Crash, But No Burn

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Details: After some abdominal surgery and I was ready to head home, I decided to get some exercise with quick walking through my hospital floor. Without realizing, my right foot tended to drag just slightly, catching that foot on the pavement and throwing me hard to the concrete.

My foot felt a bit wet, so I looked down to discover that my assumedly blue blood was crimson red, and lots of it. Within just a couple of seconds, many hands materialized to keep me still while analyzing my condition. With my bones apparently still in place, the medical folks hefted me from the floor and deposited me in a wheel chair.

After just a few more seconds they had me back in the hospital room and began sowing me back up. That began the most thorough testing I’ve ever seen. The first thing I noticed was my glasses’ left temple piece was flattened, preventing any good TV viewing. Next I discovered some internal brain bleeding, which is not a good thing. The news they gave me was I had better take no more falls, or that could kill me. Shortly thereafter I needed to go to the potty.

I awoke in bed after my unconscious crashing to the floor and bashing the bathroom door opened. At least that unintentional embarrassing movement failed to hurt my feelings. Then they had to code me. I didn’t even experience some white light upon entry to the nether world.

They questioned me about such complex issues like my name, which had temporally escaped my notice. Other amnesia-related questions such as my location and date were also beyond my grasp. I did, however, recognize my family, but without their names.

Things gradually came back to me. I still can’t remember the nursing home’s name or its location(mental block). But it does make sense hear it. The Thought Cops (mental therapist) practiced some of the most cruel exercises, like requiring the date and telling me what was on the pictures they showed me.

My driving was another issue. Until they decided I was in my right mind they refused to allow me to drive. And I don’t like cabs. After a couple months I now have permission to drive. What a wonderful convince.

Apparently my improvement will come slowly, and the experts tell me I’ll never get full recovery. People tell me that I’m so much better than I was, though it’s hard for me to see it. All I can do is praise God for what I have and not regret what I don’t have.

Uncle Jack on the Death of His Wife Joy

Obstacles to healing

With the death of a loved one, all reason, all preconceptions, all pat answers fly out the window. So it was when C.S. Lewis lost his beloved wife Joy after such a short time with her. Here is a brief excerpt from A Grief Observed, where he reexamined all he had come to believe about God. It’s not pretty, but it’s honest.

How often are you and I totally honest with God? Do you ever feel the urge to castigate God with every unkind adjective at your command? Do you ever find yourself doubting all the neat, Sunday school answers you called out while waving your hand in class? If not, you are living a synthetic life with your eyes tightly closed against all the temporal cruelty and pain this life deals us.

Lewis longed for assurance that Joy no longer suffered as she had in her life on Earth. And at the same time he needed to know that she missed him as much as he missed her. If you’ve ever lost someone you cherished, you’ve asked the same questions.

My council to anyone going through loss, whether it’s the death of a loved one, or the death of a relationship resulting in divorce, is not to just shut up and trust God. That’s the surest way of cutting off all communication with someone in that circumstance. I compare loosing a loved one with having a limb amputated; you never knew how much you valued that member until you lost it. Initially, you feel phantom pain and itching that you can’t scratch. You feel like it’s still there, but your heart sinks whenever you see that it’s gone. Leaning on its memory only keeps you immobile, but you don’t want to adapt to life without it.

Such grief is entirely natural, but that doesn’t make it any easier, and you want to slug anyone who tells you that you’ll get over it. You will never get that leg, arm, hand, finger, or loved one back, and you will never completely get used to their being gone. In time, though, God will broaden your perspective to include His view of your grief. You will realize how much He hates to see any of His loved ones lost to perdition because of our insistence on living our own way. You will come to appreciate His pain when He gave His only begotten Son over to sinful men to be ridiculed, tortured, and murdered to save you, because He loved you all that much.

Uncle Jack grew from his profound grief to become an even greater giant of the faith that gave him peace in his loss. If you haven’t experienced such loss, brace yourself; it’s coming. But also, prepare yourself for the unspeakable blessing to follow.

C.S. Lewis on Bereavement

Joy and Jack

14 July 1960 in a letter to Peter Bide

Joy died at 10 o’clock last night in the [hospital]. I was alone with her at the moment, but she was not conscious. I had never seen the moment of natural death before. It was far less dreadful than I had expected—indeed there’s nothing to it. Pray for her soul. I have prayed twice daily of late for us four together—you and Margy and me and Joy. I shall continue for you two.

I can’t understand my loss yet and hardly (except for brief but terrible moments) feel more than a kind of bewilderment, almost a psychological paralysis. A bit like the first moments after being hit by a shell.

