Trish walked today. She has been walking slowly for several days now, between the parallel bars, anyway. She has taken little baby steps with her wobbly legs. Today though, she used a walker. With a little help from her therapists, she walked down the hallway, sat down in a chair, rested a bit and then returned to the parallel bars. She was exhausted afterward and had to go to bed for a nap but she had walked. I watched as her feet began taking the kinds of natural steps that showed that her brain is beginning to remember how to walk.
I thought of a verse of Chris Rice's Untitled Hymn:
Like a newborn baby, you have to learn to crawl
Just remember when you walk sometimes you fall;But fall on Jesus, Fall on Jesus, Fall on Jesus --and live!
If Trish allows herself to get paralyzed by the fear of falling she will never walk again. Falling may happen. It's a part of walking. But she can't worry about that. She has to focus on throwing her energies into walking.
I remember first hearing Chris Rice's song at a funeral. We had gathered to honor the memory and the ministry of Jim Roam, surely one of America's finest pastors. I listened as Dan Dean sang the song. When he got to the verse about walking, I nearly came unglued.
Somehow, as I was growing up, I got the idea that falling was the worse thing anyone could ever do. I remember a number of times hearing people whispering about others who had made some kind of mistake. "well, brother, he fell!" they would say. I recall how the atmosphere would fill with sorrow and dread, like someone had died that would not be coming back. How I wish I could go back in time. I would ask those mourning people a question, "well, did he get back up?"
When I heard Dan Dean sing Untitled Hymn, a most powerful revelation broke through to my soul. I grasped at the core of my being it seemed that when you walk, sometimes you fall. That's the way life works. Just make sure you "fall on Jesus and live." The apostle Peter fell on Jesus and lived; the apostate Judas fell and never got up again.
How you fall and what you do about it when you fall, is everything.
Trish has the most wonderful therapists. They encourage her every step. When she makes a mistake, they give her feedback about how she can avoid making the same mistake the next time. As a result, she keeps walking -- however slow, however crooked and however wobbly -- she keeps on walking.
What would happen to our churches if we could learn to pastor the way those therapists care for their patients? What if we told people,
Like a newborn baby, you have to learn to crawl
Just remember when you walk sometimes you fall;But fall on Jesus, Fall on Jesus, Fall on Jesus --and live!
Maybe more people would learn to walk.
Tuesday, June 29, 2004
Trish #22
I woke up at 6:00, got up from the old cot in Trish's room and got quickly dressed. I picked up Peterson's paraphrase of the Bible, his A Long Obedience in the Same Direction, and my journal. I then walked down the long hospital hallway, went outside and sat down by a little lawn and flower garden. The birds were singing and looking for breakfast. The Phoenix heat would be making itself felt soon but for now the temperature was mild enough. I soaked in the solitude and the morning silence.
After a while, I took up my journal and wrote:
"I wonder how many fights the hospital personnel have had to keep this lawn from being made into a parking lot? How wonderful that it is preserved! Nature and nurture -- these are the two essential ingredients in any healing environment. This garden is yet another example of the principle expressed in that ancient prayer, thanking God for the wine and the bread, which he has created and human hands have prepared. Divine creation must be matched with human intention and preparation if worship is to take place. This garden is also a combination of divine creation and human intention and preparation. I am thankful for it."
I then read in A Long Obedience.
After awhile, I took my journal and wrote once more.
"I am aware this morning of the deepest sense of joy. Why is this?"
In this book, Peterson defines blessing as a sense of well-being that one experiences who feels connected to life, aware of his or her own soul, conscious of the presence of God and reasonably free of anxiety. It is the quality that Jesus, in his Sermon on the Mount, promises to all who follow him.
For most of my life, I have experienced this sense of well-being. Especially in the Latin American years, I awoke every morning to the warmth of Latin American culture. Even in the midst of poverty, I was aware of how that culture's committeeman to hospitality and mutual concern fed my soul. Early in the morning, the church bells called the Roman Catholic faithful to mass while the sounds of Protestant hymns filled the air. The smells of coffee, freshly baked bread and tropical fruit awoke my physical appetite. Life was put on alert. My spirit was stirred. A brand new day was breaking. Even after sleeping on a straw bed, I could feel the vibrancy of my own soul resonating with the awakening world around me.
For the past many years, I have incrementally lost that sense of well-being. Living in the midst of modern American culture, I have steadily allowed myself to accept a definition for blessing that views it as the state of being materially prosperous. For the last few years, I have been trying to put into words the quality of life that I have missed even as I experienced ever increasing 'blessing" as this culture defines it. This morning though, sitting in this little corner of grass, surrounded by the tress and flowers that the medical industry has somehow failed to conquer in the name of progress, I feel that old sense of blessing. I even find myself humming. What is it? Ahhh ...
