There are so many things I have noticed since my tumor that I never noticed before. One is that public landscaping is often dilapidated and not kept up to speed. I can't say I blame anyone because trees keep growing and roots keep maturing and that causes upheaval in sidewalks. However, I can't say I really noticed how difficult these kind of things could be if some of my senses were not up to par. It happened a few weeks ago when Paul and I were walking around Ballard. One particular part of the sidewalk that was boxing in a tree was significantly lower than the sidewalk itself. It was late and I was just walking along holding Paul's hand when I fell into the well in the sidewalk that the tree was housed in. The tree was on my left and I couldn't see the depth difference on my left side. I recovered pretty quickly and we switched sides on our walk. However, yesterday when we were walking in Fremont I was again taken aback by a tree well on the sidewalk. This one caused my ankle to twist and for me to loose my balance upon which I then got tangled under one of the branches and fell pretty hard. I couldn't see the depth difference or the root. Sweet Noah ran to me and tried to help me up and out of my embarrassment and frustration I pushed him away and told him to leave me alone. I think I said exactly "I don't need your help, I'm fine." He has been particularly sensitive about me and I immediately apologized profusely and felt terrible about how I reacted. I couldn't shake how bad I felt about the whole thing. I kept trying to explain how sorry I was and he kept saying it was okay and that he understood. I think it shook me up so much because I want to be fine. I want to not need help. I want to not have these episodes. I want everything to be okay. It was different somehow when I would fall down all the time before out of lack of coordination. Because then I thought I really was fine, just a little clumsy.
And I can't really figure out why this certain old memory of a devotion lodged itself in my heart yesterday when this all happened... It was the line.. "there are no leftovers.." that kept lingering in my frustration.
From A Tree Full of Angels by Macina Wiederker
"the secret to daily life is this......there are no leftovers...
...There is nothing -- no thing, no person, no experience, no thought, not joy, or pain that cannot be harvested and used for nourishment on our journey to God.
"What I am suggesting here is that everything in life is a stepping stone to holiness if only you recognize that you do have within you the grace to be present in each moment. Your presence is something you can choose to give or not give. Every experience, every thought, every word, every person in your life is a part of a larger picture of your growth..."
I can just so vividly recall myself pushing him away from me, full of self pity and walking away to pout. I allowed my own desires and pride to push my child away in a way that caused me so vividly to see how unwilling I am to be humbled and to allow others to help me and most of all to allow God to use me. I really want to be fully self sufficient and I guess for most of my life so far I believed that I was. But I'm not. I never was. I never will be. And I don't want to aspire to be. I want to continue to learn to be honest and vulnerable and true and I need to desire that more than I desire to have it all together.
I remember reading that devotion about a year ago when I was short on time and in a harried state most of the time. I remember feeling so moved that God could use even the little bit of energy I had left or that God could use the million times I lost my temper and that the parts that don't go perfectly aren't tossed out or left to grow mold because with God there are no leftovers. He can use it all for his glory and for joy. That even the ugly moments can be redeemed. And so I notice a lot more now.
Sidewalks and pathways can be so indifferent to someone who cannot negotiate well on her own. We live in a world that does not see people with disabilities and we seem to think and act as though all are one hundred percent perfect. A good case in point are how historically places of worship have steps and barriers that keep many away. We found out very quickly just how important it is to have someone else close by to help: to push a wheelchair over a bumpy sidewalk and maneuver across a curb; to open doors that are impossibly to heavy for a disabled person to go through without assistance; to open the eyes of others to make houses of worship and our homes accessible; and, above all, to open our hearts to each other, to reach out and then to take hold of each other. Thank you, Stephanie, and God bless you in helping me stay aware and to re-learn each day how to be more sensitive and caring. I still don´t get it right all the time and just want to do better.
ReplyDeleteYour story about Noah resonated. Similar event here this weekend but centered around Connor beaning Jon with an ice/snow ball in the face. His instant reaction of pain and annoyance was crushing for the little boy. Its hard. Really hard sometimes to remember all the ways to be with our children. Thanks for sharing. While we are praying for you - you are constantly ministering to us! Even from a coast away. A coast that looks mighty warm I'll add...sending love and prayers to you all.
ReplyDelete