Proverbs 16:9 “Man makes his plans, but the Lord directs his steps.”
About a month ago, Amber and I were out shopping at Ross. Upon leaving the store, we returned to find something under the windshield wiper. I looked around and you guessed it: every vehicle within view had one of these same flyers: Sunny Foot Spa: 70 minutes of reflexology massage for only $25, $5 off their normal price.
Normally I get pretty frustrated when people leave solicitations on my vehicle, but after looking at the paper, I suddenly wasn’t upset any longer. I mean, how can you beat that? I’m all for massage, and just the mention of the word makes my sore back and neck muscles long to be deeply touched. With excitement, I showed it to Amber, who quickly rolled her eyes in typical daughter fashion. She’s not one for massage, and she’s definitely not one who advocates for frivolous spending. To her, massage = frivolous spending. To me, massage = heaven on earth; the deeper pressure, the better. So I tucked the paper away to use sometime in the future (likely for after she went back to college) and we went on our merry way.
Fast forward about a month to this last week. My friend Sharon and I were looking for something to do together in the evening after work, and I asked her if she knew much about reflexology. Now, you have to understand something: Sharon is a ‘go with the flow’ friend who is often agreeable to about whatever I suggest. I knew Sharon wasn’t too keen on massage, but I knew she liked pedicures, so I figured this reflexology thing might be kind of a mix between the two. She looked at the flyer, and she was “all-in:!
I must admit, even though I am a massive believer in therapeutic massage, as we walked into the storefront of Sunny Foot Spa, it quickly became clear to me that I was a little disillusioned about how this reflexology thing worked. I peeked around the corner to try to check out the situation. All I could tell when I tried to glance beyond the tri-fold screen that led into the open room was that I wasn’t so sure Sharon was going to like this thing.
“How does this work? Are we allowed to talk? I asked. And most importantly, “Can you let me use this coupon for both of us?” There was clearly a language barrier, so the staff member went to get someone else. Unfortunately, the answer was pretty much ‘No” for all of the above. I took a few steps toward the room to get a better look at what was behind the screen. It was an open room filled with several pieces of furniture, kind of like ottomans, pieced together and covered with white towels. I double checked with Sharon to get approval; she nodded, and from that point on, there was no turning back.
We followed the staff member to our stations (aka our personal ottomans.) It truly was a strange set-up, at least strange for me. We were told to put our belongings in a little tub at the top of our stations, and I started to pull my hair up on top of my head. With a broken English accent, I was quickly told to not do that because I was going to be getting a head massage. Now, I’m all for a head massage, but this one thing I know: if they tried touching my feet and then putting their hands anywhere near my head, I was going to have to create a scene. (Yes, I have foot issues, but that’s another blog.)
We were told to lie on the ottoman with our legs hanging over the side so our feet could soak in a fancy bowl of hot water. I can’t say that was really a comfortable position, because if you have any amount of junk in the trunk like I do, it kind of hurts your middle back to be in such a position. Sidenote: If there’s one thing I am known for at work, keeping my mouth closed is not it. My colleagues would be so proud of me, really, because as I glanced over at a perfectly happy Sharon, I decided to silently live with the temporary discomfort.
Before I knew it, the therapist stretched a dry white washcloth across my face and over my eyes, blocking my vision. Not seeing what’s going on is unnerving to me. Not knowing what’s going on is perhaps even more so. I like to be “in the know” and the unnerving thing was more so that I could tell there was movement around me but I didn’t know what or who was around me. All I could think of was that someone was getting into my purse, located in the bin on the floor just above my head. At this point, reflexology was not delivering relaxation.
I hated that washcloth over my eyes, but about half way through my session, I realized I could position it in a way that I could see the therapist (now working on my feet) through the bottom where my nose lifted the edge. Success. I could finally relax and enjoy the session.
Soon it was time for him to work on my back, and as I turned over with my head in the built-in cradle, my mind started to replay what I had experienced for the last 35 minutes. It dawned on me that my desire to be “in the know” kept me from enjoying the first half of my experience at Sunny Foot Spa. And as I lay there, I couldn’t help but realize the object lesson God was trying to teach me about “me”.
You see, for the last several years, our family been kind of living with some washcloths over our eyes. We’ve not been completely in the dark, because God has let us take plenty of peeks along the way. We knew He’s been preparing us for a change, but we just didn’t know what exactly that meant. Was it a move out of state? Was it a new job for my husband? Was it a move to the other side of Dallas for a school that better fit our son’s learning style? These are all things we prayed about and investigated. And with each “no”, we got another peek through the bottom of the washcloth.
Then it happened: the washcloth was removed completely, or so we thought. One day last spring, I got a call from my boss asking me to consider providing leadership in our Irving TX office. In truth, in all that time of being unsettled and knowing “change” was on the horizon, it never dawned on either of us that the reason for an upcoming transition would be related to my job.
We only live about 60-75 minutes from the Irving office I was asked to lead, but I already work a lot of hours each week. Personally, I just didn’t have another 10 hours a week to give the company in a commute, so the decision was obvious. (This is not to say that the decision was easy, because coming to grips with leaving my comfort zone and moving to a new area after 16 years of being in Wylie was one that came with many, many tears, but that’s another blog, too.)
