessly to trap and kill the pesky insects before they can even think of entering our home.

What an incredible warrior, right? Everyone loves the bug zapper, perhaps even owes some of their sanity to the bug zapper. Except, for one, glaring exception.

Thhhhaaaaattttssss right. This monster that everyone claims is “adorable”, despises our great protector. Or, maybe terrified is a better word. She is terrified to come within inches of the sound, choosing to hide instead in showers and closets when I come a’callin’ to take her outside before bed.

Are we seeing where the arm workout comes in?

Every night, I have the outright pleasure of hefting this heavy-despite-her-size basset hound out into the backyard to do her business.

Please, don’t be jealous of my incredibly glamorous life. Not all can be as blessed as me.

One night, as I was towing her boneless, cowering body out into the warm, summer air, I thought how ironic the whole situation had become. Not just that I was now truly and deeply the servant to a dog, a dog I didn’t even like, but that Lulu no longer wanted to come outside. Outside is her favorite spot to be. There, she can survey all of her endless domain, keeping rabbits and antelope at bay with her ferocious yelling.

I mean, how could that not be someone’s happy place?

And yet, now it has become somewhere she hates, somewhere she outright fears. And, why?

Because she won’t trust me.

Even as I try to soothe her worries in calm, definitely not condescending words, she refuses to believe me.

”You’re going to be fine.”

“The bug zapper’s not going to get you.” “You have to go to the bathroom.” “You know, you could stand to lose a few.”

I know what you’re thinking? How could that not put her at ease?

I’m as lost as you are.

But then, I wasn’t? Because, guess what?

I am Lulu.

I know, I literally choked on that comparison, but it’s true. Sometimes, more often than I’d like to admit, I am Lulu. Not with the pooping on people’s floors, or seeking ultimate revenge, but in the resisting change? That is me to a “T”.

Why do we do that?

Why do we fight change so, so hard?

Because we don’t know what’s on the other side? Because it can be scary?

Because sometimes it’s not the change we want?

All logical, sound (except in Lulu’s case) explanations. But, null and void by one truth.

He is there.

Behind all of the changes that life brings, whether brought on by ourselves or through His incredible foresight, our Savior is there, telling us all will be well. Toting us in His arms, He carries us into the change, with nary an insult whispered in our ears.

I know, incredible.

And yet, even with His kind words, even with the comforting feeling of His spirit, or even with the reminders of past experiences where all worked out for the best, we still fight Him. Kicking and screaming, or hiding in showers, hoping the change will pass us by.

It won’t. And, we wouldn’t want it to.

Some of the greatest blessings, ones I would not live without, came through unwanted changes. To list a few:

• Moving from Pennsylvania, land of all things pretty, to New Mexico, land of all things beige.

• Not finishing my schooling at BYU, the place where all of my dreams were supposed to come true.

• Coming home early from my mission.

• Living at home with my parents for far longer than I ever pictured.

• Moving from my hometown in the middle of a pandemic.

• Being called into Primary. To teach children. Children, whose spiritual welfare depends on me.
  

I mean, the list just goes on and on and on, and that last one is still looking a little precarious, but, unfortunately for me (or fortunately), the Savior has an 0-1,000,000 batting average. Each of those blessed, now beloved changes, brought me to some of the best places in my life. He truly knows me better than I know myself. He knows what will make me the most happy, and what pressures and alternations are needed to mold me into the best version of me.

Looking back now, I would not get rid of a single one of those changes when at the time, that was all I wanted to do.

He had different plans, and I am so grateful He did.

So, with the eye-opening punch to the gut that the comparison earlier was, I have decided to initiate my own change. I am going to de-basset hound myself.

Rather than dragging my feet, forcing the Savior to literally carry me into the next phase of my life, I am going to be brave. Hand in hand, we will cross the threshold together, His whispered words and reminders enough to help me face my fears.

Because, what do I really have to be afraid of?

Never once has He led me astray, and often times, on the other side, I am in awe and deep, kneeling gratitude at the miracle He has created out of my mess. Countless times He has proved I can trust Him, that He loves me, and that He never has anything but my best interest at heart.

It’s my time to do the proving.

So, all four of you who read Negative (N)ellie, as always we thank you for your service, but also, we suggest a pact. Let us make a promise to rid ourselves of anything that resembles Lulu. Rather than fighting and hiding from change, let us embrace it, welcome it as best we can.

Because, we know from who it comes, and how much good it can do. We know who loves us most, and that, is more than enough reason to stop fighting change.