Friday, August 8, 2014

Friday (8/8/2014)

Update & Thought for the Day:


On Thursday evening I had a picnic to attend for an organization that I belong to.  I became an instant celebrity when two of the host’s younger daughters (7 & 10 years old) found me.  They wanted to know everything about my leg and what happened to me.  “Can we see your leg?  Can we touch it?” I instantly had two new buddies and someone who wanted to push my wheelchair wherever I needed to go.  I love the openness and inquisitive nature of children; although I struggled to explain an infection to the seven year old! 

Thursday morning, Kate, my oldest daughter, and I headed to the nursing home to hold a worship for the residents.  My leg has still not healed well enough for me to wear my prosthesis, so I was in my wheelchair.  It is the first time I did the worship service at the nursing home from my wheelchair.  As we entered the chapel I was struck by how full it was and by how many were in wheelchairs themselves.  As I rolled in it seemed that everyone looked at me with an intense interest and there was an instant connection with them.  Sounds sort of strange, but it seemed like they were more interested in paying attention to me because I appeared to be one of them.  I wasn’t some young, spry, healthy guy spouting off platitudes—I at least had a glimpse into their lives.  One aspect of growing older is all the things you give up along the way: your freedom, your health, your mobility, your career, your hobbies, your home, your car, as well as your ability to go to church, cook, do chores, etc.—everything that once defined you in your “previous” life is slowly taken from you.  For some, even the memories from that past life are taken from them. 

All of this loss begs the question, “When everything is stripped away, who am I?”  We usually define ourselves by things like our job, where we live, and our family.  Without those things we are often at a loss.  “I used to be a plumber.”  “I used to live on Wilson Ave. in Fall Creek.”   People may describe themselves in terms of what they no longer have; but who are you really?  What about describing ourselves by the things we value or our character qualities or personality traits?  “I like to laugh and make people laugh; I value honesty in people; I love God and am thankful for Jesus’ sacrifice on my behalf; Although I love to talk and be around people, I also am kind of shy so I value my ‘alone time’ as well as my ‘people time.’”  Now we are getting to the heart of who we truly are.

I have found that many things that we enjoy and take for granted for majority of our lives can be stripped away in a moment’s notice.  It can throw you off balance and you feel like you have lost contact with who you are.  I think this is why some amputees struggle with the loss of a limb.  It changes your life and, at least temporarily, strips you of the things that you identify yourself with. 

If I am a runner and suddenly can no longer run—who am I?  We often overlook how adaptive we are as people and that many things from our past life we will eventually resume (sometimes in a modified form).  “Right now I cannot run; but soon I will be able to walk again and after that, who knows my limits?  We’ll see if run again.  Maybe I’ll take up bicycle riding instead!”  After my mother lost her health, she was restricted from doing some of the things she loved in the manner that she wanted to do them.  Unfortunately her attitude was “my life is over and I have nothing to live for.”  Beyond a certain point she was unable or unwilling to adapt to her new situation so she lost interest in life.  I was sad to see that she never really recaptured the joy of living.  I know other people who have responded to loss in their lives in a similar manner.  People who are widowed face a very difficult struggle.  They no longer have a very large and important part of their identity.  They grieve terribly over the loss of their loved one and everything that they meant in their lives.  No longer a couple, not really feeling like a single.


No matter what loss we suffer—there is still life after loss, and it is a life worth living because we never know what is just around the bend.  Yes, we may have to give up a number of things that used to be an important part of our previous life; but we might just discover a whole new world open up before us because of our new circumstances.  Life is an adventure.  So take that journey one day at a time and look forward to what you’ll discover in the day ahead.  You might find a new skill, a new hobby, a new friend, and even a brand-new you!

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