Kept

“The Lord is your keeper. The Lord is the shade at your right hand.  The Lord will keep you from all evil; he will keep your life.  He will keep your going out and your coming in from this time on and forevermore.”  Psalm 121: 5, 7-8  NRSV

When I wake up in the morning, I need to lay in bed for a few minutes and gather my thoughts.  I can’t blame this on illness…I’ve always been a slow riser.  I think it comes from having once been a night owl.  Then, being married to a morning person, and having at least one child that’s a morning person…I had to acclimate quickly.  But that doesn’t make me a morning person J   (Actually, right now, I’m not a night owl either…I’m more of a 1:30-2 in the afternooon person!)

In those first few minutes of laying quietly in bed while slowly waking…everything seems possible at that time.  As I start to re-enter the waking world, I think about what I want to do with this day, what I need to do with this day…what others need me to do on this day—and it all seems possible.  My life seems to be in my own hands at that moment. 

And then I move…

I often know immediately what kind of day I’m going to have as soon as I start to move and get out of bed.  The lightheadedness and aching will either be a companion that day, or it will not.  The fatigue and exhaustion will either make themselves known immediately… or I will be aware of their absence.  Either way, as soon as I begin to move, I am aware that my life is not fully in my control. 

Most days for the past half-dozen months, as soon as I move,  the possibilities I’d laid out in my mind moments before suddenly have to be adapted.  When will I be able to take care of that errand?  At what point do I have to start getting ready so I can make that appointment? What will I have to cut from my day so I can have the energy for the few things I want and need to do?  And even some days:  What  do I need to cancel and reschedule, because I am not able to leave the house today?

In that moment between laying there quietly thinking and getting up to function, I become acutely aware that I am not always in charge of my “going outs” and my “coming ins”.  In the past I wouldn’t have even thought twice about this. Oh, I still would have grumbled about morning on the way to the shower—I am a recovering night owl, you know J-- but I really believed that all that I had planned in that day lay in my hands.

One of the rather surprising gifts in my experience with long term illness has become the daily reminders that my life is not in my hands.  Now, clearly, I have responsibility and choices for how I face each day—but ultimately, the gift of each day is not mine to give…only receive.

And so is the gift of a life that is not fully in my control.  The words of the Psalmist are a huge relief to me on the days when, in those first moments of movement I realize my plans for the day are going to be different than I envisioned.  “The Lord will keep your life. He will keep your going out and your coming in from this time on and evermore.”  

Whether I am aware of it or not, my life rests in the gentle, loving hands of the One who created, redeemed and who still sustains me. Whether I can move easily, or am in pain; whether I am clear-headed or foggy and lightheaded; whether I am rested or fatigued, God keeps my life. 

Knowing that…can help even a night owl get out of bed in the morning.

Keeper of my life, thank you for your gentle care, even when I’m not aware of it. This day, remind me that you are ever-present and will hold me in your care, no matter what the day brings. Amen.