"This is my Father's world; He shines in all that's fair ..
and though the wrong seems often strong, God is the ruler yet."
I would rather have this sense of blessing than any amount of wealth or power. Without it, I don't even really wish to live.
So how do I permanently surrender my idolatry? How do I give up my excruciating bondage to complication and complexity? How do I return to loving God and loving my neighbor as myself? How can I relearn the joy of discovering delight in a single flower? How do I throw away the foolish concern about the value of stock or stop wasting my valuable time and energy on the ceaseless expansion of my personal power and influence? How can I keep returning my soul to sanctity? How do I escape the prison, the cruel mirage, of this present world?
How does one consistently live in blessing by centering his or her soul in grace, especially in our times?
Trish is here to rediscover how to walk and talk. She will have no time today for any worries about new furniture or buying some amazing gadget she saw on TV. She will not care one iota about whether or not her clothes are fashionable. Yesterday, after she finally realized that half of her head had been shaved, her only comment was, "that sure was an expensive haircut!" She is just glad to be alive. She is delighting in being able to express love for me, for her family and for her friends.
For both of us, life suddenly got very basic.
I have just slept on an old cot that was terribly uncomfortable, my sleep constantly interrupted by hospital personnel going about their work. She has been fighting to remember who she is and what her life is all about. Most people would say that we have experienced a catastrophe. No one I know would want to trade places with us.
So why am I happier this morning than I was a month ago? Where did all those worries about silly things go? And is it Trish that God sent to rehab or is it me?
After a while, I took up my journal and wrote:
"I wonder how many fights the hospital personnel have had to keep this lawn from being made into a parking lot? How wonderful that it is preserved! Nature and nurture -- these are the two essential ingredients in any healing environment. This garden is yet another example of the principle expressed in that ancient prayer, thanking God for the wine and the bread, which he has created and human hands have prepared. Divine creation must be matched with human intention and preparation if worship is to take place. This garden is also a combination of divine creation and human intention and preparation. I am thankful for it."
I then read in A Long Obedience.
After awhile, I took my journal and wrote once more.
"I am aware this morning of the deepest sense of joy. Why is this?"
In this book, Peterson defines blessing as a sense of well-being that one experiences who feels connected to life, aware of his or her own soul, conscious of the presence of God and reasonably free of anxiety. It is the quality that Jesus, in his Sermon on the Mount, promises to all who follow him.
For most of my life, I have experienced this sense of well-being. Especially in the Latin American years, I awoke every morning to the warmth of Latin American culture. Even in the midst of poverty, I was aware of how that culture's committeeman to hospitality and mutual concern fed my soul. Early in the morning, the church bells called the Roman Catholic faithful to mass while the sounds of Protestant hymns filled the air. The smells of coffee, freshly baked bread and tropical fruit awoke my physical appetite. Life was put on alert. My spirit was stirred. A brand new day was breaking. Even after sleeping on a straw bed, I could feel the vibrancy of my own soul resonating with the awakening world around me.
For the past many years, I have incrementally lost that sense of well-being. Living in the midst of modern American culture, I have steadily allowed myself to accept a definition for blessing that views it as the state of being materially prosperous. For the last few years, I have been trying to put into words the quality of life that I have missed even as I experienced ever increasing 'blessing" as this culture defines it. This morning though, sitting in this little corner of grass, surrounded by the tress and flowers that the medical industry has somehow failed to conquer in the name of progress, I feel that old sense of blessing. I even find myself humming. What is it? Ahhh ...
"This is my Father's world; He shines in all that's fair ..
and though the wrong seems often strong, God is the ruler yet."
I would rather have this sense of blessing than any amount of wealth or power. Without it, I don't even really wish to live.
So how do I permanently surrender my idolatry? How do I give up my excruciating bondage to complication and complexity? How do I return to loving God and loving my neighbor as myself? How can I relearn the joy of discovering delight in a single flower? How do I throw away the foolish concern about the value of stock or stop wasting my valuable time and energy on the ceaseless expansion of my personal power and influence? How can I keep returning my soul to sanctity? How do I escape the prison, the cruel mirage, of this present world?
How does one consistently live in blessing by centering his or her soul in grace, especially in our times?
