That time I got to spend 2 days in the hospital...

So I have had 3 babies. All delivered via C-section. Not my first choice, but it is what it is and life travels on. So, the only time I have been a patient in the hospital is snuggled with a newborn and a 6 inch belly incision. Let me just say, adjustable hospital beds?... the bomb dot com. Especially when you have a 6 inch incision and a newborn in one of those little clear bassinets. I swear that bassinet is "the man's" way of introducing you to the new ways in which you will contort your body to reach your baby. It starts with bassinets in hospitals, moves to the awkward angles you dare not move from, lest you wake the sleeping princess, and continues on to shoulder dislocation reaching into the back seat from the front in your minivan. It's a slippery slope people.

So, I was admitted last week and diagnosed with "bronchitis with asthma exacerbation." I have looked those words up and separately I understand them, but smoosh (yes, I said smoosh) them all together and I'm sort of at a loss. Apparently, I have asthma now? As a adult who has never had any kind of breathing issues....ever. That is a topic for another day because now that I have my laptop back and I'm not supposed to leave my bed, the research gene has been initiated and my keyboard is on FI-AH (that's "fire" for those who don't know my penchant for re-writing words.) I'm calling some environmental or food allergen out, but don't have enough evidence for a conviction yet.

So I have been laid up for 6 days now, either in the hospital or at home. Unable to walk around without coughing and doing nebulizer treatments, steroids and all manner of lovely drugs. On a side note, the boy-child absolutely loves to turn on the nebulizer machine for me. The smoke billowing out of the mask makes him almost as happy as a cookie....almost.

Last night, I missed celebrating Christmas with the hubs and kids and in laws at Camp Tejas - an apparently super cool Christmas spot near our home. Lights, Fireworks, Inflatables, fake snow and sledding. So I was bummed. And I texted a friend about my bummy-ness (see, more made up words).

Her response went a little something like this:

For now, this is your "new normal." It's like being impatient for your kids to speak and once they do they never stop. God has made you STOP for a bit. Rest in His goodness to you. Life will continue on the other end of all this. Press on precious one. 

So, of course, this got me to thinking about resting. God proclaims Sabbath rest as one of the 10 Commandments. So obviously it's important. I mean, He named it up there with don't murder. DON'T MURDER. DON'T STEAL. DON'T LIE....and REST.

Why does it seem so difficult that God could favor "the rest" over "the work?" Does anyone else struggle with this? In our society of drivenness and self-sufficiency, it seems so counterintuitive that He could align the need for rest with the need for not killing someone. Obviously, the consequences for those sins will be different on earth, point being, God sees rest as vitally important.

I feel like I so often embrace rest as a failure or as "less than" the work I have in front of me. We mamas tend to do that, don't we? The kids NEED us. We push past the pains of tired eyes and aching bodies and minds that are wearied to the bone in favor of folding that last pair of size 2Ts. Don't get me wrong, a strong work ethic and drive are essential for a successful and full life. But He calls our rest vital. How do we reconcile that?

How do I reconcile that for the last 6 days I have not played any games, poured any milk or changed any diapers (well, there was one...)? How do I reconcile that the lack of work is God's idea for me in these days? That His plan for me is to lay in bed. That somehow He can take this illness and make it glory? I don't have answers. I've read books, watched the Braverman's (oh bless the creators of Parenthood!), coughed 'til I'm sore, had migraines, slept and slathered myself with essential oils. And somehow, He will be able to use even this...even THIS... for His glory?

In my pride, I want His glory to be found in my selfless dedication to my children. In my pride, I want Him to shine through my singing or writing or effective disciplining of my children. I don't want Him to shine through the countless women bringing meals and caring for my kids. My American self-sufficient, sin-ridden, prideful self rises up against that. My sin nature bucks the sweet rest that this army of servants have afforded me in this hour of need.

If I'm honest, I want Him to be found glorious in the things I do for Him. Deep down, I don't know how to handle it when He chooses to find glory in how others serve me or in the times when I fall utterly feeble. I want Him to be found in my strength, not in my weakness.

And then, He speaks. Clear and quiet with a calm that rushes over my soul....

"My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."

Oh Lord, may I always be found to rest in Your perfect will and timing. That You alone know what is best for me and that You Lord receive glory from this life in whatever ways You choose.