False Alarm

The LORD your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing." - Zephaniah 3:17

On Tuesday, my mom gave me the news that my 90-year-old grandmother had fallen and cracked her pelvis. “They got a hospital bed for the house because she won’t be able to get up and move around,” my mom explained, “but it sounds like things are going okay.”

But later that night, I called my aunt who lives with and cares for my grandmother. I got a much more complete, and grim, picture of the situation from her. The report sent me packing for a trip to Arkansas. With a single phone call, I found that my life for the next six days would be different from what my daily planner outlined.

After gagging over the high price of last-minute airline tickets, my dad and I decided to make the fifteen-hour drive from Colorado to northern Arkansas. I alerted the people I had commitments to that I would be unable to uphold my end of the deal because I was heading out of town. I threw in loads of laundry and started making preparations to help things go smoothly for my family in my absence. Most of all, however, I prayed. I asked for comfort and protection for my grandmother, and that she would live long enough for me to see her one last time. I prayed for peace for my aunt, because I cannot begin to imagine the stress of providing full-time care for someone in my grandmother’s condition. I prayed that my dad and I would have a safe trip and not arrive too stiff to bend over and hug my grandmother.

When I spoke with my aunt the next day, my life changed again with one phone call. “I don’t know who I am looking at,” my aunt exclaimed. “Mom is suddenly doing great!” She was sitting up, feeding herself, even singing. And since so much family had already arrived in Arkansas, we decided to hold off on our trip for a few weeks. I hadn’t realized that I had been holding my breath for the past twelve hours until I finally let it out. My muscles tingled with release as I moved from physical action mode to mental processing mode in the span of three seconds.

This experience gave me a good reminder, yet again, of how quickly life can change. Our expectations for a day, or a week, or longer, can shift with the ring of the phone. The people around us can too. Those closest to us are like fine china—precious and fragile, and designed to be appreciated. There are a surprising number of “to do” items in my planner that are easy to skip over when something, or someone, more important needs attention. And if I really think about it, there is always someone more important who should get my attention, rather than the unnecessary distractions of modern life.

Who are you going to focus on today?