For the LOVE of LEFTY

(This post originally appeared on my A Heart 4 Heaven blog back in January, which explains why it is a little dated and somewhat a repeat of information. But it works well for my "L" and the point is still true, so I decided a re-post was right on cue!)

It happened as quickly as the briefest space between words. One minute I was chatting amiably with my coworker, John, as he walked me out to my car, and the next I was flat on my back on the parking lot, wondering how on earth I managed to slip on snow that yet barely covered the ground.

We'd been thinking about the weather all evening, my friend Tracy and I, both of us having landed late-night shifts that day. The storm was supposed to start just before we'd be clocking out, and we wondered what the roads would be like by the time we were ready to leave. Since neither of us are very good at bad-weather driving, we encouraged each other as best we could, pushing aside the negative vibes from customers who told us the snowflakes were already starting to fly. “We're going to be fine,” I told Tracy repeatedly, and she nodded her head in agreement each time.

Later we laughed at the fact that getting home hadn't been the problem at all; for me at least the issue was just getting to my car. After John had helped me up, brushed me off and safely deposited me and my grocery bags at my vehicle, a quick evaluation revealed that my right elbow was not functioning properly, yet somehow I drove one-handed through the increasing storm on snow-covered roads with no problem.

And so began an adventure into left-handedness, a journey I never imagined I'd take, but one that has surprised me with unexpected blessings. My left-handed husband was almost gleeful as he told me in the emergency room a few hours later that I was finally going to learn to see things from his point of view. The registration clerk smiled in agreement as she wrote notes on a pad, likewise with her left hand.

My own left extremity has gamely entered into the fray, accepting the challenge and excelling in its execution. It has conquered a variety of tasks, accepting help from other body parts as needed. From opening flip-top cans to tightly screwed-on lids to spreading butter on bread to cutting food into bite-sized pieces to safely depositing them into my mouth instead of on my shirt-front...one by one it has accomplished them all. Finding itself responsible for personal hygiene tasks it once sat idly through, it can now squeeze toothpaste onto an unsteady toothbrush, then brush teeth, comb hair, and wash and dress the body like it had been doing so for years. The dogs are still fed, the cat's litter box is clean, sheets are changed, and floors are vacuumed, just as before. As we come to the end of the second week after my injury, I look at my left hand with new-found pride and appreciation.

Funny, I've been looking at my husband the same way. He, too, has stepped into roles he hasn't had to play in the extent of our 34-year marriage, but he has done so with willingness and grace, despite an already busy schedule and full plate. He has sat in emergency rooms, by hospital bedsides and at doctor's offices, despite a distaste for medical procedures of any kind. He canceled meetings, worked on his laptop from home and made up work hours on weekends that used to be spent on his to-do lists, rather than mine. In recent days he's become my chauffeur, personal chef, and fashion advisor, even digging through his own closet for old pajama tops and button-up shirts that could be altered to accommodate a bulky cast. The kicker came when he volunteered to help me curl my hair...not because my looks bothered him, but because the inability to do it myself bothered me. For two weeks straight he has barely given a thought to himself in his efforts to make sure I am safe and supplied with everything I need. Because he has had to step into roles he's never had to play, I've seen sides of him I hadn't ever seen before, and have simply found new things to love about my left-handed man as a result.

Perhaps that is the silver lining to all the difficulties we face; the change in perspective they offer us. We go through our lives on auto-pilot much of the time until something happens that suddenly changes life as we know it and forces us to re-examine that which we formerly took for granted. The blessing of unexpected difficulty is the opportunity it provides to see life in a new way and grow somehow as a result. I've heard it preached many times that if our first instinct is to ask God what we can learn from the situation when trouble strikes, what was a challenge becomes instead a chance to improve ourselves. Suddenly we are faced with a choice as to how we are going to look at the days to come. We can either just survive the situation and strive to get back to where we were, or we can instead use it as a stepping stone to a life of greater victory and happiness on down the road. Every need in our life simply gives us a new view of God as He responds to it and another reason to love Him more. The wisdom behind the Bible's admonition to give thanks in every situation lies in the fact that blessings surround every difficult happenstance if we just have eyes to see them and avail ourselves of the opportunities they present.

Initially I was going to wait till the fast-approaching Valentine holiday to tell my husband how much I love him and have appreciated his care and help in recent days. But that's yet a month away. By then my right arm will be quickly taking on its old tasks and resuming its former dominance, and I don't want to forget the lessons I'm learning along the way. The proper response to any challenge is to first give thanks for its hidden blessings... today.

“God loves to crown difficulty with blessing. He works everything out for good. Our part is to abide in the beauty and power of His love and remain firmly on purpose.”

