Some things in my life I can change.  Some things I cannot.  I frustrate myself with the unchangeables that I keep trying to change.   Why do I do that? Someone much wiser than I, had some advice for people like me:

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,

The courage to change the things I can,

And wisdom to know the difference.

My valley journey continues, but I think – I hope – I am coming to some form of acceptance in being here.  And acceptance is an important part of the pilgrimage and the process of grief.

Grief is not just something we experience when someone dies.  It can occur with any kind of loss.  Loss of a job or a home.  A move to another place.  A broken relationship.  We grieve what we no longer have.  It must be worked through.

I’ve run the gamut of the grief emotions, and sadly I’ve stayed in the place of anger and depression a little too long.  Nothing has changed.  Nothing is going to.  It’s time to move on.

Acceptance must be preceded by learning to be content whether in plenty or in want.  Acceptance takes surrender of my own desires and plans.   Acceptance cannot dwell in me until I trust the unseen Planner when He cancels out my plan.

The question is do I really believe that God is good and that He gives good to me?  Can I unclench my tight fists of grief, anger, depression, stress, my grasping for more of what I think I need?  Can I open my hands to receive what God gives?

He does not withhold good from me.  He gives present grace and promises future glory.  He is a sun in my darkness and a shield in my battle.

He supplies all I need in Christ Jesus.  So If I don’t have something, it must mean I don’t really need it.  Even though I want it badly.

I must choose contentment in the place I am right now.  I must be thankful for what I have, what He has given, instead of being ungrateful and discontent for what I don’t have.  Paul said it was a lesson to be learned.

God gave His only Son after all, gave Him up for me.  Will He not continue to “graciously give [me] all things?  Graciously.  All things.  To me.

If I can get there, acceptance and contentment becomes an oasis, a place of rest.  A frustrated, tired child finally gives in to Father’s arms and falls into peaceful asleep.

I know the truth.  God has a purpose for my life and He uses His plan to bring it to completion.  Conflict occurs for me when His plan and my plan collide.

I don’t understand His plan, try as I may.  It’s too far above me to grasp.  But when I look backward, I see God’s faithfulness even when it was hard and I didn’t understand.  Some things I never will fully comprehend until death removes me from the bondage of my fleshly vision.

I look forward and see His promises.  I learn to trust Him even in the long valley, even when the way is hard and I just can’t make sense of it.

Something is going on in the Heavenlies, something eternal, something beyond me, so much bigger than me.

May I learn to be content until the day I see Him face to face.  And it will be enough.