Back to the Future’s Doc Brown transported Marty through time in a converted DeLorean equipped with a flux capacitor. I don’t know what that is, but I think I could use one: life is a constant state of flux, and sometimes I lack the capacity!
As our youngest daughter packed moving boxes for her ministry experience, my husband peeked up from his dessert saying, “I don’t know what you’re doing this for: you’re not goin’.”
He was joking, of course.
Flux means flow. It can also refer to a tide; a flood; constant change. Yup, that pretty much describes things around here. In the last few years, my days have switched gears several times: from homeschool mom, to caregiver, to a new church, to kitchen captain, and purchasing coordinator. So now, as Lily packs these boxes, yeah, it’s more and more evident that I must pray unceasingly: every life-change begs for mega-doses of flux capacity. [Oh, Lord, help.]
On the other hand, flux is the stuff that facilitates welding and soldering. Change has a way of shaking things up, settling down, and strengthening what joins us together. Plus, as any fisherman can tell you—without constant flow, life suffocates in a stagnant pond.
The weaker part of me wants to fear change; be discontented with perceived loss; hide from the unknown. But God’s perspective prevails:
—The secret things belong to the Lord.
—I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.
—My grace is sufficient for you.
—What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined, what God has prepared for those who love him”— these things God has revealed to us through the Spirit.
As much as I’d like an 88-MPH time machine, alas: without a billion watts, Marty McFly got nowhere. And since lightning rarely strikes twice, and I’m fresh out of plutonium, I guess I’ll just have to hunker down—right here, right now.
So, I’m helping her pack.
I was joking, of course.