Irreplaceable

Today I left work early once again because of pains that could be anything from a sour tummy to pre-labor. Unfortunately, everything is so squashed together that sometimes it's tough to know the difference. Thus, I came home after I finished teaching my classes, just like the doctor ordered. I put my feet up and fell asleep shortly after, and when I woke up, a sadness or sense of disappointment seemed to linger through the entirity of the day.

A conversation this evening with Tim helped bring the emotions to a head as I discussed releasing another one of my "duties" into the hands of someone else. So far, I've given up housework, cooking, going to the grocery store, exercise, and teaching standing up. Yes, I know this probably sounds wonderful to my overworked, exhausted friends, and it seemed so at first to me as well. But lately, as I've slowly given up more enjoyable tasks--frequenting Target, driving myself most places, outings with friends that involve any activity other than eating or movie-watching, and singing with Tim and the band--I've struggled against feeling useless, a mere vessel whose sole purpose is to fold my hands and wait.

I suppose I never realized how much of my worth I place in my usefulness and overall efficiency. Tim NEEDED me to keep the household running smoothly. My students NEEDED me to keep up with them. My friends NEEDED me to hang out with them. My church NEEDED me to reach out to women and to sing each week. Nope. I am not NEEDED--at least not to the extent that someone else might not easily "replace" the activities on my personal to-do list.

But, as a doctor friend of mine said recently, "Any monkey can hold a scapel and cut in a straight line. It's the personal touch, the bedside manner that counts." So it is with my life; it's not the things I can DO that give me purpose. Instead, it's the God I know, the person He is making me, and the people He leads my life to touch that offer me a sense of meaning, particularly during this time of rest and waiting.

The Westminster Catechism makes a statement I love, saying that "A man's chief end is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever." I am finding that at times (like this one) glorifying and enjoying Him means forsaking even good, right, and holy daily duties in order to lie still in his hand, trusting that his quiet, unmoving will is better than anything ony my to-do list. May I not chafe against this will, instead believing that He makes ME--just me, without all my actions and activities--worth enough to be irreplaceable as His child.