“It was a time of change…”
Change always throws me for a loop, as though my security lies in things continuing the way they have for the last half year or so, as though I didn’t know that life includes many surprising twists and unexpected adventures.
This last adventure has me often lying on my bed or the couch in the languid state of a limp dishrag, saying to myself disconsolately, “Nursing school? Bangladesh? No, I don’t think my previous challenges were as hard as this… at least then I didn’t have to face everything through clouds of sickly green fog…” And I sigh and tell God that I don’t know how I’m going to get through the next day, or night, or hour. And then somehow, I do, and I am learning that in my weakest moments, God will meet me–sometimes in the shape of a helping hand, or my husband, or a small boy’s sweet smile–but He’s always faithful. I may no longer know just who I am, but He knows me, just like He’s always known.
The white and coral throw pillows I arranged so carefully for a full year of marriage are now as often as not face-down on my floor. Joining them is a mish-mash of toys and books and crumpled tissues. The dishes sometimes stack up in my sink for days… My flowers languish, dry and thirsty, while I sit inside reading stories to a little man with sharp elbows and big eyes. Even more strange? I don’t care much about these things that I once would have been so quick to put to rights.
Instead I thank God that I have the energy when I need it to care for our new little foster son. I thank Him that all-day morning sickness cannot last forever, and that it is for a good reason, for the cause of a new, special life… I am grateful God woke us up when the little boy struggled for each breath one night, and–exhaustion and nausea forgotten–we rushed him to the ER. I am thankful he is better, even though Ben and I both picked up the torch where he left it, hacking and sneezing in his place.
My heart aches at giving up my hospital job–relinquishing the badge that gives me entrance to the place where I learned how to be a nurse, and so much more… I am new to this pregnant woman, sick and exhausted, no longer a career girl, just a stand-in mommy and a very poor housewife.
“It was time of change… a red maple leaf held stubbornly, twisting and turning on its stem.
‘Let it happen,’ nudged the breeze.
And so it did, breaking away soundlessly, twisting and turning. The new season is here.”From First Snow in the Woods by Carl R. Sam’s II and Jean Stoick
My sister sent me that poem, with some dried leaves, soon after I moved to Bangladesh. I’ve thought of it many times since, in seasons of change… let it happen, Alison.
Or, as I heard somewhere recently, sometimes we spend so long staring at the closed doors that we never see the open ones waiting for us.
Seasons will change, and eventually, maybe autumn will come with crisp days and a breath of fresh air for those who dwell in green fog. Until then, His grace, as always, is sufficient.