Timing Is Everything

It's Sunday, July 7 and my kayak is sad.

I'm just putting the date down here because it's helpful when you are in a state of disruption. None of the regular markers are in play. During the pandemic, or even that week between Christmas and New Years, we sometimes call it 'Blursday.'

But what I'm experiencing right now is more like "Blursweek" or even "Blursmonth." Part of me is still lingering in June I think, and part of me is out past August already. The calendar says July, so I'm going with that.

I've had lots of opportunity to consider the timing of my ruptured appendix. No one schedules these things of course, and if you could, would there really be a 'good time' for it? But still. It all came to pass in the middle of a huge life-transitional move, right before the onset of a meticulously planned out cottage schedule for the family, and a first-time missions trip for Abby that's been in the works for months.

Bad timing.

Or maybe not.

I keep thinking.

I was not up here when it happened. We are not that far from medical help here, for sure. But it wasn't until I got myself all the way to Emergency by way of my doctor that anyone clued in that it was my appendix. Would I have tried to ride out the pain a day or two longer to avoid all the inconvenience, if I still thought it was just a flare of up diverticulitis?

I was not in Thailand when it happened. There are good hospitals in Thailand for sure, and I would have been fully supported (and translated) by my Thai family, without question. But I am not so sure how it would have all gone down, or if my recovery time would have been sufficient to return home.

I was not on the plane when it happened. This one gives me pause. And maybe that's just all I'll say.

My sad kayak is actually a needed reminder. Not today. I won't be out today on Sunday, July 7. But there's time. Healing takes time. And time is so relevant and uncontrollable.

God's will.
His plans and purposes.
All happening in and around time,

which He exists outside of anyways,

so He can see things I can't.
I trust Him.
Regardless.

So not kayak this morning. What I will be doing this morning is happily gathering with the fine folks at Cognashene Community Church. We all had to miss it last week, weather being what it was. So my soul will be glad for the filling of reunion and beautiful, beloved faces. Fred Hacker, a friend and fellow Tyndale alum is leading the service today, and I know I will be ministered to in deep ways.

There is so much more to be grateful for than anything else.