- Graham Cooke

Working for KROGER and the KING

A ten-year employee of my local Kroger grocery store, I am one of the lucky ones in life who loves her job. But who also doesn't love a break in the work schedule and the gift of some unexpected free time? When my doctor told me initially to expect to be off for six to eight weeks following surgery, my eyes popped at the thought of all I might accomplish in that time period. The need for additional surgery extended my sick leave, and to date it's been three months and more since I last clocked in for a shift.

Through it all, Kroger has been terrific to me. Processing paperwork to arrange for a leave of absence from work and to set up short-term disability payments was surprisingly simple; a few phone calls and the matter was done. Paychecks came in the mail, my medical insurance started paying my bills, and my boss and coworkers checked in with me regularly to see how I was doing and to offer their support. When my manager assured me that they would hold my job for me despite the delays to my return-to-work date, I was able to focus on recovery and leave the worry over my employment status behind.

While I have enjoyed the time off immensely, increasingly in recent weeks I have felt that I really need to get back to work. Three forces pushing me in that direction are gratitude, a sense of indebtedness, and the simple enjoyment of the job itself. This surprising encounter with the medical profession has really caused me to appreciate how much the company offers in the way of help and assistance in a time of need. I hadn't realized how good our benefits package was until I had occasion to use it. Besides the very real need to cover the insurance premiums I missed while on disability, I am anxious to get back and offer my best in return for the company's giving me theirs. And I have sorely missed the camaraderie of my coworkers and the kindness of the customers I serve on a daily basis while I've been away. It's simply time to go back.

There have likewise been times through the years when I've been sidelined in my service to God and the spiritual community for various reasons. A difficult situation in one church required a period of rest and healing before investing again in another. A move to a new house of worship necessitated the establishment of new contacts with pastors and church leaders before ministry opportunities could open up. And there have been simple “times of refreshing” as described in the Bible where I just needed to take a break and be ministered to myself so I would have something to offer to somebody else.

The same three forces have always propelled me back into the spiritual work force, however. Overwhelming gratitude to God for all He has done for me through the years is chief among those. He has come through for me in ways I couldn't have imagined before coming to know Him, and daily I grow in gratitude for His kindness and compassion. I am also very aware, however, that my life is no longer my own. I now willingly serve the One who paid the price for my salvation and all the resultant joy of that experience. And frankly, there is no greater joy than discovering and operating in my God-given-gifts to those I meet on a daily basis; working for God is simply great fun.

Later this morning I go to the doctor, and today I expect him to finally sign the paper releasing me to go back to work. Now physically as well as spiritually, I'm ready to buckle down and get back on the job.

“...aspire to lead a quiet life, to mind your own business, and to work with your own hands...”

(1 Thessalonians 4:11 NKJV)

The Water JUG

Sometimes the most effective advice is the simplest.

After two months in physical therapy, I now have an impressive collection of assigned exercises and workout equipment to use in the process of straightening out my recuperating arm. Multiple sheets of paper detail how to stretch the muscles correctly as well as how many exercise repetitions to perform per set, and how many sets to do per day. A plastic shopping bag holds the rubber stretchy bands, the weights, the towels and even the hammer I use as aids in the accomplishment of this routine. And yet it was my doctor rather than my therapist who gave me the advice that seems to have helped the most.

“Get an empty gallon jug, and fill it with a couple of inches of water. Then let it hang from the hand of your injured arm, and the weight of the water will gradually pull your arm straight. Just let gravity do its thing,” he said.

“That's it?”, I wondered. Just let it hang? No movement? No pictures? No other instructions? Could it really be that easy? And after years of fighting the effects of gravity on my body, was I really supposed to now partner up with it and let it have its way? It all just seemed a little bogus to me. But because I trust the doctor, I gave it a try. And while other exercises have come and gone since he first gave me that advice, that one strategy has proven most effective in helping to straighten my arm.

I wonder why we think something has to be complicated to be effective. We tend to shy away from the easy answer, the quick fix, the solution that doesn't require a whole lot of sweat and effort on our part. We stubbornly hang on to the thought that if it's our problem then its solution is up to us, and we have to do something to make it right. And actually, we couldn't be farther from the truth.

The best solution when trouble hits is to take it to God. Usually we do this as a last resort rather than a first response. After we have tried and failed to fix things on our own, in desperation we turn to the One we should have gone to in the first place. There is a reason He is called our Counselor. And what does He ask of us, but that we place the matter in His hands and then believe that He has the power and the desire to handle it for us...simple instructions that seem too easy to be a true and yet are surprisingly difficult to follow. What finally sways us is the trust we have in the One Who spoke the words. Do we trust Him enough to put the things most dear to us in His hands and allow Him to straighten out what we couldn't fix on our own? The real issue at hand is not whatever difficulty we're dealing with at the time but our relationship with the Problem Solver Himself. If we focus our time, effort and attention in in developing that connection, we'll find that God is more than capable of handling the rest.