Within a week, we had our home on the market, and we had a plan in place. It all seemed to make sense and fall into order. We spent at least one day of each weekend this last summer looking at neighborhoods out near the airport to figure out what area to relocate to. We went to open house after open house, and most importantly, we visited churches all around where we thought we would end up living. Our plan: to find a new church home and get Jacob assimilated into the student ministry, so that when our home in Wylie sold, we would already have a jump start on getting him settled for the start of his junior year of high school.
Within a few weeks, we had a great offer on our home, but before we could accept it, the buyer had to withdraw his offer. Over the course of the summer, we had two more crazy-low offers that we couldn’t accept for obvious reasons. And as of today, nearly 100 days later, our home is still on the market as we wait on God and His perfect timing.
Yes, we had our plans. We wanted Amber to be able to help pick out our new home before she went back to college for her Junior year. That didn’t happen - she went back to California 2 weeks ago. We had plans for Jacob to start his junior year in a new school district. That didn’t happen. We had plans to be settled into a new home and already active in a new church. Obviously, that didn’t happen either. We didn’t realize it, but that washcloth we thought had been removed was right back on again. God had only given us a peek into what was coming.
And as I lay on my stomach at Sunny Foot Spa, I realized that my whole experience there was reflective of the summer that had just ended. I thought things were going to go a certain way, but what I experienced was completely different. God had gently placed a blindfold over my eyes for the summer, allowing me to peek a little here and there, but only for a short period of time. Just like I had to trust that the experience at Sunny Foot Spa would be a positive one, God confirms to me over and over, “Trust me, it’ll be worth the wait.” Just like I had to go through a little discomfort on the ottoman, God re-assures me, “I know this is a little uncomfortable now, but keep trusting me; don’t complain; it will be worth it.”
When Sharon and I finished our session, we both looked at each other in amazement at how awesome the experience was. Next time, I won’t care about that blindfold being on my face. I know I can trust the process to accomplish its purpose. And you know what? There’s never been a doubt that I can trust God that the end product when we move will be something amazing, too.
I debated to even put pen to paper about my Sunny Foot Spa reflections. In truth, my life has been kind of on “hold” for so long that I just figured it would stay “on hold” until we moved. Even though I’ve been waiting on Him, as patiently and positively as I know how, I’ve kind of just been “existing” instead of living. I’ve put so much on hold and have hated that blindfold over my eyes so much that I haven’t allowed myself to enjoy this period of waiting on God.
Because I struggle with the “need to know”, I didn’t really enjoy my Sunny Foot Spa experience until it was more than half-way over. And because of the same thing, God showed me that I’ve not been living life to its fullest during this transition and enjoying this stage of my life. I haven’t been using my gifts or been involved in ministry at all, and it’s left me feeling very empty.
Over the last month, I have playing one song on my phone, over and over (and over) by Casting Crowns called “Just Be Held.” If you haven’t heard it, you must do so immediately. I’ve listened at least 100 times, and the words are golden…
Verse 1
Hold it all together. Everybody needs you strong.
But life hits you out of nowhere and barely leaves you holding on.
And when you’re tired of fighting, chained by your control,
There’s freedom in surrender, lay it down and let it go.
Chorus
So when you’re on your knees and answers seems so far away
You’re not alone, stop holding on and just be held
Your world’s not falling apart it’s falling into place
I’m on the throne stop holding on and just be held. Just be held.
Verse 2
If your eyes are on the storm you wonder if I love you still.
But if your eyes are on the cross you know I always have and I always will.
And not a tear is wasted in time you’ll understand,
I’m painting beauty with the ashes; your life is in My hands.
Bridge
Lift your hands, lift your eyes, in the storm is where you’ll find Me
And where you are I’ll hold your heart, I’ll hold your heart.
Come to me and find your rest in the arms of a God who won’t let go.
Chorus
So when you’re on your knees and answers seems so far away
You’re not alone, stop holding on and just be held
Your world’s not falling apart it’s falling into place
I’m on the throne stop holding on and just be held. Just be held.
It didn’t dawn on me until this weekend that even though my faith in this process of moving hasn’t wavered, I’ve personally just been “holding on” – exactly what the song talks about. I have been taking a big breath and coming up for air only when I have to. I had stopped writing, and I had pretty much stopped looking for ministry opportunities. Blindfold removed or not, it’s clear that God wants me to enjoy this process of faith and not just “sit and wait” holding on. The blindfold doesn’t mean to stop pressing on, it just means to press on while holding the hand of my Guide more tightly.
Yes, I’m a little out of practice at this blogging thing. And yes, I’m more than a little out of practice at trying to be brief. (OK, in truth, I didn’t try this time.) But this one thing I know, I'm committed to not just “hold on” any more. I’m committed to enjoy the process from here on out, start to finish, blindfold or not.
And one more thing, I'm definitely going back to Sunny Foot Spa as soon as I can! There's something to this "reflexology" thing, and it definitely gives you reason for reflection!
-- Beth Banfill
www.GodandMe2themax.com