I Had Plans
The Oh Hellos are one of my favorite bands. I love their sound, their lyrics, and can sing along to all of their songs.
I was actually supposed to be leaving for their concert in Chicago right now, but instead I am at home getting ready to take a long, hot detox bath. I've been pushing fluids through my body all day, but nothing is taking this headache and general "bleh" away.
The fever started last night, which meant that I hardly slept and missed out on a game night. This keeps happening. I make plans, the excitement at doing something fun builds, and then I come down with the flu, or a fever, and I have to make the call to let someone know that I am housebound once again.
Making plans quickly turns into "I had plans, but now the plan is to rest until I feel better." It's frustrating. I can't remember the last time I went a few weeks without feeling sick or lacking in energy. I suppose this is an improvement, though. It used be that I couldn't go a few days without feeling that way.
I told a friend the other day that this is the most unplanned season of my life. Even though a lot of things in my life haven't turned out the way I planned for them to, at least I was able to make plans and often stick to them. There was an element of control to my life. Now, though, I don't want to make plans. I don't want to let anyone down, or feel disappointed when I have to stay home again. I had plans a long time ago, but they have been eclipsed by this other plan: rest until you feel better.
It's hard not to feel like I am allowing Lyme to define me. In a lot of ways it does. My diet is defined by Lyme, and my taste buds are changing. I rarely want sugar anymore, and the thought of drinking real milk actually makes me nauseous. My idea of relationships has been affected. When people talk about how much they love someone, all I can think about is, "Would your love survive Lyme, though?"
People ask me what I'm planning on doing in the next couple of years, and I literally don't have a plan other than getting better. I had plans, really great ones that promised me a lot of fulfillment and joy. Believing in my plan made me feel strong, capable, and even hopeful.
I keep returning to that passage in Matthew 6 where Jesus says, "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?"
I had plans, and I liked them a lot. Particularly the plan where I went to hear The Oh Hellos. For now, though, I am trying not to worry about my general lack of planning or control.
I am trying not to plan.
I was actually supposed to be leaving for their concert in Chicago right now, but instead I am at home getting ready to take a long, hot detox bath. I've been pushing fluids through my body all day, but nothing is taking this headache and general "bleh" away.
The fever started last night, which meant that I hardly slept and missed out on a game night. This keeps happening. I make plans, the excitement at doing something fun builds, and then I come down with the flu, or a fever, and I have to make the call to let someone know that I am housebound once again.
Making plans quickly turns into "I had plans, but now the plan is to rest until I feel better." It's frustrating. I can't remember the last time I went a few weeks without feeling sick or lacking in energy. I suppose this is an improvement, though. It used be that I couldn't go a few days without feeling that way.
I told a friend the other day that this is the most unplanned season of my life. Even though a lot of things in my life haven't turned out the way I planned for them to, at least I was able to make plans and often stick to them. There was an element of control to my life. Now, though, I don't want to make plans. I don't want to let anyone down, or feel disappointed when I have to stay home again. I had plans a long time ago, but they have been eclipsed by this other plan: rest until you feel better.
It's hard not to feel like I am allowing Lyme to define me. In a lot of ways it does. My diet is defined by Lyme, and my taste buds are changing. I rarely want sugar anymore, and the thought of drinking real milk actually makes me nauseous. My idea of relationships has been affected. When people talk about how much they love someone, all I can think about is, "Would your love survive Lyme, though?"
People ask me what I'm planning on doing in the next couple of years, and I literally don't have a plan other than getting better. I had plans, really great ones that promised me a lot of fulfillment and joy. Believing in my plan made me feel strong, capable, and even hopeful.
I keep returning to that passage in Matthew 6 where Jesus says, "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?"
I had plans, and I liked them a lot. Particularly the plan where I went to hear The Oh Hellos. For now, though, I am trying not to worry about my general lack of planning or control.
I am trying not to plan.
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