Opting for Growth

Oregonians love their bumper stickers, so it seems. Or at least I notice them here a lot more than I did in Utah. Maybe that's because the messages are of a different sort than the ones adorning bumpers in Utah. In place of the overabundance of "My child is an honor student at such-and-such high school" or "RULDS2?" stickers, Oregonians prefer liberal, politically charged or environmentally friendly messages, or, to be fair, a great deal of stickers promoting Christianity and faith ("It's all about Jesus" is a personal favorite).

So imagine my surprise when one of my life's great epiphanies resulted from reading and thinking about one of these very bumper stickers. I saw the thought-provoking sticker not too long after we moved here, during the time when I was still battling homesickness and making the huge adjustment to not only the move, but also being a first-time mom and a first-year law school student's wife. I felt overwhelmed. I felt new and awkward in just about every setting because everything and everyone was new to me. I felt anxious. I felt lonely. I wanted my old life back -- the life where I knew everyone and I knew places because I'd lived in that area my entire life. I missed the familiarity, the comfort level, the ease.

So what did the sticker say that evoked enough thought that I felt the need to blog about it? Well, right in front of my eyes, waiting for a light to change, there it was, the message I needed to cure my blues: "Change is inevitable. Growth is optional." And right there, at the intersection of Madrona and 12th Street, I felt it. I felt the need to get over my wishing back the past (because it wasn't going to come back) and to move forward. To let all the inevitable changes, and there were many of them, amount to something positive. To let them strengthen my character, open new experiences and opportunities, and maybe, just maybe, even make me a better person. To allow me, as the wise little sticker suggested, to grow.

So now, several months after the fact, I think I can honestly say that I have grown. I've accepted that my life did change -- in big ways. And those changes were hard. They were uncomfortable, stretching, painful, sometimes even heartbreaking. But with those growing pains came wonderful opportunities -- opportunities to swallow my pride and ask for help, particularly from Heavenly Father. My prayers certainly became more personal and more fervent as I worked through those lonely first months. Opportunities to make new friends. I think because of my situation -- being far from home and being an overwhelmed new mom/law school "widow" -- I've formed stronger bonds with people than I have in a long time. And I find it no coincidence that God has placed people who I consider to be angels in my path -- friends who have shown me the ropes, known just when to call or stop by, who have lifted and encouraged, offered to help, or even just performed the simple (yet sweet and thoughtful) act of dropping off ice cream, brownie mix, and DVDs of a favorite TV show on a bad day.

And the list of opportunities goes on and on. Opportunities to reach outside myself and leave my comfort zone. Opportunities to be humble and realize I can't do it all on my own. Opportunities to rediscover my talents and find ways to put them to good use. Opportunities to remember how it feels to be the new girl and go out of my way to make sure that no one else has to feel sad or lonely or out of place. Opportunities after opportunities after opportunities.

Opportunities to grow, which is, by the way, optional (so I read on a bumper sticker anyway).