There have been some truly amazing things going on in my life this past week, and more generally these past six months.
Slowly, but surely, everything that needs to stop being a part of me is being chipped away and I'm being sculpted into something else. It makes me smile because the night before the accident I prayed to be Christ-like and now I'm seeing that's what's been going on this whole time.
One thing that's been hard for me is "submitting to another person's will" even when that will is the will of my surgeon or the ER doctor. But today it hit me during the sermon that Christ's will was that the bitter cup should pass from him and God's will was that it needed to happen. So Christ submitted. As strange as it is, I want to be like that. And finally past this third surgery (with help from friends) I'm beginning to accept that what I want is not always the best route (though when it comes to stuff besides my health, I'm generally pretty wise).
Then today I was stacking chairs and a three year old girl came up to me. She and I talked and got along pretty well and I found myself playing with her and teaching her as opposed to doing my job for quite some time. I found that I felt this was all right and remembered that Christ sure liked little children probably more than I did. Besides, as funny as it was, we spoke the same language: Bluntly straightforward and pretty happy.
I wondered if I would have been patient enough to have that hour or so with her had I not learned stillness in a wheelchair, though. Since before I had more work priority.
And there was more peace as the day went. Someone forgot they were to meet with me today. I was inconvenienced to be sure, but somehow I couldn't be angry. It was totally her fault, but I simply didn't mind. Now that one was sure a new feeling. And one I really liked. But once again, it was a lesson learned in a wheelchair.
Someone asked today if I needed help and for one of the first times I said, "Yes," and quite frankly did not feel entitled, just grateful. That was learned near the end of my time in a wheelchair. Humility. Because you can still hold onto pride for a surprisingly long time after being crippled I found.
Then I remembered how during those first ten days, I learned to trust. I've always had issues with that. But this forced me to trust in Carol and really really trust in God more than I ever naturally would have because I simply could not do it on my own.
And today as people marveled at me being able to walk again, I was amused. They seemed surprised that I could be so happy when I was going through so much hard stuff. But really, how could I not be happy when I was so blessed?! You see, when I was stripped of everything, I realized nothing is truly mine. everything is a gift from Him. So if my bouncing stride gives Him glory, great. If my voice or my mind or my hands can praise Him, great. It was a hard lesson that by no means is over, but it sure makes life more joyful to realized how utterly loved you are.
And all this was learned through pain and humiliation. Through fear, terror, and depression. But He's right. It's way worth it in the end.
