Comfort Zones

My husband and I are anomalies in this day and age. We have lived in the same city for 37 years and we have lived in the same house for 35 years. We know few people that can say that. We have raised our children in this house and our grandchildren love to come here to play, or eat or whatever. What can I say? We are comfortable here. Of course we have added on and remodeled the kitchen, and bathrooms and I love to paint walls and decorate, so we have had a few changes over the years. Sometimes when all of the children, their spouses, and their children show up for a visit I curse the tiny kitchen but generally we like our home.
I have been thinking about our comort zones a lot lately because I am always a little resistant about stepping out of mine. I have a new church job and it definitely makes me uncomfortable. I am a den mother. I like kids and having raised four sons, I feel comfortable with the boys. However I hate being in a position where I don't really know what I am doing, and this is the case here. It has been at least 25 years since I had anything to do with scouting, and I wasn't very good at it then. Hopefully, this massive case of discomfort with the situation will resolve and I will learn to love the position. Right now I feel harried, inadequate and somewhat irritated at the necessity of learning so many new things. I guess you could say that I love my safe, comfortable life and am somewhat resistant to change. I hope this isn't an early symptom of getting old. And I guess I should be thankful for the blessing of having to get up out of my proverbial rocker and learn something new. After all shouldn't every grandmother know how to make a shoebox catapult for shooting marshmallows?