So the boring background bit is that I
started to get sick a couple of months ago. But just like the good girl I am, born and raised in the
deep South of Steel Magnolias and Gone with the Wind, I put on my ivory
concealer a little thicker each day under my eyes, upped the blusher, and
curled my hair a little more than usual to convince probably only myself that I
really was pushing through. This is just what WE women do. (rolls eyes)
I kept up my usual schedule but took some
slow days of doing emails and phone calls in my PJs to see if that would do the
trick. After a month of “pushing
through” and a couple of ill-timed dizzy spells, my cover was busted and I had
to have those heart sinking conversations with my work colleagues and boss that
used phrases like “you need to take some time off.”
So here I am now after having been off work
for a month, and I’ve been actually full-blown sick for real. (Note to dear reader: Don’t worry. This is going
somewhere. I promise I won’t waste
your time telling you the fine details of my boring illness. This is about what
happened in the middle of it all.)
Although I’d been “pushing through” for
weeks, just after I formally took sick leave from work, whatever was going on
with my health took a dive for the worse and all at once, there was no longer
the option of “pushing through.” Try as I might, I could only be in the bed
or on the sofa. Even talking for
longer than a minute or two winded me. The time didn’t go slow. It went like lightning because I spent
most of the day in and out of sleep or battling with pain. It felt like the days flew through a
mist of sleep and pain, and overhearing kind people dropping off flowers and
meals at the door. Visitors
weren’t an option because I just couldn’t do conversations.
And suddenly, two weeks had gone by.
This was a low point because up until then
I have to say I wasn’t sad or low.
I was literally just in that “Survival Mode” that people who have been
that kind of sick understand. It’s
all just… happening and you just have to get through it, somehow.
But you see, I had arranged to be away from
work for two weeks. It was all in
order. I had painstakingly prepared for me to be away for that amount of time
and in my desire to be in control of things, I had also argued to myself that
my family would be ok for me to be down for about that amount of time, but no
more. I wouldn’t frighten my
sensitive teenage daughter into thinking anything was seriously wrong with me
and my husband and son would be ok in the chivalry of taking care of me for
about that long.
I had it all figured out.
And then, the pain was getting worse, not
better. The diagnosis was still elusive and worst of all… I just plain felt
sick and unwell everyday… so much so that my hopes of using this time off work
to have time with God, read some books, write some songs, catch up on our
family admin or even (get this) do
some scrapbooking had to go out the window. Yes, I realise my “crazy” is becoming more obvious by the
minute here.
You see I had been getting well meaning
texts and messages from dear friends and loved ones saying things like: “praying this time off will refresh
you,” “hope you get some special
time with God during this time,” etc…
It was as if everyone was hoping, like me, that somehow this sick leave
would actually turn into a pseudo-holiday or some form of personal
retreat. And what I realised at
the end of that two weeks of looking NOTHING like retreat and instead like survival was that I was going to have to
adjust my expectations… greatly.
And so it’s been another two weeks now that
have also flown by so fast I can hardly believe it’s really been that
long. Dotted with feeling
intermittently better and then right back with my head on the pillow worse than
I was before, this has been a frustrating time of feeling like I am NOT
winning. And the complaint I have
made over and over again (to the kind patience of my adoring husband I am sure…
need I say he deserves a proper trophy after going through this with me) is
that “I could handle the pain if I would just stop feeling so bad,” “I can’t think…my mind is cloudy, etc.” This has been the part that I haven’t
handled well at all: Losing the ability
to engage with the world and access the usual flow of my mind and
thoughts. It’s been like thinking
through molasses.
Now you may ask yourself… WHY are you
telling us all this?
It’s because today I woke up feeling
good. I woke up thinking thoughts
again. Yep some pain is still
there, but I finally feel better and all at once it’s like a key to a door I
was trying to open has been pressed into my hands. And as I’ve opened the door, here are the thoughts that have
been forming and waiting on me to be articulate to say:
For me and everyone with a busy mind and a
big heart out there who is living in a world of plenty, who enjoys coffees out
with friends, buys healthy groceries for the family, who drives the kids to
their music lessons, enjoys friendship and fun, or to all of us who love our
work, our passions, our achievements… I’m talking about all of us who live a
life that is not in Survival Mode:
We must not forget that we are given the gifts of all of this for a
reason.
