Control

Last Friday, my sister and I went to Greeley to visit my grandparents. My sweet grandpa is in the hospital with a brain tumor that is quite literally sucking the life out of him. 

My dear grandmother is caring for him as much as she can during the day and is facing life alone in her home at night. 

Our visit with Grandpa was horrible and wonderful. It was moving to say the least. It's not something I have processed or can really completely express. 

But Saturday morning is a different story. 

Our plan was to eat breakfast at home with Grandma, then leave at 9:00 am and head to Denver for a little prom dress shopping on our way home. 

Then the toilet overflowed. Alot.

And for the next two-and-a-half hours it was me, the toilet water, the wet-vac, and the carpet. In the bathroom. And the hallway. And the bedroom. 

While the roar of the shop-vac drowned out the activity of the rest of the house, I had two-and-a-half hours of reflection. Reflection on servanthood and slowing down. Reflection on love and the actions that show love and what motivates me to love. I thought about how selfish I can be. I reflected on control. I thought about how most things - big and small - are out of our control. Things like toilet water and brain tumors. I thought about how uncomfortable it is to be out of control. 

I didn't solve any problems or come to any earth-moving conclusions. But something about the experience calmed me. Made me stop feeling hectic for a moment. It shifted my perspective and I'm facing this week with a resolve to be more deliberate and more intentional. To remain out of control and uncomfortable and, somehow in the midst of that, to regain focus.