When Change Hurts

This post is personal and does not relate to my role as a pastor. 

I'm sitting here feeling angry, betrayed, and fearful. There is a big change coming, and I can do nothing about it.  I would really like to talk to everyone involved. But I cannot.  The situation is out of my hands. And yet, I wring my hands anyway.  

A part of my brain wants to create a giant backstory about why changes are happening.  Like a twist in the plot of a good novel, suddenly something unknown comes to light and it illuminates the present situation.  It changes the picture. It explains the change. This makes the change more bearable.  But the creative side of my brain cannot convince the evidence-based, rational side of the truth of such imaginative alternatives. 

A part of me wants to put on my "super woman" cape and fly in and "fix" the situation, stop the train before it hits the helpless innocents stalled on the tracks ahead of it and about to be irreparably broken. I want to shield everyone from the impending pain, confusion, chaos.  But I cannot; I am helpless to do so.  All I can do is sit and watch and worry while the security and certainty of the world implodes around us all.  

I am helpless in the face of change. I am in pain, and sick with worry.  And I feel completely ill-prepared to face this hurt.  

• I could curl up in a ball and sleep.  But the pain would haunt my dreams. 
• I could exercise fiercely. But the hurt will be as flames through my very sinews. 
• I could drink or drug myself into oblivion. But the pain will still be there buried under the stupor. 
• I could put on a strong face and pretend none of this is actually happening. But the train would still barrell down the tracks. 
• I could stomp my feet and throw a temper tantrum. But that would change nothing. 

I am out of options but one. I can only wait this out, watch from afar, and be there to help pick up the pieces and bury the dead if I live to see the other side.