Normally, January is my favorite month of the year. Craig would argue it’s because my favorite child was born during this month. Then, Luke would pipe in to say, “Yeah, on the 26th!”
I like January. I like the newness of it all. Christmas and all the stress and chaos of creating the perfect holiday experience for my kids is over and done and I get a break from it for the next eleven months. I can stare at a blank canvas and imagine with wonder what masterpiece I’m going to create during this spin around the sun.
Then, I started the 21st year of the 21st century off by getting sick. I may or may not have had Covid. I didn’t actually get tested. That would have required getting dressed and leaving the house. However, I can tell you that I was achy and seriously fatigued and spent two full weeks napping, binge watching TV, and lounging around in my pajamas. It was wonderful!!
After two weeks, I made a full recovery and then I turned up the heat. I reflected at how much TV I did watch and I was kind of disgusted with myself. Girl, I thought, it is time to get your cute little tush in gear and get stuff done!
I started out by making my bed and tackling my room. It still appeared as if Christmas had thrown up in this sanctuary I call the Master Bedroom.
Then, I got dressed down to my shoes and did my hair and makeup. I was ready to conquer to the world, or at least, the kitchen.
I had the perfect plan in place. My day planner was organized and I was excited about all that I would accomplish.
And then God said, “Whoa…”
This week, in particular, has been quite rough. On Tuesday, as I was celebrating Luke’s 16th birthday and remembering the anniversary of my father’s passing, I learned of friend whose daughter was killed in a tragic accident. Then, I reached out to another friend to see how her husband’s cancer treatment was going only to learn they had just transitioned to hospice. On top of that, Megan’s job hours and pay were cut in half. And as I sat remembering how my best friend of 31 years died just six months ago, Ken called me to say his was on his way home and his own employment was just terminated.
Needless to say, my whole world went sideways…
Then, I woke up this morning and opened my “Word Among Us” app to read the Gospel for the day, Mark 4:35-41. The disciples and Jesus were crossing the sea on a boat and a “violent squall” came up and Jesus was in the corner, sleeping on a cushion! With what must have been lots of shouts and screaming, they wake Jesus up and he commands the wind-he, in fact, REBUKES the wind, and says to the sea, “Quiet! Be still!” Then, it was as if he was speaking to me as I read the words, “Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?”
I don’t know. Do I have faith? Do I trust in the Lord? There is a storm raging inside me. A storm of fear, uncertainty, anxiety. And then there is our Lord telling me to be quiet and be still. I know far more than the disciples. I know how the story ends. I know who wins. I know who is in charge. God’s plan is perfect. I don’t always like it, but I trust in it.
And so, I stop, I listen and I hear God speaking to me. Not quite like a burning bush kind of moment but He is telling me to be still. He’s got this. He has my friends. He has my daughter. He has my husband and his job and our family. God is in control.
This is going to be a fabulous year. We are entering a new chapter in our lives and I can’t wait to read the next page.
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