This seemed like deadline I might miss, the column that might not get written.
I thought my tank was just too empty.
A couple of months ago, I wrote about how I felt like I was standing on the rim of a “crater,” getting ready to walk down into and across some challenging terrain—two painful orthopedic surgeries within a span of six weeks.
As I write this, I’m in the middle of the crater and this hike has worn me slap out.
I had hip surgery on Friday the 13th (September) and my shoulder carved up on Halloween.
(At least no one can accuse me of being superstitious. Stupid maybe, but not superstitious.)
Why’d I do this? Well, both surgeries were necessary and it was financially advantageous to do both before the end of the year.
It’s been a bad year for my cartilage, tendons, and insurance company, and, once again, a good year for my orthopedic surgeons.
So here I am, laboriously hunting and pecking out these words with my left hand because my dominant right arm is in a sling.
Stringing together two coherent thoughts is a challenge and all kinds of body parts are angrily and incessantly screaming at me, “We do not like this, not one little bit!”
It’s all been more painful and inconvenient than I imagined it would be, but you know what’s worse than the pain and hassles? The shame I feel because I haven’t crossed this crater the way I wanted and intended to cross it.
Two months ago I wrote, “I didn’t know His (God’s) path would look like this path, but since it does, I now have some choices to make. I can’t always choose where I go, but I can choose how I go.
“I can go restfully, trusting the heart of the One who goes with me, or I can go fearfully, rebelliously, faithlessly, angrily, and miserably. I can receive His daily grace, lean on His presence and trust His purposes, or I can clench my teeth, shake my fist, close my heart, and simply endure it.
“… If my moment-by-moment goal is to bless God by crossing this crater graciously, patiently and faithfully, the journey may not be fun, but it can be good.”
Whatever else this column is, I know it must be honest. That means I must honestly confess that right now this journey doesn’t seem good at all and I feel like I’ve failed.
I haven’t been fearless, patient or trusting, as I wanted and intended to be.
And I haven’t consciously focused on blessing God every moment, or even most moments.
Yes, I’ve prayed, read Scripture, and mentally recited and given thanks every day for the many blessings in my life. And I’ve tried to keep my inner grouch in check for the sake of the poor souls who are helping me, especially my longsuffering husband who shall hereafter be known as St. Joe.
But fleshly gobs of frustration, self-pity, and disappointment still keep bubbling up to the surface from some dark place I’d rather imagine doesn’t exist in me.
So what do I do with this sense of failure?
All I know to do is to repent, accept God’s forgiveness, hang onto my faith and keep walking until I get to the other side.
When life is overwhelming, simply hanging on is in itself a victory.
I’m clinging to what I know, and what I know is this: God is good, He loves me, I love Him, and I’m going to heaven one day, but I’m definitely not there yet.
“For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that is to be revealed to us.” – Romans 8:18