Like coal in my stocking

Well, the good news is I still have a job. The not-so-thrilling news is that starting Jan. 3, I'll be working until midnight most days. I learned this the week of Christmas, and it seemed kinda like getting a lump of coal rather than a desirable gift in my stocking.

I typically don't deal with change very well, and that's the case again. I try to keep planning and hoping for the best. I see opportunities to make a fresh start on sleep patterns, exercise, eating and use of my nonwork time. But then my stomach weighs in, and I know I'm very, very unsettled. More than my hours are changing, but I don't yet know what the other aspects will involve.

Several times I've convinced myself I see more positives than negatives -- helped largely by amazing support from my husband, who has expressed willingness to make adjustments, too. The fact that, at least for the first month, I'm scheduled so that I can take off in time to attend choir practice on Wednesdays is another plus. But I don't see me getting up at 6 a.m. Wednesdays for the Seeking Hour that has become such an important part of my weekly routine.

For now, the uncertainty is the worst part. Even as I hope and plan for the best, I'm also trying to be prepared for the worst. What if I don't adjust? What if I can't sleep? What if I start overeating again? What if I don't like the changes in what I actually do at work? What if ...? What if ...?

So far, for every negative "what if ...," I've been able to eventually shift my mind -- at least temporarily -- to a positive thought. (I still haven't convinced my stomach.) Scripture reminds me it's a waste of time to worry about tomorrow. I cling to that and the message of Christmas, that God is with me. I also can't shake the thought that even a lump of coal can be put to productive use.

I hope that by dispatching this bit of possibly negative reality, I'll be able to sit down tomorrow or Friday and write a more upbeat assessment of the year that's ending and what may await in the coming year.