What did I do? I kept postponing. An hour. 10 minutes. Another 10 minutes. Finally, I realized, I was thirsty, exhausted, hungry, and had to go potty. I was beginning to feel what I have termed with my Lyme ‘episodes’ a “crash” coming on. I finally hit “Restart Now” for the computer. Then for myself. I went potty, got a drink of ice water, got some lunch and went to sit with a devotional and a prayer book, planning my next move to be a nap, which was brief, but thankfully the discipline of napping still paid off. No crash.
And in the devotions what words did I notice? “Quiet.” (which is in every day’s reading, but I hardly noticed until now). “Be still.” A passage in Exodus that seems like an old-hat children’s story (the same story my kids and I are reading at bedtime in our Action Bible comic-strip version) said God led the people NOT through a land they’d have to fight to go through, but on the long desert road instead. They were dressed for battle. But they had to go the desert road. I thought -that’s me. I’m always dressed for battle and think I can fight my way through to my victory, my promised inheritance (my healing from Lyme? my to do list getting done?). But what I’m on is the desert road. And I will grumble, get hot, tired, thirsty and sick of going. But God knows that if I fought through with all my might right at the start of the journey, I’d never make it to the end. I know it now too, because I’ve done it. I’ve hit “Postpone” and kept working, striving, pushing, fighting. Just for a little longer. Just another few minutes, hours, days, months, years. Then I crashed. (And we’re surprised and mad when our computers do it….)
I need to walk the long road. And in it, I need to choose “Restart Now.” Be still. Quiet.
Defining “crash”: Lyme disease may be the physical reason for my nervous system becoming too overloaded, sending my head spinning with vertigo and racing thoughts while I slump into extreme tiredness, perhaps even to the point that my muscles start twitching like a seizure, my chest gets sore and heavy, my joints ache and my guts hurt all over.
And no, that’s not ‘right’ or ‘good’ or even ‘a lesson’ or a punishment or a test. (Another blog post can discuss my views on the “why” of getting sick.) But the crashing has allowed me to see what God saw from the start of my journey, my exodus: that if I try to fight my way there, my body will not hold up. I need to listen when I get the pop-up message to “Restart Now.” So I’m going to take the 15 minutes I have right now to go lay down, because I can feel it all again today. (Insert power-down noise here).