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 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 in 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 few weeks 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
I'm a lefty too, so parts of this post made me smile. -) Glad you are on the mend. I can relate to much of your thoughts here about how God works in our lives. :-)
ReplyDeleteI have heard from SO MANY LEFTIES since writing this post! I'm beginning to think you guys are in the majority rather than the other way around! Thanks for reading!
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