Some traits we carry with us throughout our lives. Certain ones are inherited and others are learned–consciously or unconsciously, virtue or vice. When we become believers, the troublesome behaviors we learned along the way do not suddenly disappear. The process of transformation that begins in us the moment we say yes to Jesus is a daily, lifelong struggle, and some days are way harder than others.

A friend asked me back in 2005 why I was seemingly unable to just be still. It was a pointed question that stung but was perfectly legitimate; I have easily moved over 50 times since my 16th birthday. Sometimes the moves were across town; other times (like the one in question) the moves were across oceans. I’d switch careers, trade in old partners for new ones. I’d drive race cars at 280 mph and semi-trucks and airplanes and sailboats; I’d SCUBA dive and kayak. More often than not, the wild adventures were in response to some life circumstance over which I felt entirely powerless. Sad is not a state I like to live in. Conflict is a zone I evade and escape with ferocious tenacity. Hopeless is not an option. Powerless is not my thing–or so I prided myself in believing. So I’d pick something I knew I could make happen, and do that thing. The crazier the better.

But that was then and this is now, and the more I learn about Jesus and His redeeming love and God’s mercy, the more I am compelled to let go of that particular flaw; however, just when I think I have it mastered, some irksome twist of plot reminds me how much I need God’s grace to change. Every day.

Today Stan had a pulmonary function test (PFT). He has been experiencing shortness of breath and tiredness and has stopped walking and doing his breathing exercises, and his last PFT was two years ago. What’s more, the significantly-less-technical breathing tests done at the ALS clinic recently revealed that he had gone from 105% of normal lung function to 75%. To put this in perspective, someone with ALS must decide whether or not to have a feeding tube surgically placed before they reach 50%, so this information got our attention. We prepared ourselves for the changes we have been told to expect.

Thankfully, today’s PFT showed absolutely no change in Stan’s lung function from two years ago. But if I am being perfectly honest, this is the utter frustration of ALS. Of course we are enormously relieved that whatever is wrong, it’s not his lung function. But the old part of me that thrives on planning and controlling is more than a little upside down after the news, and I have wrestled with this response all day, trying to understand what it is I am feeling.

Today, the part of me that has been conditioned over the past 50 years to choose a new direction when I no longer have control over my present one is screaming to be heard and responded to.

I am restless and uncertain of how to proceed, what to change, what to say to my husband to be supportive, how to identify the real culprit (if any). Today I am humbled and small and sad and uncertain and hopeful that maybe Stan doesn’t really have ALS and we can go back to our normal lives and plan a future.

The words of Don Henley float in through the decades and remind me of where I have been.

Learn to Be Still

Just another day in paradise
As you stumble to your bed
Give anything to silence
Those voices ringing in your head

You thought you could find happiness
Just over that green hill
You thought you would be satisfied
But you never will
Learn to be still

We are like sheep without a shepherd
We don’t know how to be alone
So we wander ’round this desert
Wind up following the wrong gods home

But the flock cries out for another
And they keep answering that bell
One more starry-eyed messiah
Meets a violent farewell
Learn to be still

Learn to be still

Now the flowers in your garden
They don’t smell so sweet, so sweet
Maybe you’ve forgotten
Heaven lying at your feet
Ay, yeah yeah

There are so many contradictions
In all these messages we send
Keep asking
How do I get outta here?
Where do I fit in?

Though the world is torn and shaken
Even if your heart is breakin’
It’s waiting for you to awaken
Someday you will
Learn to be still

Learn to be still

Just keep on runnin’
Keep on runnin’
Oh, oh yeah, mm, mm
Just keep on runnin’

The Eagles

I don’t love this old part of me that is fearful and controlling and always needing to be on the move–especially in the midst of uncertainty. But I recognize God is doing something in me right here in the middle of this stuff I wish I didn’t have to deal with. Fortunately, Don Henley is now overshadowed by the words of Yahweh, the great I AM. The right God to follow home. The Messiah. The One who is able to teach me to

“Be still, and know that I am God.”

Psalm 46:10