Trish is here to rediscover how to walk and talk. She will have no time today for any worries about new furniture or buying some amazing gadget she saw on TV. She will not care one iota about whether or not her clothes are fashionable. Yesterday, after she finally realized that half of her head had been shaved, her only comment was, "that sure was an expensive haircut!" She is just glad to be alive. She is delighting in being able to express love for me, for her family and for her friends.
For both of us, life suddenly got very basic.
I have just slept on an old cot that was terribly uncomfortable, my sleep constantly interrupted by hospital personnel going about their work. She has been fighting to remember who she is and what her life is all about. Most people would say that we have experienced a catastrophe. No one I know would want to trade places with us.
So why am I happier this morning than I was a month ago? Where did all those worries about silly things go? And is it Trish that God sent to rehab or is it me?
Monday, June 28, 2004
Trish #21
Last night I awoke to strange mechanical noises. Trish was pushing the buttons on her bed and moving it up and down. So I got up and went to her side. I asked her, "honey, why are you moving your bed?"
"Because I want to," she said.
She was obviously worried, so I talked to her for a while. For the first time since she woke form her coma, she started talking about aspects of her recovery that causes her distress. Among the indignities she mentioned was "wearing boots to bed."
"That's not right, " she said. "I don't like wearing boots in bed."
At night the nurses put a boot-like contraption on her feet. Under these, she wears some legging-like things that constantly message her feet and legs. These work to prohibit the formation of blood clots. She has worn them for weeks. Last night was the first time she seemed upset about them.
I called for a nurse. When I had explained what Trish was saying, the nurse turned to her and said very tenderly, "you're right dear. Normal people don't wear boots to bed. The first step toward not having to wear them any more is becoming aware of what normal is. You are getting better, That's why you're suddenly upset with things."
A few minutes later, as I listened to Trish's breathing fall into a normal breathing pattern for a sleeping person, I lay awake a while thinking about what the nurse had said. I thought about the paradox of Trish's recovery actually making her more distressed. It made me think of one of the verse of Amazing Grace, "Twas grace that taught my heart to fear and grace my fears relieved." One of the best definitions of the process of recovery in the field of addictions involves four steps:
1. Unconscious incompetence (I screw up and don't know why)
2. Conscious incompetence (Now I know why I screw up)
3. Conscious competence (I don't screw up so much when I make myself focus on what I know I am supposed to do)
4. Unconscious competence (Most of the time I act in healthy ways without really thinking about it.)
Obviously, people at stage #1 & stage #4 of recovery are the most content people in the process! The folk in the other two steps may sometimes wish that they had remained unconscious of their incompetence! In recovery, people who "put their shoulder to the plow" must not look back. For once one becomes aware, there is no way to go but forward.
In addictions work, we often see family interventions. In these, one family member after another will say things to the addict like "Mom, you are addicted to pain medication. You are hurting all of us and we are tired of it." Or, "Sally, I am not sure I can live with you any more if you intend to keep using your drugs." For the addict, intervention feels like the worse day of his or her life. But it can be the beginning of a new and healthy life. The addict's self-created world gets shattered because it is a sick and counterfeit world and must be shattered. However, if it is the only world he or she knows, then for a while it will be difficult to imagine how life is going to work.
In the spiritual journey, those moments in which we become suddenly aware that we have been hateful, or selfish or a bore or addicted, are terribly difficult to bear, When these moments happen, we are actually making progress in our personal lives. Even though we feel worse we are actually getting better.
Grace teaches our hearts to fear before it moves to relieve our fears. We fear before we heal because we cannot heal ourselves and that vulnerability can be terrifying.
Last night, one of the nurses said, "Mrs. Scott, we are here because we want to serve you. If any of us had suffered what you have suffered, we would require the same care you are getting. We chose this profession because we are called to do this. We know that you are anxious tonight because you are getting better. You are a lady. Naturally, you are uncomfortable doing things ladies don't ordinarily do. But soon you will not have to do things like wear boots to bed. You have to wear them for a few more nights because you are still sick. You were so sick before that you didn't even care. Now that you are better, naturally you want to be totally well. But it is unfolding as it should. Be patient."
As these two servants of health and healing talked, Trish relaxed. Soon she was asleep. Amazing how a truthful explanation can soothe the soul.
"How precious did that grace appear the hour I first believed."
How gross our faults can appear to us the moment we are first willing to actually see them. We may have spent a lifetime not even believing we had faults. Then, for some reason, we receive grace to see our own faults as others see them. The sudden awareness of our own sinfulness and even wretchedness can be devastating. Even though our faults have been there all along and even though we realize that others are no different than we are, it is devastating to know that we are not in some kind of special category of sinlessness after all. We are in the same boat as all humanity and the things we hate in others have been in us all along. When we realize this, we naturally want to be completely well -- right now!
