Humbled by Handicap
a reckoning with a desire for control
Apparently Helene is coming. The rain has arrived with a steady calming trickle. It is like a sound machine recording, but its so much better. It is accompanied by real-life precipitation from the sky. The earth is smelling earthy, appreciative of the nourishing moisture. The heat of the ground is steaming in contact with the wetness. I am trying to enjoy the peaceful offering from the Heavens, but I’m distracted by warnings from Alexa. “Tornado watch for your area”, “Tropical Cyclone Statement has been extended”, “Tropical Storm warning”.
My living room is very lived in at the moment. Dirty dishes and glasses are strewn. My popcorn salt from last night is still next to the couch. The blankets are crumpled and pillows squashed. The kitchen peeks through with grimy counters and stacked recycling. I haven’t made the bed yet, and my cat, Gracie, has walked her litter from one corner of the house to the other. The scenery ought to remind me of the cuddle puddle enjoyed the night before, where husband, wife, and their floofy animals sat together to watch WandaVision. I ought to remember the kindness of my husband, Cagney, who patiently made me popcorn and fetched my water bottle without me asking. Shouldn’t the sight of my dog, Birdie, snuggling into the mess make my heart glad?
Instead I am feeling the huge bowl of fluffy salty popcorn I ate last night sitting like a rock in the bottom of my stomach. I’m frustrated because I can’t exercise it away. I could maybe tackle the living room mess, but with my trusty scooter and booted foot it would take me hours, not to mention how sweaty I would be after it was all said and done.
By the grace of God, its never completely “done”. Even if I spent my whole day organizing the clutter, we will still sleep in our bed and have to remake it tomorrow. More cuddles will be had tonight, which means more squashed pillows and dirty dishes laying about. I’ll probably have laundry to do tomorrow too, and as a matter of fact its probably time to clean the bathroom. These things are evidence of living, and of the many blessings the Lord has given my family. But my mind is distracted.
Due to foot surgery on the left foot and then the right foot this year, I’ve been captured by this house. I spend my days either sitting on my threadbare couch, or doing 50-point-turns with my knee scooter to get around. I am reliant on others. I have to trust Cagney with tasks I would normally just do without him even noticing. It takes me forever to bathe. My plants are parched. It is an absolute battle to bring the laundry basket from the kitchen to the bedroom. Birdie is getting over-protective of me because we spend an unhealthy amount of time together. Healthy meals are hard to come by because we are choosing convenience in this season. My body has been changing and I’m not thrilled by it.
Apparently Helene is coming. Apparently I am broken and messy. I’m distracted by notifications from Alexa telling me there is danger. I’m distracted by notifications from the enemy telling me that I am worthless because of all that I do not have control over. But the rain is peaceful and nourishing. But I have been so cared for by Cagney, by family, my friends, and my dear church community. But I can clean the bathrooms. But I can sit and enjoy the rain amidst the mess. But God.
This extremely temporary handicap (let’s be real, its not that bad) has been forcing me to reckon with my desire to control. Everything around me seems to be begging to be organized, compartmentalized, and taken care of. But the physical handicap is a reminder of my human handicap. He is God and i am not. He brings dreary peaceful Thursday mornings that need nothing from me, and that I have absolutely no control over.
How are you feeling handicapped right now? What limitations are prohibiting you from controlling? What notifications are distracting your heart?
What blessings are peeking through your messes? What tangible actions can you take to silence the enemy?
Today, for me, I’ve asked Alexa to stop reminding me of the storm that is already here. I’m blasting worship music and singing out loud (Birdie does not know what to do with me). I’m resting with the rain for now and asking God to be present with me when the storm gets scary.
Dear friends, may our handicaps remind us of our great Father God. May we be forced to fall into His arms and allow Him to care for all of our worries and needs.
Jess Ray "Lilies & Sparrows" YouTube
Matthew 6: 25-34 ESV
“Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.”
Amen.