A Magic Fix-It Button

There comes a time in the school year for all of us (and I’m pretty sure it’s not just the homeschool moms) when if we had a magic fix-it button to stop the constant onslaught of germs and war wounds, we would be pressing it with every ounce of strength in our bodies. Frankly, some of us would be jumping up and down on it. Others of us might just resort to duck tape and a stack of heavy books.

Because if it’s not diarrhea, it’s a sore throat. If it’s not a sore throat, it’s an upset stomach. If it’s not an upset stomach, it’s a broken finger. If it’s not a broken finger, it’s a sprained ankle. If it’s not a sprained ankle, it’s pink eye—no wait, that one wasn’t actually my kid—so if it’s not a sprained ankle, it’s my knee twinging or my back going out or an unfortunate dependence on a heating pad. If it’s none of that, someone has a dripping nose or a ticklish cough or a suspicious looking rash or a fever (low grade or otherwise).

And the point is: WHERE IS THE BUTTON?! We want the button! (I’m imagining streets overflowing with chanting, marching women, waving banners and shouting—we want the button! we want the button!)

But there is no button.

Instead: there is the chance to slow down in what seems like major inconvenience.

It’s inconvenient because, along with whatever malady our precious heathens bring home, there is a side of changed plans and adjusted schedules.

You’re teaching at co-op this week? Not any more. You were taking someone a meal? Looks like you’re sending pizza. You had seventeen errands to run? Make that a big fat zero (and a lot of unchecked boxes in your bullet journal).

Suddenly, our hyper-productive lives come to a screeching halt.

Instead of doing all the things define us, that give us our sense of worth, that help us keep all our balls in the air at all times, we find ourselves stuck on the couch with a slightly sweaty child taking up permanent residence in our laps.

We’re forced to slow down…and in those moments we have the opportunity to realize a few things.

The first is this: the world goes on. We are not irreplaceable, and we are not God. While initially this may feel like a punch in the gut, at the end of the day, what it really is is an invitation to take a deep breath and then blow it right back out again, nice and slow. The world goes on. We are not God. What incredible freedom!

The second is this: we are not defined by what we do. Our children want us when they are sick because they love us. Not because we force medicine down their ungrateful throats (though they should want us for that—they just have no sense of self preservation). Not because we take them to see the doctor. Not because we are capable of magically healing them (where is the button!). But because they are ours and we are theirs and that is enough. When we’re no longer doing all the things and all the balls have hit the floor, we are still beloved. Another incredible realization.

The third is this: slow is not necessarily bad. All the To Do lists and errands and obligations will still be there when we get back to them, and while they may feel like they’re coming at us fast (bouncy balls in a blender style), inevitably someone else in the family will come down with something else just when we think we’re going to crack under the strain—and we will find slow again back in the sick room (or on the aforementioned couch with the aforementioned slightly sweaty offspring). The incredible thing is this: there is slow, and there is speedy, and they are both important in their season—but they are just that: seasons. This too shall pass.

So, yes. We wish for a magic fix-it button. And we wish for it for many more areas than just our germ attracted, accident prone children. We wish we could press the button for hurting hearts and tough conversations and broken families (and cities and nations).

And the thing that gets us sometimes is that we serve a magic button kind of God—a God who is sovereign and powerful, who says that there’s nothing impossible for him, who exists as an enfleshed miracle, who could stop the stream of sickness (and anything else!) without even batting a sanctified eyelash.

But God says that He has something better for us than the magic fix-it button. And the questions I’m left with are these:

do I trust that He knows better than me?

do I trust that when He says He’ll work all things for the good of those who love Him that He means it and that He’s capable of keeping His promises?

do I trust that He is God so I don’t have to be?

that I am worth more than my work?

that slow is a season that doesn’t have to be bad?

Do I trust?

Because if I do…then I can wait on that magic fix-it button at least for a little while longer.