March 8, 2012
You strengthen me more and more;
you enfold and comfort me. Psalm 71:21
I start my computer anticipating the screen to display the familiar page of my writing. Only it doesn’t. I forgot I updated my software. So what greets me looks all wrong.
I have avoided this upgrade for so long that I am two versions behind. The update seemed like a good idea yesterday, when I confidently decided the only way to approach a learning curve is to just do it. What was I thinking?
I have hardly begun my Lenten journey through the wilderness and already I am weary. Weary of navigating through unknown territory. Weary of a daily need for finding resources in strange terrain.
I yearn for the coziness of the habitual, where problems fall into recognizable categories and solutions are readily at hand within a menu and custom formatted toolbar.
But now I am confronted with yet another crossroads that requires something more of me. The dialog box taunts me with risk.
“You are about to save your document in the super cool new format.”
“Doing so will give you lots of new features, but you will have to depart from the comfortable landscape you know.”
I can hesitate here for only so long. Have I so soon despaired of finding new life? Have I limited my vision and thus overlooked the balm that strengthens and enfolds me? I take a deep breath and click continue.
copyright © Anne E. Kitch 2012