If I was a statue, I would be a work of art carved from either marble or stone—a masterpiece of a Da Vinci. I would sit in front of a building, guarding both it and the row of hedges behind me. Whoever would see me would awe and say, “My! That’s a beautiful work!” But gawkers would have to come to me to see the talent that created me, I wouldn’t be able to go to them. I would be beautiful, a site to behold. . . and a target for pigeons. A toilet, and I wouldn’t even be able to retaliate. . . . Everyday would be the same—the same view, the same job, the same pigeon dung. I would sit there, enjoying the same, dull beauties, and struggling through the same, dark trials.
Life would be easy if everything staid the same . . . but things change in our lives for a reason. We have new people come into our story, as others leave us. We experience new places, new sights, new adventures—the world is constantly changing, and there’s nothing that we can do to stop it.
What if we could become a statue? Stay rooted in one period of our life, wouldn’t we be in paradise?
Perhaps at first, when the experience is new, fresh, but does not the things that we enjoy eventually become dull if we enjoy them too much? How funny is a Youtube video the second time that you watch it? Probably still stinkin funny, but what about the third? Sixth? Twelfth? You may still enjoy it, but don’t you find yourself laughing less and less? Or take your favorite food for example, you love it! (hence the favorite). But how much would you still love it if that’s the only thing that you ate—three meals, everyday, all week, every year—do you think it would still be your favorite after eating it for so long?
If you were a statue, seated in one place, you would only be able to affect merely a small amount of people, and only those few who come to you. Each of us is beautifully and wonderfully made, full of purpose and gifts, but how good are we at being masterpieces if we are not willing to stage these talents?
No, change is not always enjoyable—from my experience, most of the time it’s not—but it’s needed. Life will change, people will come and go, and the view may alter outside your bedroom window, but there is a purpose to it. Life is more than a timeline of random events; it has meaning, architected in a master plan. And just because life is changing, doesn’t mean that you have to push away those who are no longer near you—I mean we have Facebook and text messaging for a reason right?
Allow change, accept it, and allow God to shine through You. (Easier said than done I know . . . but saying it is a start.)
If I was a statue
I am a person—where will my legs take me from here?