def. Status Quo: normal conditions.
There is no such thing as status quo.
When things seem to have leveled out, things change.
When life seems to be even keel, along comes a bump.
When plans fall into place easily, something falls apart.
So I've been thinking.
Why do we push for normal conditions? Why is a leveled out, even keel life so desirable? And whose plans are the most important anyways?
I feel like we need to start a support group: My name is Carlee and I am a comfort-aholic.
I thought I had gotten close to conquering this need for comfort. We live on one income. We don't run our air conditioner. We drive old cars.
Also, we choose to be friends with lots of different kinds of people--in other words, we don't flock together with birds of our feather only. And sometimes that's uncomfortable.
And, we trust God to direct our paths.
And yet, I have found plenty of ways to seek out and insist upon my own comfort.
I really wanted this house.
I have a schedule. I like to stick to it. I get a little grumpy when it gets thrown off.
I want savings in the bank, life insurance, and fences around my pool.
I like to stock my pantry, keep emergency supplies on hand, and never run out of conditioner...or chocolate covered pretzels.
Yes, many of those things have their place and are wise. But when they become our help in time of need, our source of security, or our obsession, they stop being a help and start becoming a hinderance.
Yesterday was hard. My sweet niece had another seizure--that's 2 in 3 months. Out goes the schedule. No Bible or Spelling tests. No chores, no healthy homecooked meals, and $5 pizza for dinner with rootbeer (Daddy cooked). I spent the day in the ER with Jadelyn and her mom. We spent over an hour waiting for her new anti-seizure medication (fortunately we spent most of our wait at In N Out), and I drove them home.
Joanna did not wake up expecting to watch her daughter seize, then start to turn blue, and then seize again. She was not planning on calling 911 (really not planning...Jadelyn was still in her nightgown and Joanna had on no make-up, glasses instead of contacts, and had just gotten dressed). She planned on a low-key, comfortable day at home.
Instead, she held her baby's body, which she described as lifeless, while paramedics worked on her. Instead she spent her day in an ambulance and then an Emergency Room. Instead she heard words like "mores tests" and "maybe epilepsy." Instead she fell apart when I walked in the ER after having held it all together alone, all day.
It's not comfortable.
But there were hidden blessings in our day. Our unexpected day together had tears, certainly, but also joy.
I rarely get to spend time with Jadelyn without my own kids needing my attention too. Yesterday I spent hours with her--in the ER, In N Out, and at her house. She sat on my lap at lunch (and consumed 3/4 of a double double--no joke!) and smiled at me. She brought me books and sat with me to read. She played peek-a-boo with the little blankie I brought to the hospital. I handed her pennies and she put them into her piggy bank. We tried hats on, we snuggled while she drank her milk, and we laughed. And we laughed.
I don't want Jadelyn to have Epilepsy, or any condition that causes seizures. I don't, I don't, I don't.
It's just not comfortable.
But I don't get to pick. So I can seek comfort, or I can see reality and go forth. The problem with seeking comfort is that reality always comes around.
The problem with insisting upon schedules is that they can keep us from seeing what really needs to be done--loving someone, caring for someone, laughing with someone.
The problem with stocking bank accounts is the stock market crashes. And money won't cure a sick person, or bring back someone I love. So if I spend all my time building up my bank account, I will lack the true support I need when reality comes in--relationships.
The problem with building fences is they keep my neighbors out, and it's easy to become so comfortable in my divided space I ignore the people right next door.
The problem with expecting my kids to always be healthy is that when they aren't it's shocking, and crushing.
The beauty of crashed fences, depleted bank accounts, thrown off schedules and sick children, is we pause long enough to see God work.
We get to know our neighbors, we get to see the generosity of people and the intervention of God, we get to focus on what actually matters, and we get to laugh in In N Out.
I don't want Jadelyn to have seizures. But I am not in control. Therefore, I will pray for growth in our faith, for her tender little body, for wisdom for the doctors, and for moments like playing peek-a-boo in line to get anti-seizure medication. I can't take away problems, not for her, for me, or for anyone, but I can choose to respond in a loving, caring, godly way, and to cherish whatever God gives.