Sometimes when people ask me how things are going, I’m not quite sure what they’re asking. Especially if they lean their head in a little bit and tilt it to one side and nod three times while they ask in a creepy-sensitive way, “So…how are things going?” Obviously the best thing for me to do is make a wild, all-encompassing assumption that they’re asking about the ongoing drama that is our family. You know, instead of looking like a total moron by asking a simple follow-up question.
To save us all some embarrassment (and to give me something to write about), I’ll answer that question for you here and now.
I think we’re doing okay. The last two and a half months have been stable. I kind of feel like there’s a possibility that we may be making incremental progress towards somewhat resembling a normal family. Ish. But even making such a bold proclamation as that makes me feel a little bit nauseous…like I’m invoking Murphy to swoop in and mess everything up with his law about making things go wrong. And I don’t even believe in Murphy!
Yes, things are okay right now. Permanently? I don’t know. It’s possible probable that life will get very difficult again at some point. But I don’t want to know about it.
Just like when my husband was over an hour late getting home from a meeting a few nights ago and I didn’t want to call his cell phone in case a paramedic answered. I didn’t want to know. In the meantime, I clung to my blissful ignorance and kept playing my Wii Wheel of Fortune game (which should be called “Wiil of Fortune” – why don’t people get my advice on these things beforehand?), cherishing it as possibly the last present my husband gave me before he died. I was able to focus and do what I needed to do in that moment – which was to win a $70,000 boat – because I didn’t actually know for sure that he was dead. And then he walked in the door and I was all, “Hey, how was your meeting?”
God knows I don’t want to know. If something awful is around the next bend, let me just not know about it until it hits me.
I usually like to know about the good stuff that’s coming, though. I am officially the world’s worst person to try to surprise. The only time I’ve ever been really and truly blown away by a sneaky, planned-out surprise was when I flew to New Brunswick to preach at my brother’s church (uh…I mean “be the guest speaker” because obviously a good Baptist girl such as myself would never sully a good Baptist pulpit by “preaching”) and my best friend, Shelby, drove up from Halifax to spend the weekend with me. Unfortunately, we stayed up all night talking instead of reviewing my “speaking” notes, so I was ill-prepared on Sunday morning and did a horrendous job, thereby completely cementing the idea that women don’t belong in a Baptist pulpit. And my point was…oh, right! It was an honest-to-goodness, jaw-dropping, cartoon-like double-take surprise and I was okay with that. I could get used to having fabulous surprises that I don’t actually know about ahead of time.
So maybe God has something great coming. Or maybe there’s more hard stuff. But guess what – I’m learning to trust that even the hard stuff has greatness in it because God is in it and He is great. I just don’t want to know about it yet.
And that is my assumptive answer to your vague question, which couldn’t possibly be referring to anything else because I didn’t even tell you that I burned my belly with a hot water bottle yesterday! So how could you be asking me about that? You mean my family. And we’re fine. Thank you for sort of asking.