A few weeks ago, our laundry room flooded. The floor needed to be ripped out, and well, it is a process.
So, I began taking our laundry to the laundry mat once or twice a week.
At first, I was irritated with the loading and unloading of the baskets. It seems any time I needed to take the multiple loads of laundry to be cleaned, a child would undoubtedly need their bedding washed as well. And the amount of laundry continued to multiply.
The good news is, doing all the laundry at the same time gets it all done in one swoop. But it still takes time.
And then, I began to enjoy that time. Those hours were inviting.
I found myself alone in the laundromat waiting for the clothes to finish washing so I could transfer them. This is when I found time to read, catch up on emails, or just sit in the quiet.
While waiting for the clothes to finish one cycle and move on to the next, I found myself in the in-between. Not just the in-between of the washer and the dryer, but the in-between of life.
This week I received a call regarding my daughter’s upcoming MRI. My instinct told me the MRI was scheduled rather quickly. We were only told a week ago she would need this MRI for something that did not appear very worrisome. I followed that instinct, and I called the doctor’s office that requested the test to see just what they were hoping to find or, rather, rule out.
An orbital tumor.
My precious baby girl.
Our official “we are done with babies” baby.
She has medical disabilities already, and this fiery daughter of mine has overcome so many obstacles in her short life.
She was born very early at 23 weeks.
She has a trach that she depends on to breathe (although we are hoping to lose that accessory soon).
She has a feeding tube for nutrition as we are still working on eating.
She has Adrenal Insufficiency that requires daily steroids just so her tiny body can keep up.
She has been in the hospital more times than I can count.
So now, we must worry about a tumor?
It does not seem fair.
Although, life rarely is.
The MRI is scheduled for next week.
This week, I find myself in the in-between—the time between transferring my worry from one cycle to the next.
It is during times like this I find it difficult to move, to concentrate, to focus on anything but the big bad thing looming overhead.
So I transfer the laundry.
As I stood quietly against the tables meant for folding in the quiet laundry mat, listening to the whirring of the machines and lost in my own thoughts, I realized this is where my faith is tested.
Do I worry? Or do I welcome the unknown and allow God to take me into His arms for rest?
Do I Google? Go down the rabbit hole of all things orbital tumor and drive myself to the brink of shutdown? Or do I simply give my worries over to Him and know He is faithful?
When things are good or bad, it is easy to cast all our cares. We are well versed in praising God for the good things and praying to God during the bad.
But the in-between . . .
It is possible to live dreading a dangerous storm even while the sun is shining. It is possible to plan for the worst while praying desperately for the best.
The in-between—where fear and love co-exist, where anxiety and peace share their story—this is where I will live for now.
When I do not know if the outcome will be great or grave, it is difficult for me to know what to do.
So, I simply pray. I pray for the next step.
I stand in the in-between waiting to transfer the clothes and my worries.
And I fold the laundry.
Originally published on the author’s blog