The spinal block for Rebecca has not kicked in yet. The doctors are ‘confident’ it will work but state it could be a week or so before the nerves respond.
I am used to waiting. Waiting builds patience. And waiting allows me time to contemplate life – a luxury I am rarely afforded in my out-of-the-hospital days.
While contemplating, I started to notice two vastly different points of view from my fellow sojourners living within the walls of a medical institution:
*Life is terrible or
*Life has terrific meaning
But what I found most baffling and strangely fantastic, is that I live around so many dying and yet even those who are dying find a way to live far more passionately than me.
As Norman Mailer once wrote, we are “living a little more or dying a little bit” in each moment of our existence.
I have no excuse.
Regardless of my circumstance, despite my condition, and notwithstanding my current location, I have every ability to reside in the ‘life has terrific meaning’ category.
And so I made a list of how I desire to ‘live a little more’…
- I want to love fearlessly.
- I want to be the first to apologize, forgiving with full abandon in spite of the wrongs I may have endured.
- I want to stop praying for an ease-filled life and start praying for a God-led life. Even if my Lord is leading me into uncomfortable territory.
- I want to look to the inside before being distracted by the outside, in the hopes I can recognize broken hearts and provide a salve to ease the pain.
- I want to focus on joy instead of happiness. Happiness is fleeting, but joy resides in the spirit.
- I want to lower my expectations of life and the lives of others, while raising my expectations of the Creator of the Universe. My God is capable of doing immeasurably more than I ask or imagine.
- I want to kiss every misbehaving child and hug every crabby adult and hold every crying soul that comes across my path – God only knows how much they need it.
- I want to ask God to use my situation instead of constantly asking Him to fix my situation.
- I want to host without fretting over the appearance of my ‘home’ whether it be a disheveled hospital room or a disorganized house. My guests deserve to feel welcome.
- I want to get dirty – whether sporting grass stains from rolling down a hill with children, or paint from helping someone move, or blood from comforting a wounded patient – I don’t want ‘mess’ to deter me from serving.
- I want to pray to be given additional friends that need to see Jesus instead of friends that already know Jesus.
- I want to spend my life being used to the fullest capacity my Lord created me for. Even if that capacity involves nothing more than rocking an abused child to sleep in the adjacent hospital room.
Warm Starbucks drinks, convenient grocery hours, safe neighborhoods, life outside of a hospital, a good night’s sleep, employment, justice, freedom, shelter, food, clean water, and even good health are entitlements I was never promised.
I am promised a Jesus whose love cannot be separated from me. I am promised grace for all my past and present faults. I am promised heaven – forever.
And those three promises are enough for me to live my life just a ‘little more’ unexpected and a ‘little more’ miraculous every day….
Thank you Lord.