I hear the words of St. John's gospel, "God sent not His Son into the world to condemn the world but that through Him all might be saved." Without words like these, ignorance really would be bliss. One we hear them, our awareness of our own sin becomes an assurance that we are actually being saved. For the grace that makes us aware is the same grace that works mightily to relieve.
Consciousness has its price!
"Because I want to," she said.
She was obviously worried, so I talked to her for a while. For the first time since she woke form her coma, she started talking about aspects of her recovery that causes her distress. Among the indignities she mentioned was "wearing boots to bed."
"That's not right, " she said. "I don't like wearing boots in bed."
At night the nurses put a boot-like contraption on her feet. Under these, she wears some legging-like things that constantly message her feet and legs. These work to prohibit the formation of blood clots. She has worn them for weeks. Last night was the first time she seemed upset about them.
I called for a nurse. When I had explained what Trish was saying, the nurse turned to her and said very tenderly, "you're right dear. Normal people don't wear boots to bed. The first step toward not having to wear them any more is becoming aware of what normal is. You are getting better, That's why you're suddenly upset with things."
A few minutes later, as I listened to Trish's breathing fall into a normal breathing pattern for a sleeping person, I lay awake a while thinking about what the nurse had said. I thought about the paradox of Trish's recovery actually making her more distressed. It made me think of one of the verse of Amazing Grace, "Twas grace that taught my heart to fear and grace my fears relieved." One of the best definitions of the process of recovery in the field of addictions involves four steps:
1. Unconscious incompetence (I screw up and don't know why)
2. Conscious incompetence (Now I know why I screw up)
3. Conscious competence (I don't screw up so much when I make myself focus on what I know I am supposed to do)
4. Unconscious competence (Most of the time I act in healthy ways without really thinking about it.)
Obviously, people at stage #1 & stage #4 of recovery are the most content people in the process! The folk in the other two steps may sometimes wish that they had remained unconscious of their incompetence! In recovery, people who "put their shoulder to the plow" must not look back. For once one becomes aware, there is no way to go but forward.
In addictions work, we often see family interventions. In these, one family member after another will say things to the addict like "Mom, you are addicted to pain medication. You are hurting all of us and we are tired of it." Or, "Sally, I am not sure I can live with you any more if you intend to keep using your drugs." For the addict, intervention feels like the worse day of his or her life. But it can be the beginning of a new and healthy life. The addict's self-created world gets shattered because it is a sick and counterfeit world and must be shattered. However, if it is the only world he or she knows, then for a while it will be difficult to imagine how life is going to work.
In the spiritual journey, those moments in which we become suddenly aware that we have been hateful, or selfish or a bore or addicted, are terribly difficult to bear, When these moments happen, we are actually making progress in our personal lives. Even though we feel worse we are actually getting better.
Grace teaches our hearts to fear before it moves to relieve our fears. We fear before we heal because we cannot heal ourselves and that vulnerability can be terrifying.
Last night, one of the nurses said, "Mrs. Scott, we are here because we want to serve you. If any of us had suffered what you have suffered, we would require the same care you are getting. We chose this profession because we are called to do this. We know that you are anxious tonight because you are getting better. You are a lady. Naturally, you are uncomfortable doing things ladies don't ordinarily do. But soon you will not have to do things like wear boots to bed. You have to wear them for a few more nights because you are still sick. You were so sick before that you didn't even care. Now that you are better, naturally you want to be totally well. But it is unfolding as it should. Be patient."
As these two servants of health and healing talked, Trish relaxed. Soon she was asleep. Amazing how a truthful explanation can soothe the soul.
"How precious did that grace appear the hour I first believed."
How gross our faults can appear to us the moment we are first willing to actually see them. We may have spent a lifetime not even believing we had faults. Then, for some reason, we receive grace to see our own faults as others see them. The sudden awareness of our own sinfulness and even wretchedness can be devastating. Even though our faults have been there all along and even though we realize that others are no different than we are, it is devastating to know that we are not in some kind of special category of sinlessness after all. We are in the same boat as all humanity and the things we hate in others have been in us all along. When we realize this, we naturally want to be completely well -- right now!
I hear the words of St. John's gospel, "God sent not His Son into the world to condemn the world but that through Him all might be saved." Without words like these, ignorance really would be bliss. One we hear them, our awareness of our own sin becomes an assurance that we are actually being saved. For the grace that makes us aware is the same grace that works mightily to relieve.
Consciousness has its price!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)