Sweet Change is Gonna Come 

 

Life is changing at a fast pace. I admit I’m struggling a bit trying to find my place. My twin boys are upcoming seniors in high school. I can hardly wrap my mind around it. Seems like yesterday we were praying our way through infertility.

Multiple Sclerosis came into our lives the second month of their first year of middle school. If I spend too much time thinking of things I have missed out on, let’s just say is not a place I need to dwell. Today they don’t need me as much. My role is changing and I take each conversation and each stolen moment as a sweet blessing.  

Change is not all bad. We welcomed our first grandchild, a sweet baby girl into the family. My daughter became a mommy; my son-in-law became a daddy. My husband will soon be referred to as Pawpaw and my twin boys as uncle or “HUNKies (as I have been calling them). I am being promoted to Grandmama.  I plan to be called Honey, but again, that may change. Rest assured, I will answer to whatever that sweet angel calls me. 

Sweet change is gonna come and we are so ready! 

A couple of months ago my husband told me he was tearing down the boys’ treehouse. I felt like he sucker punched me.  

Why in the world would you do that?” I asked.   

That treehouse was a sweet labor of love and our little boys’ dream hideaway. It was made from old barn wood that had laid around idly for years. It was no longer of use to the man that gave it to my husband. It was remnants of an old family barn. My husband brought life back into those forgotten pieces of wood and they were given a new life and purpose. Countless nerf gun battles were fought in that structure and many giggles were shared within its walls. I almost cried when I saw its sad looking shell. 

  

A few weeks later I drove up in the driveway after work to see my husband working on a new project. I was amazed at the new life he gave to the old barn wood from the tree house. We desperately needed to replace our garage door. The old barn wood was no longer an unused tree house, but was promoted to beautiful, one of a kind, barn door for our garage. I quickly got over my sadness about the treehouse.  

My new philosophy as I face many new changes will be: “If you are not needed as a treehouse anymore, maybe you can become barn doors.”  

Nothing remains constant except change itself.  - unknown   

Karen  

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