My mornings start pretty slowly.
In some ways, it suits me. Up-and-at-em mornings have never been my thing. But this is next level. Healing from a herniated disc is anything but up-and-at-em.
Kurt gets the kids up and out the door to school. He handles backpack signatures and drop off lines and 90th wake up calls for our teenage boy.
He brings me a protein shake so I can take my Gabapentin and Ibuprofen before trying to stand, because we’ve learned that unmedicated standing equals tears and rage. (I get angry when I’m in pain. It’s a defense mechanism.)
He lets our puppy out of his crate for round one bathroom breaks, and then Ryker’s allowed to come snuggle me in bed, which is his sacred honor.
I drink my shake and take my meds and try not to feel guilty for sleeping in and “lounging in bed” when it’s not Mother’s Day (because that’s the only day I don’t feel guilty for sleeping in and lounging in bed – I’m working on it).
I sometimes fall back to sleep, sometimes read a devo on my YouVersion app, sometimes flip through Instagram or some combination of all three. Eventually, I get up to test my sea legs and evaluate the level of pain. Lately, there’s been a lot more of crawling back into bed with a heating pad and my TENS unit and deep breathing/progressive relaxation exercises because the pain was more than I could bear. (Tombstone)
We were at dinner with our friends/pastor-mentors last night, and he said to me, “Isn’t it interesting that while you are receiving clarity to step out into the next thing the Lord has for you, you’d be struggling to literally take a step?”
Yeah. I know, the irony isn’t lost on me. I just don’t know what to do about it.
He honed in on the spiritual component – the obvious attack and the lessons the Lord might be using these moments to teach me.
“I feel like I’ve had SO many lessons…” I whined.
“He’s lessoning you up for what’s next!” he answered.
He reiterated that he doesn’t believe God is causing the pain in order to “teach me a lesson,” rather He is capitalizing on what Satan intends for discouragement and distraction to show me more about Himself and more about myself so that I can continue to be transformed into the likeness of His Son. Which, after all, is the goal for all of us.
Ok, Lord, what’s the lesson? Help me learn it quickfast so I can be done with this pain.
This colliding with John Mark Comer’s new book, The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry, and the song, “Way Maker” we just introduced at church. My takeaway from both so far: It is safe to stay the moment, because God is faithfully and miraculously at work.
It is safe to stay the moment, because God is faithfully and miraculously at work.
If “hurry is the great enemy of spiritual life” as John Mark claims, then rushing through a spiritual lesson is just plain foolishness.
This realization doesn’t stop the pain from shooting down my leg with a mix of stabby, burny, and hot-cold sensations that make my two middle toes ache. It doesn’t immediately take away the sting of looking at my “Talitha Koum” tattoo while literally unable to “get up.”
But maybe it brings a perspective shift that says, “This moment will not be lost on me.” There is a deliberate pace in pain – a required paring down that I’m all too familiar with. Except this time, because the pain is more physical than emotional (though it is emotional as well), I get to have a hint of clarity in the midst.
The goal of life is love, not ease. The response is to Him, not to a call. His burden is easy and light – it’s all the other stuff piled up on top that complicates things.
I’m just musing. Obviously I’m still very much in the middle of this process.
But I said I wanted to invite you all into the journey that is the Wagoners moving to the Balkans, so here it is! The messy middle! 🙂
Love you all, and thanks for your prayers.