Growing Pains

I have found a recurring theme in my life that I like to refer to as growing pains. Becoming a bigger and better person doesn’t, in itself, bring you much pain. It’s not like exercising, where you come home sore galore and fear the pain with every aching moment. No no no! It’s more like the pain of wearing shoes that are two sizes too small. Have you ever been there: shoes won’t fit but you’re forced to wear them anyway? Maybe growing up, mom sat in denial that you actually needed them. Maybe you bought them thinking it would be alright, only to find out that it wasn’t? Maybe you simply weren’t paying attention and grabbed the old pair for a vacation, only to regret it with all your heart, soul and mind halfway through? 

I’m reminded of one such moment, though it wasn’t with shoes. I was a little kid and we were flying back home for the summer. But the cheapest flight landed us four hours from where we were actually staying. We were so pooped by the time we got off the plane that we could hardly remember our names, let alone care about how long our drive was. Oh, and did I mention that we landed at almost midnight? Yeah, this one was a trip for the books. Right now I am blanking on how old I was, but I had one year left before I could officially graduate from car seats. The problem was that I was a very tall lad, and our car seat wasn’t made for a me-sized kid. So there I sat for four hours: tired, cranky, and squirming from a car seat that was far too small for me to be sitting in (looking back, I think it should be more illegal to strap an oversized child to such an undersized device. Maybe that’s the reason I am having back pain.) 

This funny story often reminds me of life. Sometimes we meet people, wonderful people at that, but your friendship doesn’t last forever. It isn’t a fight or disagreement, per se, that forces you apart, but simply the growth. Sometimes one of you grows in a different direction than the other. Neither of you may be wrong, it’s simply a different path of life. Maybe Sir Jonathan is shooting for the highest-paid position in all the land, whilst Sir Bartholomew seeks merely the means to support his growing family, having the time and energy left over to love and cherish them. Different growth paths, different goals. Often this process can be like two travelers stopping for the night at the local Inn. They may enjoy their time together, but swiftly understand that they will be going in different directions in the morning. But this doesn’t always happen when two people are physically separated. Sometimes someone is still around as you grow apart. Sometimes you find yourself spending less time with them. Sometimes you begin to feel more strongly about their habits. You disagree more fervently with their ways and begin to pray you never become like them. I often thank God for removing me from certain groups, lest I become like those scoundrels I once called friends.But does that mean they were truly evil people? Does it mean you were wrong to invest your time and energy into them in the first place? I’m inclined to think not. Sometimes you need a rest-stop buddy, a passing friend. Is it tragic that such a good thing has come to an end? Of course! Will you miss them in days to come, praying you might have another chance to converse with them as you once did? I’d say that’s only natural. 

But sometimes your values shape and reshape, and you find yourself not enjoying what you once did. Sometimes the setting you both find yourselves in changes, and you see sides of them that you don’t like, or didn’t even know existed! Sometimes certain things play a bigger role, making what was once overlooked a major issue. Whatever it is, people change. They always change. Does this make it wrong? Probably not. Sure, the violent exits are never fun, and there’s never anything truly good about goodbye, it’s just necessary. 

Many times, I use this to justify my farewells. I often struggle with how long a friendship should last. Whether or not every friend should be a friend forever, or if such a temporary friend is truly justifiable, I’m still not sure. It worries me sometimes. But I use this insight to remind myself that you don’t have to superglue yourself to every person you meet. Sometimes you bud for a season, then grow into different trees. The burning of bridges is always a nasty process, so I always do my best to make peace and keep the damage to a minimum. But I don’t always feel the need to rebuild a friendship to its former glory. There’s a time and a place for that, but sometimes it’s better to simply admit that you won’t be traveling together any longer. 

I often blame myself when a friendship goes sour. It happens more often than you’d think, and I am quick to assume that it’s my fault. But lately I have been reminding myself that these things happen. If I did something awful to bring about this great calamity, I will figure that out when I’m at peace with myself. I will assess my strengths and weaknesses when I won’t feel them as heavily. Guilt and sadness mingle well in the party of life, so it’s best to keep them contained when possible. I take time to grieve and be sad, then I reflect on how I can grow as a person. Maybe I can’t. Maybe this was supposed to happen. Maybe we served our purposes in each other’s lives, and it’s simply time to move on.

But lately I have actually started getting excited about these times. Part of it is because I do believe in a higher power that is orchestrating my life to greater heights, and part of it because I see the excitement of new opportunities. In other words, I know that shedding my old skin is a very real sign that I am growing into a new one. I can see it, I can feel it. I have gone through enough sets of skin to know that something greater is on the way. Oh boy, I get giddy sometimes, knowing full-well that greater heights are just before me. It’s like my car is about to get a big upgrade. It will drive faster, run smoother, and perhaps even drink less gas for it! Who wouldn’t be excited about that?But it doesn’t take away the pains of growing. It doesn’t remove the sorrow of your old skin. Your tribe you once called friends, the elders and deacons that make up the place you once called “home.” They’ll always be there, but just as a memory. They’ve changed and so have you, and there’s a time to look back and hurt. Hurt because you’re going to miss what you had, what you wish so desperately you could hold onto. But deep down it’s clear that there’s no going back. You’ll never be the same again, and this makes you cry. Sometimes tears of joy, sometimes tears of sorrow. Either way, the path is clear and the road travels on. But if you’re on the right one, you’ll know the feeling that follows. The feeling of hope, because although there’s pain, sorrow and toil, you know that you’re chasing a greater tomorrow. And before you know it, you’ll be able to touch the sunshine. That greater tomorrow will morph into a blissful today. 

You’ll get there

I promise