When You Hit the Wall // A Humbling

It's been some time now that I've been aware of the need for us to slow down. Life can only go at breakneck speed for so long before something runs off the tracks. But with four small children, a busy work/home schedule, church involvement and extra-curricular commitments, the inevitable was bound to happen at some point I suppose.

And this weekend, the brakes were drawn to a grinding halt.



Last week, Elias succumbed to chicken pox. I'd been, in some small measure, hopeful of their arrival this winter. After years of avoiding it for Heidi's sake, with her now off medication, I was keen for her to get it before she got too old. And to be brutally honest, I welcomed the break that chicken pox would bring. The necessity to hibernate at home with my little people and shut ourselves away for a little while... life had got a little too crazy and I wasn't quite sure where the off switch was...

And then Saturday happened. When your husband is the one ending up in a hospital bed, doped to the nines on morphine, you realise that somewhere along the line perspective and priorities have got skewed. That things have got out of whack, and that life is not meant to be lived in fire-fighter mode.

We are so grateful to God that he is recovering well, but trying to learn lessons. Slowing down. Listening to our bodies. Recognising our fragility and weakness... being humble enough to recognise our own limitations. Our bodies are wonderful gifts, and God has wired them to tell us when things get too much.

This weekend we got the memo.

And so I'm thankful for Advent... for chicken pox... for scary hospital trips... because each, in turn, force us to do what Dave and I seem to find so impossible to do. To say no. To stop. To dwell. And be. And savour this slow and sacred season together.

Will you join me in slowing down this advent? In spending time at the Saviour's feet. In being thankful for what matters and savouring the heart of Christmas?

38 As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. 39 She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said.40 But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!”

41 “Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, 42 but few things are needed—or indeed only one.[a]Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”

Luke 10:38-42