Is it Time to Answer Your Wake-up Call?

At our house, we have one daughter who usually gets up in the morning before her alarm goes off, so she rarely needs a wake-up call. Meanwhile, just down the hall, daughter No. 2 hits snooze numerous times and often doesn’t actually leave her bed until we throw open her curtains or shout up from the first floor, “Molly, it’s time to get up!”

Whether a soft alarm is enough or it takes bright light in your face to rouse you, all literal wake-up calls have one thing in common: Yesterday’s call won’t work for today. I can’t call up to Molly this morning and expect that it’s going to get her out of bed tomorrow—she needs a new wake-up call every morning.

As I learned recently, however, that’s not necessarily the case with when it comes to metaphorical wake-up calls—those epiphanies that show people they need to change in some significant way.

In addition, “The actual wake-up call is not nearly as important as what happens next,” according to author and minimalism expert Courtney Carver.

“The opportunity to respond to it has no time limit,” she writes in Soulful Simplicity: How Living with Less Can Lead to So Much More. “If your wake-up call came years ago, this is the perfect time to take action and turn it into something powerful. You have an opportunity to rewrite your story and change things about your life, or your whole life.”

This struck an unexpected chord with me when I first read it a few months ago.

Randy had been going to work every day at his essential job in the commercial construction industry. But talk of a Covid-19 recession brought back memories of the Great Recession of the late 2000s, when he was laid off twice in 18 months.

As a result, the what-ifs were wreaking a bit of havoc in my mind.

What if that happens again? How long would it last? Would we have to spend all the girls’ college money on living expenses? Worse yet, what if one of us gets the virus and dies?

It was ridiculous, I know. But that’s where I found myself at that time.

My lifelong desire to know how the story ends had kicked into high gear.

I used to worry a lot more than I do now, but this part lingers. For me, it’s not about control as much as it is about security. And although I’ve had to weather a good dose of uncertainty during the last few years, those familiar feelings of dread can still settle like a lump of lead in the pit of my stomach at times.

When I read Carver’s words, however, something snapped into place deep within me.

My need to know how the story ends is so much a part of me that I actually include it in my writing bio. But I’m going to be 50 later this year. I don’t want this to be part of my identity for the rest of my life.

More immediately, perhaps you’ve heard that there’s a big election coming up—two days before my birthday, actually. Over the course of my adult life, few things have triggered this need-to-know-the-ending anxiety like presidential elections.

In the past, my dad—with his godly perspective and long view of history—was always a source of reason and comfort during these stressful times. But he’s not here anymore to tell me it’s all going to be OK.

I’ve had numerous opportunities to work on this over the years, but I never really considered it urgent enough to address it. I would simply feel anxious until the issue was resolved and then forget about it until the next uncertain event.

But what better time than now, when we are faced with an open-ended situation characterized by more questions than answers, to get serious about learning how to be OK with not knowing how it’s all going to turn out?

I’ve actually had a bit of literal practice at this lately.

When we replaced our treadmill last fall, I began reading books on my tablet while I ran because there was no way to attach my old book-reading stand to the new machine. While it’s possible to read ahead in an ebook, it’s not very convenient or safe to do while you’re running.

So I stopped doing it.

I’ve peeked a few times, but I’ve read several books straight through, without once looking at the end.

Maybe it’s just a coincidence that I started doing this a few months before my wake-up call. Or perhaps it’s another example of how God goes before us, preparing the way for the heart work that needs to happen next.

I wish I could tell you that I’ve come up with a five-step plan for overcoming my need to know how the story ends. Honestly, though, I’m not really sure how to go about it—except one day at a time.

When I feel that anxiety starting to rise, I say to myself, “Wait. Stop. What is the truth about this?”

If there’s no clear answer to that, I ask, “What is the truth about fear and anxiety? Where does my help come from?” (Answer: Not the “hills,” though I’m often tempted to look there first.)

Awareness, mixed with a newfound determination not to let this remain on my “that’s just how I am” list, pushes me forward. (Along with the need to be as emotionally and spiritually healthy as possible come November and the aforementioned presidential election.)

Next week, I’ll share a few more thoughts about what’s helping me work through this. In the meantime, I’m wondering if any of this applies to someone besides me.

Maybe the Covid-19 pandemic, your experiences sheltering-in-place or the George Floyd tragedy has led to some sort of wake-up call for you. Maybe you had a wake-up call years ago that you’ve never really answered.

Or maybe you’ve heard more of a wake-up whisper—a quiet realization that you’re not getting any younger, that you don’t want to keep on the way you’ve been, that with God’s help and a healthy dose of grit, you could actually make a change that changes your life.

It might have to do with a health problem, a relational issue, your attitudes, your work, your home or something relating to your character. If taken seriously, it could prompt you to seek counseling, change your eating habits, begin exercising, dig into scripture, reach out to your neighbor, forgive someone or seek forgiveness yourself, finish your degree or start cleaning out your closets.

Whatever it is, why not start working it out now?

It might take some planning or require financial resources that you don’t have right now. But heart work can happen any time.

Seriously. If I can do it, you can do it. And there’s no time like the present to start.

♥ Lois

P.S. I’m linking up this week with Purposeful Faith, #TellHisStory, InstaEncouragements,  #HeartEncouragement, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.