My Cold, My Mobility, My Pain, My Menopause
Writer Author April Boyer
- Fiction No
"My cold is the worst in history. I was sick in bed and couldn't move for days." This has been heard in our house. Jack's cold, of course, could not possibly be as bad or as debilitating as my own cold.
"My hot flashes are driving me crazy! Stay out of my way!" Jack could not be expected to respond in this.
"My mobility is so poor today." My pain is keeping me down." These were also statements that were overheard.
I'd have to pinch myself when making such a statement, and ask: "Who am I?"
Am I the sum of my parts, or worse - the package of my complaints, real or imagined?
I'd hate to think that I AM the fibro-myalgia, the arthritis, the diabetes, the IBS, the menopause. I'd hate to think that I AM the slow moving, creaking, pained or cranky creature.
Nor do I want to sound like I own those ailments! It is not my fibro-myalgia, it is not my arthritis., it is certainly not my menopause. I certainly don't want to lay claim to any of these problems. However, that's what I'm doing.
It is my attitude that others see. It is my attitude that determines how I handle these issues. It is my attitude that, ultimately, says who I am.
I know that there are many and varied disabling and painful conditions in this world, that are far worse than mine. I cannot presume that you, in your situation, will be made better, or lighter, or different by your attitude. Yet, it is our spirit and our heart's responses that determine who we are.
A friend has a disease that re-introduces itself in its worst form as she grows older. It takes her hours to get up in the morning and just accomplish her personal needs, a few small tasks, and then get ready for supper. I received her Christmas letter, which was unlike most that I had seen, or written. I did not read about Gretchen the polio victim. I read about acquaintances, about their prayer needs, about a bible study and the young palsy victim to whom she was able to minister. I read about Gretchen's adventures in her wheel chair outings- though small in my eyes, were amazing and great accomplishments in her own. I read about books and movies she'd enjoyed, and the failed recipe she and her father laughed over.
In other words, I had a look at Gretchen, her life, the people who touched her, and how she'd spent Christmas. Never once did I see Gretchen's polio. It was there, in her slow movements and the treasured moments that actually took hours. It was evident in her medical limitations. But I did not see them in her letter.
At a gathering some time ago, Gretchen was presented to several unknown visitors. She was pointed out across the room not as the lady in the wheelchair. She was introduced as the silver-haired lady with the bright smile, the lady with the small, expressive hands.
I hope to be introduced to someone as the lady with the flashy hair, the smiling eyes, the subtle sense of humor, the pen and pad in her hand. I want to be known more as the lady who has a heart for Jesus and for others. I am determined not to be that lady with the cold, the lady with the arthritis, or the lady with the sharp temper (aka hot flashes). They are not mine, and they are not me. I hope no-one mistakes me for that lady.
Who are you?
2Cr 12:9 And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.
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