Have you ever tried a geographical cure for
your problems? Just move to a new city and leave your problems in the old one.  The difficulties you’ve had and the
challenges you’ve faced in the past are the fault of the clueless employers and
insensitive coworkers you’ve been cooped-up with for all these years. 
So, get a new job in a new place with new
co-workers and everything will be different; you will be different. 
You’ll shed your pattern of procrastination.  You’ll become a morning person who finds it
easy to get to work on time—no more tying your tie or applying your makeup at
stoplights.  You’ll be proactive and
positive. 
A geographical cure: a new place and a new you.  A few years ago, I read this tongue-in-cheek
story in The Onion:
ATLANTA—All of
area resident Brian Shepard’s problems, including his fear of commitment, lack
of personal direction, and inability to learn from past failures, will be
instantly solved this week when the 29-year-old packs up his belongings and
moves to a new city. “Moving to Portland is going to make all the
difference in the world,” said Shepard, who, just by putting 2,500 miles
distance between himself and years of destructive behavior, will suddenly turn
his life around. “It won’t be anything like Chicago, or Boston, or San
Francisco. This is exactly what I need right now.” Shepard also plans to
completely eliminate his dependence on self-denial by ignoring his dependence
on self-denial.  (The Onion, December 5, 2008)
Speaking from my own experience, I can tell
you that the promises of geographical cure are an illusion.  As I heard myself telling a friend: “Mike,
here’s something I’ve learned: Hell is portable.  You take it with you wherever you go.”    
There might be good reasons for taking a new
job or going to a new school or moving to a new town, but a new office, a new
classroom, and new address don’t automatically make us new people.  There’s no magic in a moving van. 
We can’t, after all, move away from
ourselves.  What we need is not a
geographical cure, but transformation—a deep healing of the wounds and
brokenness which drive the patterns which hurt us and other people; an infusion
of confidence that God loves us fully and joyfully, no matter what and forever,
and a  thoroughgoing renewal of our gifts
and talents.  Geography doesn’t cure us,
but God can change us.