I guess it's inevitable that in my pursuit of leading the elusive "extraordinary life" I assumed the twenties would provide, I've encountered change in its many types.

Type 1: Subtle, almost unnoticeable over weeks or months; the low hum of continuous change, constantly at work in the background.  By the time I saw the signs I was squarely in my twenties, wondering how the inevitable effects of such change had never occurred to me before.

Type 2: Small and insignificant, but so quick that I forget to take notice until all that's left is the soggy leftovers of what once was.  When I take for granted all the little, but oh so good things, expecting them to hold consistent, this change jolts and humbles me to reality.  

Type 3: The big ones.  Those changes that simply cannot be ignored, no matter how hard I might try.  Friends moving, getting married, getting divorced, having babies, changing careers, losing loved ones.  A constant reminder that a shift has occurred and we all seem to be running at a different pace.

Throughout it all, I've realized as much as I often hate change in any form, I've come to rely on it: on its steady hum, its humbling nature, its giant set-backs or steps-forward.  More than anything I've come to rely on change's ability (whether good or bad), to remind me of God.  It reminds me of the things He has given me control over and the things I can never control.

It forces allows me to let go of all my expectations of what I thought life would look like at this point and simply move forward in the hope that "there are far, far better things ahead than any we leave behind." (C.S. Lewis)