It Is Well
It’s Sunday morning and I’m one of just a handful of people sitting in church. It’s weird. I don’t like it. I miss people. I miss Rachel claiming her carpet square for worship. I miss Syreeta herding kids upstairs. I miss the kids from youth talking in the back corner after service. I miss watching Vanessa dance at the altar and I miss trying to beat Tequila out of the building, so we don’t have to lock up. I miss normal.
I sit, missing normal, listening to Pastor Eb describe in great detail the disturbing times we live in. My mind is racing. My thoughts are on my babies. Our youngest, Melina was born with defects and requires a bit more care. We can’t just pick her up and go. I need to pack a bag. I need formula and water for a least a few days. I need her emergency g-tube replacement. I need her medications and her reflux meds need to be refrigerated so I need an ice pack. Is it sensible to take up room in the truck with the double stroller? Should I just bring the baby carrier? To where are we even running? She throws up a lot so she needs a lot of outfits and burp rags and blankets and bibs and on and on and on. I’m freaking out. I don’t like uncertainty. I like when things work. I don’t want to know how or why; I just want them to work.
Then, not in a still small voice, but in the voice of a parent, I hear, “Calm down. You know I’m not surprised by this.” Well…duh.
My life is framed by faith. The babies I describe are only here by faith. Yet at the slightest inconvenience, I completely forget where I come from. I wilt like a sad dandelion. How many internal melt downs is it going to take for me to get it? Psalm 46:10 says, “Be still, and know…”, but that’s the problem. I do know. I’ve always known, yet here I am. I’m questioning The One who has never left me, who always pays my bills, who always fills my gas tank. He’s given me a nice, cushy life. I was raised in church and Christian school, so growing up I was surrounded by inspiration and examples of faith. It certainly helped. So why am I letting my ancestors down? Mind you, this is all happening in about ten seconds.
That “calm down” was all I needed. He’s got this. I know a lot of people welcome the end times, but honestly, I don’t. It doesn’t mean I don’t look forward to eternity, but it’s the uncertainty. It makes me nervous. If you see me as weak, that’s ok, I’m just human. If you are enjoying this, I’m a little jealous. Again, I just want normal.
The great Jenn Johnson sings, “It Is Well”, which has become my anthem. This is the song The Lord drops in my spirit every time there is a challenge and every time I feel uneasy. And it is well. He knew this was coming and He knew I would freak out. He knew exactly what Melina would need. He knew and He was not surprised.
“So let go, my soul, and trust in Him. The waves and wind still know his name.”
Guest Post Written by Bianca Johnson
- Date - May 1, 2020
- Author - Candace Read