Tip of My Iceberg

John and I’ve been waiting forever to get away alone.

The previous ten months have been a jumbled collection of too much travel, multitudes of appointments, a plethora of conversations that have filled both our lives. Busy has become a way of life.

Everyone’s busy these days. What we’ve done, however, is made life outside of us the priority.

That’s not a bad thing. There are many projects, people and plans that are time-sensitive that need to be dealt with quickly. Relational issues that must be addressed.

Both of us have a hard time saying no to anyone.

We’ve got a two-week break to relax in Santa Rosa, thanks to my sister loaning us the use of her condo. We weren’t going to overwhelm ourselves with crazy expectations of what we’d do. Time was to be our friend, enjoyed in the moment and not to be overly managed.

Do today. Don’t worry about tomorrow.

We’d spent two and a half days in southern California for John to go to meetings and for me to meet up with dear friends. Do some writing. Anticipate when we’d both be free.

While there, John began sneezing and coughing with passion. My thinking was just get the guy to Santa Rosa and a break from routine. He’ll feel better.

The day we arrived in Santa Rosa, I got whatever he had. (All of this thanks to our grands, who thoughtfully shared this with us before we left Orlando.)

Shneezles. Sneezing with accompanying chills. Makes me feel like I’m a walking contagion. I have fits of sneezing and coughing; when I forget to stick my face in my elbow (which wasn’t what I learned growing up), I get glances of reproach from those who don’t want to share the joys of whatever it is I have.

My body aches as if a person with a really big stick whacked me in my joints. Then returned to make sure the job had been done well.

We’re both pathetic. We’ve taken slow walks to get out in the sun, read, watched the World Cup.

Not the way I wanted it.

Really God? All this time I’ve wanted rest and relaxation, and You give me sickness and discomfort? I’ve wanted quality time with my husband, and we’re facing off across the couch, sharing a box of tissue. How fair is that?

I’ve anticipated this time for months and longed for the quiet, the solitude. Space to be. Opportunity to think and read and write.

I’ve gotten all that and then some.

Hadn’t expected it to look like this.

When I pursue God, choosing to deepen the relationship with Him, I often expect it to be on my terms. The way I see “the plan” working out.

He knows what I need. He’s provided for this time by not giving us a lot of options to pack our days with activities. I fill my time quite effectively.

God knows what I need better than I do.

I need Him. Time with the One who loves me best.

Even if it’s not the way I planned it.