“Be anxious for nothing, but in all things, through prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which passes all understanding, shall guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.”

(Philippians 4:6,7)

The Assurance of INSURANCE

Surprisingly, the most painful part of my elbow ordeal was not physical in nature, but worry over how we would handle the extra medical expenses while dealing with my reduced income. I knew from past outpatient surgeries that bills would bombard us from every direction, from equipment suppliers to x-ray technicians to anesthesiologists to the doctor himself. Add the cost of emergency room services and even just a one-night hospital stay, and I knew the total could well be financially overwhelming. I reminded myself that I had insurance, but we had never really had occasion to test it. Our claims to date had been small ones; visits to the doctor that were usually preventative in nature, costing us nothing, or that resulted in small bills that we could easily handle. I waited nervously for the first bills to arrive.

Thankfully the billing process is a slow one, and I was able to put the worry aside to concentrate on the more important process of recuperation. Still, my stomach clenched the first time I opened the mailbox and found an Explanation of Benefits from the insurance company inside. Nervously I ripped open the envelope and hurriedly scanned the pages inside.

“Wow! That's not so bad...”, I said in relief. As the EOBs continued to arrive in the days that followed, that initial response was followed by a “That's great!”, an “Are you kidding me?!” ...as well as happy dances in my kitchen when the “biggies” arrived! Thanks to my insurance coverage, charges originally in the thousands and tens of thousands of dollars had miraculously diminished into totals that I could either pay outright or effectively manage over time. I was thrilled, and such good news surely sped the recovery process along. When a second surgery was scheduled, I didn't give the financial aspect of the situation a thought, knowing now that my insurance company had my back.

Some of us likewise worry about the quality and strength of our faith. We simply haven't had occasion to put our trust in God's Word to the test. When trouble hits, we wonder if our belief system will be strong enough to sustain us in a difficult time.

The Bible tells us that initially we are all given a measure of faith. That faith works like a muscle that grows stronger with repeated use. Eventually it is built up to the point that it can sustain the blows of doubt and discouragement that the enemy likes to throw our way, becoming the bedrock on which we build our lives and set our hopes for the future. Because of our growing personal history of the faithfulness of God, we no longer worry about what we may face tomorrow – we can look back on what he did for us yesterday and simply give thanks for His presence in our lives today. Whatever the quality of our earthly insurance, we're always in good hands with God.

“Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”

(Hebrews 11:1 KJV)

A HOSPITABLE HOSPITAL

The number of times I've stayed overnight in a hospital can be counted on  the fingers of one hand. While I'm grateful I haven't had occasion to sleep over more often, my hospital stays have been relatively joyous events – the birthing of children, a procedure to stop the birthing of children, and lately, my emergency elbow surgery.

Few people associate a hospital stay with the word joy. Successful, perhaps. Complicated, maybe. Painful, almost certainly. But joyous? Not so much.

Several factors contributed to make my recent hospital experience a happy one. Monitoring my level of pain was a primary concern. I was well cared for by a host of people, from a a doctor I trusted to a diligent nursing staff. And visitors! Not one, but two pastors stopped by from my church to make sure I was okay and to pray with me. My husband juggled working on his computer from the hospital waiting room with running back and forth to the house to check on our dogs with fetching me electronic gadgetry of various kinds. And my youngest son had just started driving back to his Louisiana home when he got the text message about my elbow; he turned his car right back around and was sitting in my room, flowers in hand, when I returned there from the recovery room! He ended up spending the night with me, his lengthy frame folded into the hard plastic recliner next to the bed. We cheered a local college basketball team on to victory and watched a favorite movie, all the while laughing and chatting a good deal of the night away. The next morning...breakfast in bed!...along with not one but three cups of coffee to combat the caffeine deprivation I was only just beginning to feel. What's not to like? I still smile at the memory, weeks after the fact.

Many people find themselves as reluctant to enter a church as they are to walk through the doors of a hospital. Previous experiences may have been painful for them for one reason or another, and they are reluctant to put themselves in a similar situation again, however badly they may need the services offered. Many only do so in desperation, when the pain they are carrying in their hearts becomes more than they can carry alone.