I love the translation of Luke 12:48 in The
Message:
Great gifts mean great responsibilities; greater gifts, greater responsibilities!
As my plans were turned on their head over
this past month and as I had no choice but to be ok with my head on the pillow,
I realised I was in a season when my “sword” was at my side. It wasn’t my season for battle, for
ministry, for reaching out, for changing the world. It would have been impossible for me to battle. I just
couldn’t.
And today, when my head cleared and I felt like
myself and my usual thoughts began to return, as that door opened, I began to
think of all of the people in Survival Mode.
It started first for me with thoughts of
Africa because the whole continent is so often on my mind. And I suddenly understood with so much
deeper revelation why we (with ALL that we have) are postured to bring HOPE and
LIFE there. It’s not because they
are incapable of helping themselves.
It’s not because our sisters and brothers there don’t have the capacity
to transform their communities or their continent. It’s because when all that most of them can bring themselves
to think about is keeping their children alive, avoiding being raped, wondering
if they are still HIV negative and finding enough water to stay hydrated much
less wondering if that water is contaminated enough to kill, it’s hard to
imagine having the emotional or mental clarity or passion to battle for the
bigger picture of community or continent.
What’s necessary for most Africans and (two/thirds of the world!) is
Survival Mode… just being sure you and your family stay alive and well.
Anything beyond Survival Mode is a
luxury.
But for those of us who are living most of
our lives with our heads off the pillow, with our minds clear, our hearts open
to hear God’s voice and with the capacity to battle the injustices of the world
(WHATEVER injustice God puts on your heart) our calling is to reach out to
those who are stuck in the cycles of merely surviving: whether that’s from
poverty, abuse, grief, addiction… whatever is keeping them from hope and life.
Today, I read that in our town there was a
shooting in a local estate. I bet that tonight right in my own town, there will
be families gripped with fear, mothers who wonder if their children will ever
live a better life, fathers who feel trapped in debt and shamed because there
isn’t enough food for dinner, people with truly serious and terminal illnesses, men who live in despair and women caught in the grip of self-hate and all
the horrible ways that works itself out in their lives... this list could go on and on.
We don’t have to look to Africa to see our
own neighbours who aren’t really living but instead just surviving. Survival Mode means you can’t fight… you
need others to fight for you.
And Survival Mode is NOT refreshing. It means that every waking hour is
filled with only what it will take to get by. This doesn’t leave time for dreaming, or for personal and
spiritual growth or for doing the kinds of things that bring us life and makes
us want to give life away.
Survival Mode means merely surviving, each
day running into the next fearing what the next day may bring or being so
overwhelmed with the events of the present that the future loses its
importance.
During this past month, in my contextually very mild circumstance, my husband has
had to drive for me, cook for me, make cups of tea for me and take care of our children. I needed to be taken care of and I had
so much support from my friends and my family. I will truly always be grateful.
But I am the exception… not the rule.
The point is, my sword has been at my side
this month because it had to be.
But trust me, as soon as I am fit and ready, my sword will be held high
again.
For my friends and family, yes of course.
But my sword and everyone’s sword (because
we are ALL the children of the Living God, daughters and sons of the Father of
Light) was made to fight in the battle of darkness against light.
I serve a Saviour who came to us to do this
kind of stuff and model how we can do it too:
Luke 1:79
to shine on those living in darkness and in the shadow of death,to guide our feet into the path of peace.
Isaiah 61: 1-3
1 The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor.He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners,2 to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God,to comfort all who mourn,3 and provide for those who grieve in Zion—to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes,the oil of joy instead of mourning,and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor.
And so, if this past month of living
in Survival Mode has yielded any good in my life, may it be that I remember who
I am called to reach out to and why they are waiting for me, with their head on
the pillow, to find my sword and fight for them.
I expect I won’t have to repeat this
month of ill health any time soon.
I expect my life to resume its usual activities. But I hope this past month won’t have
been for nothing. I can only hope
that in some way it has made me better and has made me see that a period of
Survival Mode is not all bad. For
now what I can see is that it has the benefits of making it clear just how much
we need a Saviour to save us and how much we need each other to truly
live.
And that it’s ok and even inevitable
for most of us for a season.
But for those who face a lifetime of
living in Survival Mode, may God’s mercy compel us to step out of our comfort
to show them His love… any way we can.
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