Too Comfortable
Life in masks and isolation has gotten palatable over the last couple months. Our limited routines suddenly feel normal. We get to see close family in careful circles and soccer seasons once again fill our weekends with activity. The irritation I had with being stuck at home is subsiding because our bubble is opening up, but strict restrictions are still in place to keep germs at bay.
A few weeks ago I woke up feeling like my head would explode. I had a headache that started like a jolt at the top of my head, spread down my neck and landed at the bottom of my throat in a cascade of what felt like needle pricks. Deep down I knew what was happening. I knew I would go from having a scratchy throat and end up in snot city. I had a cold. There was no turning back from it and no amount of vitamin C could make me healthy again. I began to panic at the realization that I would have to suffer in a way I hadn’t in eight months. In my family of five not being sick for almost a whole year is a feat that hasn’t been accomplished since my husband and I got married sixteen years ago. It took me few solid hours to come to grips with the impending illness that was careening towards me. I did not expect to feel rocked by something so common, especially the common cold. Had being isolated hurt the progress I’d made over the years? How is our recent mandated isolation hurting people who have never dealt with fear of germs before now? Why was God allowing my sudden discomfort? Why was He allowing a nasty germ back in my life when we were diligently following all the rules?
As my sickness moved through the stages of discomfort I realized that in my isolation I was resting in my own comfort and control. Sure, there were difficult aspects of being stuck at home all the time, but I was accustomed to them. My mind trusted the germ circle of trust; I believed isolation would keep me and my family from being inconvenienced with illness. Life with young kids comes with germ exposure, there is no escaping that. As someone with OCD, learning to live that reality was one of the best treatments for my mental health. I was forced to cope with barf, fevers, snot, and coughs. Not only did I have to learn to tolerate them, but I was in charge of caring for the sick, taking the mental challenge to an intense level. Since Covid-19 came on the scene I haven’t had to challenge my mind in the same hard, but helpful ways. I was way too comfortable.
God knew I needed to face germs again. He knew I was feeling mighty and in control of my circumstances. I was on a germaphobe’s high horse, justified by a society that was backing my desire to be in charge. As I cared for my daughters who also came down with it, I experienced God’s comfort trekking through the illness haze. I even got bronchitis and had to deal that as well, but still I felt God with me.
Much to my surprise, life went on, even with a germ. The new procedures we have in place societally to keep us all safe are not for forever. I needed to remember the life giving benefits that come from being around other people and the germs they produce. I don’t look forward to future flu seasons and barf germs but knowing that God will be with me through all of them is truth I need to be reminded of now.
I am not as in charge as I would like to be. Satan is having a field day as the world operates in more isolation with so many recommended restrictions and procedures. As necessary as those are, God is still working. He’s still in charge. He’s still God. I cannot keep putting my hope in the comforts of living more germ free. I don’t want to put my hope in the ease of having kids who don’t suffer from cold and flu germs. I feel like a broken record, but the reality of getting too comfortable in this new normal is real. I need to be repeatedly reminded that nothing I do or don’t do eliminates God’s sovereignty. Period.