God never intended for His house to be anything but a place of hope and healing, restoration and joy, a place where hurting people are welcomed and invited to find the help they need. And the ones that are successful in meeting those goals have much in common with a good hospital. They offer real life solutions to pain and and chains of various kinds that people can't seem to overcome on their own. They are staffed by capable and caring individuals who are operating in their God-given gifts of service to others. Fellowship is readily available and encouraged, to lighten the heart and strengthen the bonds between family and friends. Great spiritual food is served up on a regular basis, and attenders are taught how to find such sustenance for themselves. Follow-up and feedback are words they are not just familiar with, but work into their schedules.

When scheduling the second surgery on my elbow, my doctor asked me which hospital I preferred, as he worked out of several in the local area. While they all offer the same basic services, each is a little different in the way they do things. And the same is true of most churches; the same God operates in them all, which one you choose is mainly a matter of personal preference. As with my elbow, sometimes one visit simply isn't enough. The important thing is to keep looking until you get the help you need... and a smile on your face that refuses to fade away.

“The church is not a museum for saints but a hospital for sinners.”

-Morton T. Kelsey

GRATITUDE for the Little Things

My daily journal entries have been a little different of late. Normally I start my devotional time with a review of the past twenty-four hours and a listing of things I am thankful for, just to get my thinking started along the right track. But since my elbow injury at the start of the year, my entries (when I could write them, lol) have been different, smaller in scope and more specific in detail. “Got three curlers in my hair today!” was a biggie. “A six degree change in my arm extension at the therapist's office!” read another. “Flossed my teeth for the first time in...” well, never mind. No need to gross you out when you're kind enough to read my blog. But who ever took the time to realize that it takes two fully functioning hands to be able to floss one's teeth?! I surely didn't. It was just one of those things I did without thinking as I prepared for the more important moments of the day. Now those little victories have become my day.

God has used this circumstance to reinforce what I read last year in Ann Voskamp's bestseller, One Thousand Gifts. A life-changing read, it details her journey from a mere existence into a fully-lived life by finding joy and expressing gratitude for the very smallest elements in it. More than just noticing those moments as they blew by, she captured them, on paper, sometimes with her camera, and always in her heart. By giving thanks for each one she allowed the love of the Gifter to fill her life with joy...on a moment to moment basis. And then she went on the hunt for more!

My biggest worry in my lengthy recovery time surprisingly has not been about whether my elbow would ever be fully functional again, or whether my employer would hold my job, or where the money would come from to pay my bills. It's been about wasting this unexpected gift of time off from work I've been given. I've made lists and then fretted when items haven't been crossed off and rooms remain cluttered and others' expectations haven't been met. Yet my journal entries have shown me that in God's eyes, at least, I've gotten it right.

We've all been given just a limited amount of time on the earth. With our career paths mapped out and our bucket lists getting longer by the day, we're on the run to get it all done before time is called. And yet, it's not about the length of time we're given but what we do with those moments that counts. God can use a setback of some sort to take our eyes off our futures and set them squarely on today. The secret to not wasting a lifetime is to not waste a day. Perhaps the biggest blessing of this whole situation for me is learning that giving gratitude for the little things... is really the biggest thing there is.

“In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.”

(1 Thessalonians 5:18 KJV)

FAMILY and FRIENDS

A little encouragement is a wonderful thing. 

The size of the situations we deal with is irrelevant; anything that happens to us is important in our own eyes, however minor it may seem to the rest of the world. Whether it's something as simple as a bad day on the job or as weighty as a frightening diagnosis from a doctor, the support of the people around us has a huge impact on the attitude with which we face the struggle.

My elbow surgery ranked among the minor maladies, yet the attention I received from the people around me was a huge blessing. Phone calls, text messages, flowers, visits, get-well gifts, cards in the mail, Facebook posts...it's no wonder I went around with a smile on my face while my arm was yet wrapped in a cast. I felt absolutely blessed that so many people cared.

Christians are not immune from trouble in this world; the Bible says in this life we will have tribulation. But Christ tells us that we can face it with fortitude because He dealt with the problem of our isolation on the Cross. More painful than the physical wounds He endured, perhaps, were the moments when God turned His head away because Jesus had covered Himself with the sin of the world. Jesus experienced the abandonment of God so that we would never have to. His death purchased the promise that God would never leave us or forsake us. We are not alone.

God has placed us in His family, surrounded us with a built-in support group of other believers whose job it is to love and care for us as together we make our way Home. He has filled His Word with examples of people who have gone before us, their stories detailed to encourage and inspire us. And He has given us the Holy Spirit to be our best friend, our Counselor, Healer, Comforter...the answer to our every need. We are not alone.

That's plenty to smile about, right there. :)

“Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us”

(Hebrews 12:1)