“Honey, can you please get my crutches?”
“Will you please help me put my boot on?”
“Can you refill my water bottle, please?”
“GET THE DOOR!”
“HAND ME MY PHONE! IT’S RINGING! Where is it?”
These and a million other requests have been part of my life for the past two weeks. And I don't really like it.
On June 2nd as I was coming down the stairs after tucking the last little child into bed my oldest daughter and I were joking about how badly she needed dark chocolate and I needed a glass of wine. We were laughing and apparently not paying careful enough attention to the stairs we were descending. All of a sudden the next step was gone! I kept going down when I should have felt the second to the last stair beneath my left foot. I landed fully on my twisted ankle and heard the most horrible crunchy tearing sound as I crashed to the floor. Assisted by the strong arms of my husband I made it into the recliner where I would alternately sob and squirm trying to get comfortable for the night .
An appointment was scheduled, x-rays were made, extensive torn ligaments was the diagnosis. Here’s a boot. Stay in your chair, off your foot as much as possible for six to eight weeks.
But, I have ELEVEN CHILDREN!
But I JUST got home from China!
But I’m supposed to be doing all the feeding, changing, bathing, caring for these two new ones.
But, but, but… But God has a different plan.
And it involves a lot of sitting. And resting. And being in the midst of the hubbub directing, observing, listening, asking, waiting.
Submitting to, accepting, yes, even embracing this plan has been a process. I wouldn’t say I’ve really fully accepted it. Yet. I am resigned but that’s different. But realizing the need to accept it is a step in the right direction.
This season has given me a whole new level of respect for my mother. The last several years of her life she lost alot of her mobility. She depended deeply on my dad who took excellent care of her. Still, the lack of independence, the inability to do for oneself was difficult. I remember so many conversations with her agonizing, “but I can’t do anything but sit here!” And I’d encourage her, “Oh but you can! You call me and you pray for us, that is so valuable.” Sometimes it helped and sometimes she just wanted to do… and couldn’t. I empathize now. I’m a do-er and so was she.
Be still and know that I am God.
Be still and know that I will be glorified.
I’ve never been very good at the "be still" part. I am learning.
Lord, thank you for this season. Help me to be still and not struggle against my confinement. I know that You will use this season to shape me into the person you want me to be.