I’d like to meet. Perhaps I could come up to town some day when you are in town and take you to lunch at the Athenaeum. For I am—oh God that I were not—very free now. One doesn’t realise in early life that the price of freedom is loneliness. To be happy one must be tied. God bless all three of us.

That Uncle Jack felt much as I did two years and nine months ago at once surprises me, and doesn’t. I’m sure that Lewis would agree with me as to the ambiguous emotions that I yet experience when recalling Nancy’s death. As soon as I think I’m finally over the loss, something happens, like the above excerpt from Lewis’ correspondence, that trounces upon my still-sensitive wound. In fact, that is exactly what such loss is, as when a major organ is ripped from your body. It isn’t a surgically precise incision, either. Rather, it reminds me of one of the Indiana Jones flicks, where this evil, demonic priest reaches into the chest of his sacrificial victim, grabs the man’s still-beating heart, and slowly withdraws it. Only in my case, my heart wasn’t removed, but the intangible essence of the woman to whom I gave my heart.

So, why do I want to repeat that process. Why do I pray for God to place another woman in my life, a kindred spirit with whom I can share all of my trivial, seamy, traumatic, joyful, and exciting thoughts, and the moments in time that stimulate them? As much as I dislike some aspects of my temperament and thought-life, I need to share them with one who is willing to love me as doggedly as does my Savior, to whom I can be accountable, and who will give me that loyal boot in the tush that I need so badly. Yet, through my failed attempts at meeting that need I’ve learned to allow God to search for such an exceptional person. What he wants for me is infinitely better than anything, or anyone, that I could flush out of life’s bramble bushes.

Father God, in the name of your only begotten Son Jesus, I ask you for whatever you deem best for me. Though I feel the need for a woman meet for me, and feel it badly, I yield to your infinite wisdom in that, and every other matter in my life. Your love for me is unfathomable, as you gave your Son over to the cross’s curse, just to wash away my sin and reconcile me to yourself, so I trust your every judgment in every area of my life. 

I thank you, Father, for hearing and answering my prayer in any way that you see fit. As your handmaiden responded to you, “Let it be done unto me according to your word.”

One year alone, has it been just that?
Since she happily gave back her tent.
Not that she was ever ungrateful,
Though, if anyone, she might’ve had that right.

Betrayed by body and temperament,
By family and man, but never by God.
To those who cared, she was Bounceback Queen,
But Jesus named her, daughter of I Am.

Unloved, unwanted by the woman who bore her,
A new family waited to give her God’s love.
Earthly father and mother, thanked God for small blessing,
Furnished the love she needed to grow.

God gave and took away to shape little Nancy,
Into the daughter He made her to be.
Strong, some say willful, but in God’s timeless view,
Not more than she needed to meet life’s trials.

Further abandonment by the one God gave
To be with her one flesh, and Christ’s head.
Left Nancy to prove faithful, unaided, but able,
To fill the role, single mother of two.

Empty nest nearly killed her; adrift and sick,
She made her mistakes, believing grief’s lies.
Needy, defenseless, relationships came.
Selfish men took advantage, and left but a shell.

Through all of this, God’s perfect plan moved;
He showed His ways strange indeed,
Taking two needy people, and changing them both,
To one He gave trust, to the other, taught love.

One year has now passed since God took what He gave,
A solitary year of reflection and trust.
A year to learn who I am without Nancy
Depending on me to help lighten her load.

As Nancy once sought her Rudder when left
Adrift on life’s undulating sea,
Even now, sailing through dense fog of night,
I search for the Bright, Morning Star.

As Captain directs my way through the mist,
Bidding me sail not by sight, but faith,
My way seems elusive, my circumstance strange,
Green water fights headway as I steer on the Light.

Though my course is unsteady, and I’m shipping water,
My sail tattered by ever present gale,
Yet, my Savior comes to me as to disciples of old,
And will utter his blessing, “Peace, be still.”

A Friend

Loves you when you are unlovable
Stays with you when you want to be
alone
Challenges you when you lapse into
self-pity

Treasures you when you feel worthless

Cares for you when you couldn’t care
less

Supports you when you’re out of
balance

Guards you when you feel vulnerable

Grieves with you when you suffer loss

Cries with you when you’re hurt

Defends you when you’re at fault

Gives all when you’re in need

Keeps listening to you when you prattle

Kristy’s Lament

My heart broke, today, for a young woman in Southeastern Australia whose beloved husband was jerked out of this life in a freak(some would say freaking) boating accident. Somehow, she pulled herself together enough to report the tragedy in her blog, South East Country Wife. I appreciate Bonnie Calhoun’s notice in her e-mailed newsletter from the Christian Fiction Blog Alliance.