A Change of Plans

I am a planner. I like to plan out my day. I like to plan out my week. Sometimes, I even plan out into the next year. While I love order in my life, sometimes I lose out on the joy of the spontaneous by being such a planner. I also run a huge risk of being derailed from my route when the unexpected happens. Such was the case this week when the unexpected crossed paths with the downright frightening.

Normally for my family, Sundays don't require planning. Sundays are predictably predictable. Early morning finds my husband and I reading our local newspaper while we enjoy our morning cup of coffee. Mid morning, we head to church for worship and fellowship. By noon we are back home to enjoy a leisurely afternoon of napping, relaxing and occasionally, for me, crafting.

This past Sunday, we followed our usual routine. After church, I changed into my comfy sweatpants and ratty sweatshirt. I was starting to make lunch when my phone rang. My caller ID registered "Mom." When I answered the call, the voice I heard on the other end was not my mom, but my aunt. My aunt had stopped to visit with my mom and had found her on the floor by her bed. The paramedics were there. My mom was breathing, but in bad shape.

As the reality of my aunt's words sunk in, I sprang into action. My daughter, Lorie, staying with us during her break, attempted to keep me calm, but I still sped the entire way to my mom's condo. We live about twenty minutes away and the drive seemed to take an eternity. As we pulled into the main condo drive, the parade of emergency vehicles turned out. Ambulance. Rescue unit. Fire truck. Volunteer firefighter vehicles. We did a u-turn and followed the ambulance to the hospital. Upon arrival at the emergency entrance, I was a bit frightened by the gray pallor of my mom's complexion, but the medics assured me she was stable.

After hours in emergency and countless tests, swabs and x-rays, the ER doctor informed us that mom tested positive for influenza A and they would continue to run various tests to rule out other issues. There was no question: she would be admitted. It was several more hours before she was wheeled up to the intermediate care unit. She was hooked up to IVs, oxygen and monitors.

Within a day, she seemed to perk up and make great progress only to deteriorate the following day. Her failing health was attributed to an additional diagnosis of pneumonia, then bronchitis. It was tough seeing mom struggle both physically and mentally. This week has been a roller coaster affair of gains and setbacks, highs and lows, fears and frustrations. Although she remains in the hospital, she is definitely on the road to recovery.

When I look back to Sunday, I could never have predicted the course of events this week would take. In fact, most of the plans I made for this week went by the wayside. Instead, my week was filled with hospital visits, daily calls to my far away sisters, chats with doctors and nurses and distracted hours at work. Through it all, I felt God's presence, close beside me. He was there in the kind words of coworkers. He was there in the phone calls from friends and family. He was there in the "chance" encounters of the week. He carried mom and he carried me.  

Jeremiah 29: 11-12 is a favorite passage for many folks. Today it comes to mind in a fresh way:

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me and I will listen to you."