I thrive on routine. I need to be busy to stay motivated. I get energy from keeping a full schedule and serving others {especially my husband}. The busier I am the better I seem to do.
Eight weeks ago yesterday all that was removed from my life.
Yesterday morning was the first morning I woke-up at the same time as my husband and when I heard the cord of the iron being plugged into the wall I realized I had forgotten to iron his favorite pants. It might seem silly, but I really wanted to iron his pants for him. It has been weeks of not doing anything for anyone else, let alone him, and this was a small thing I could do. I rolled out of bed {because at nine months pregnant you really can only roll} and found him, hugged him and asked if I could iron his pants. He of course was happy to let me do it as it meant he could get ready faster and therefore be at work earlier.
I ironed his pants and made him coffee. And it was wonderful. I mean seriously wonderful. For the first time in eight weeks I felt normal. I was a wife again. I love being Mr. Z’s Mrs. God made this role for me.
When I was first put on bed rest I thought I would take advantage of this time and blog away {among other things}. Simply write and write and write. But if you’ve visited this space with any sort of frequency you know that’s not the case. I manage to bang out the weekly pregnancy milestone entries, but other than that there isn’t really any consistency. There are a variety of reasons for that from not being able to get into a comfortable enough position to even want to attempt to type to frankly, being in a mood where it is simply better to keep my thoughts between me and God. To state the obvious, these last eight weeks have been less than productive.
At the recommendation of a friend I listened to a sermon by Holy Furtik. It is appropriately titled:
“If I have to wait, I’m gonna get to work”
It’s a part of Elevation Church’s newest series, The Waiting Room. Ridiculously appropriate for me huh? {And I’m sure many of you out there as well.} I wish I could say I turned this eight-week waiting room into a workroom, but frankly that’s just not the case. I know none of this time will be wasted as God promises He uses everything for His purposes, but as I listened to this sermon today I knew in my heart there are some serious lessons I need to take into this next season of life.
The phrase “change the waiting room into a work room” was weaved throughout the sermon. And while I don’t feel that’s exactly what I have done these past eight weeks, it is something I must consider in the future and for the remainder of this time.
We are all works in progress and Lord knows this work {pointing at myself} will be in progress until the day I meet my Messiah. Ruth Bell Graham, Billy Graham’s wife, used to say that when she died she wanted her headstone to read:
“End of construction. Thank you for your patience.”
How appropriate.
God’s mercies are new every morning and He has never expected us to be perfect, but He does desire us to be teachable and humbly submitted to Him. After all, we are flawed human beings purposed to bring Him glory. Only He is perfect. But He wants us to seek Him, know Him and allow Him to make us more like Jesus.
So as I near Baby Z’s due date and wait on this little one I’m reflecting on the season where life was put on pause, looking for what God was trying to teach, how He was trying to use me and seeking to be better at it in the future.
Holly brought up three ways to turn your waiting room into a workroom:
I’ll be looking at these questions in light of this season, pondering where I may have put them into play and where I could’ve done better. Hoping to learn for the next time I find myself in a place of pause.
Perhaps this is something you’ve dealt with to? Wondering when life will move on—beyond the current situation you find yourself in?
You might be interested in the sermon too :-)
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