Wrong Room

There are two types of hotel rooms that I find creepy to stay in by myself. Since my career over the past six years or so has involved a lot of travel, it has become something of a pet peeve when I receive one of these two types of rooms. Normally if I am in the hotel for one night, it doesn't bother me what room I stay in. As a friend of mine says, "I can hold a bear's head in a snuff box that long" Translation: I can do almost anything for a short period of time. But the nights spent in these rooms tend to depress me for highly diverse reasons.

The first style of room that happens the most frequently is the "handicapped" room. Handbars on the tub and shower, extra room next to the toilet, lower sink levels for wheelchair guests, couches and chairs removed for easier access to the bed and desk all make for a depressing stay. In my opinion, all the hotels need rooms like these. Folks with disabilities should be able to travel and tour and not be inconvenienced by poorly designed rooms. With that said, it depresses me to stay in them. I bump my elbows on the handrails in the shower, I sit on the bed and not at the desk. It is a constant reminder that there are folks who live in this world that live this as "normal". My eldest daughter while taking Gleevac for her cancer maintenance would understand better than I reframing your world to a new "normal." But I struggle when this normal is overlayed onto my normal. I guess I'm trying to say it isn't normal.

Monday night I was given a room in Grand Rapids which was twice the normal size of a standard hotel room...with a huge whirlpool tub in the corner..with two walls of mirrors surrounding the tub and reflecting on the bed, next to the tub. Nice room, but all I wanted to do was sleep there, do a little work, and go to my appointment. The room was obviously designed for a couple on a get away weekend. But the other half of my couple was 1200 miles away, too long a reach for even me. So every move I made was reflected in those mirrors. The only way to get away from them was to sit at the built in desk unit across the room nearer the TV. It only accentuated the fact that my bride was at home and I was not. Narcissism run aground. Just as an aside note, my working out is not having as much effect as I had hoped. Maybe mirrors add 15 pounds.

So here is what occurred to me as I was flying home. How many of us journey through life living in the wrong rooms? Our culture tells us we are sick, or have a certain malady that if we add the bars or move the furniture we can develop a new normal. If we live with the idea that we are impaired in some way, then the props that the world imposes on us will feel like the life of normality. Or our culture tells us that constant reflection and larger rooms and the need for better and better are the way to go. When we finally see a true reflection we understand that the lifestyle of narcissism only accentuates our alone-ness. We seem to spend our lives living in the wrong rooms.

When I got home last night my bride gave me hug and a kiss and said, "The washer is leaking." Aww. Home. My place with the worldview that allows a little sickness, allows intimacy, allows me to see me and the ones I love with clarity and discernment. We need to learn to take our rooms with us, not accept the rooms that the world tries to force on us. God built our rooms long before we arrived. He knew just what to put in them and just what to leave out, it is only our attempts to "fix it up" that we end up messing it up.

By the way, I went back down to the front desk to see if the young lady wanted to put me in a normal room. Would you believe that the "couples" room she gave me was the cheapest in the place? Hmm. Could be another blog in there.

Godspeed, to live in our intended rooms is a life well-lived.
Don