Thursday, October 5
Today, Abby and I were scheduled to be chaperones for our granddaughter, Della Rose, and her classmates during their visit to nearby Ramseyer Pumpkin Farm. However, the rainy weather caused rescheduling of the event; and produced a disappointed granddaughter and grandma. To brighten our morning, I suggested to Abby that we go out for breakfast at Bob Evans. As we walked toward the register to pay our bill, I noticed a familiar face in a nearby booth and remember thinking that I had seen this gentleman at our church. I made a mental note and thought no more of this passing encounter. In the afternoon, we drove to Akron to attend the cross country meet of our older granddaughter, Kiara. Afterwards, we celebrated her personal best time with her and her family. While in Akron, we stopped to visit my friend, Bill, who had just had right hip replacement surgery that afternoon. He was still in recovery so we left a card for him and drove home to Wooster.
Saturday, October 7
I began this crisp, autumn morning with an encouraging time of fellowship over a warm breakfast with my Christian brother, Brad. Then, while Abby was running her errands, I returned to Akron to visit my friend, Bill, now in his third day of recovery from hip surgery. He was in good spirits and was managing his pain very well. After our brief conversation, I prayed with Bill and his wife, and then left the hospital. As I was leaving, I sensed that God’s Spirit was pressing me to take account of the thoughts and intentions of my heart for visiting Bill. This was not the first time that I was humbled about my efforts to encourage a friend in the midst of pain and suffering. Taking a personal stock in this area usually centers around three basic questions, each probing successively deeper into my faith and its outworking in my life.
The primary question that pressed upon my mind as I walked from Bill’s room was, How real is your empathy and compassion toward Bill? I had to acknowledge immediately that my level of empathy was limited by the degree to which I had been “walking in Bill’s shoes.” After all, how could I actually see life through the eyes and body of a man who had experienced years of pain while walking with an arthritic hip and then endured the pain of a hip replacement? Because of my limited empathy, my compassion, or the depth of my desire to help my friend was also limited to visiting him and attempting to encourage him. Having not been involved in farming since my boyhood, I was limited in my ability to assist those people who had volunteered to harvest Bill’s crops and care for his livestock.
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| How can we empathize with and extend compassion to loved ones without having "walked in their shoes?" |
My second question also stems from my good health and lack of experience with pain and suffering. The voice inside asked me, John, how genuine is your faith? Sure, I had much experience pointing suffering family members and friends to God as a source of hope and healing. But, how did I know how strong my faith would be when my time came to face pain and suffering? My answer has to be, “I do not know if my faith in God will remain strong.”
Finally, the third question that has pressed upon my mind over the years is the most challenging of all—How do you know that God will be faithful when you need Him most? Surely, I have known God’s presence and comfort during times of decision, loss, loneliness, conflict in relationships, and emotional stress. But, would I know assuredly that God had not forsaken me when I encountered my own suffering and pain? Little did I know that God was already orchestrating a situation that would eventually provide me with answers to all three of my questions.
Sunday, October 8
Abby and I were blessed to attend our 8:30 am Sunday School class at West Hill Baptist Church, taught by Pastor Eric Fairhurst. Our lesson was from Luke 21 which records the words of Jesus as He described the signs and future events that would occur in and around Jerusalem and beyond. We were challenged to be alert “when these things begin to take place.” Then, in our traditional worship service, Pastor Dan Wingate presented a message from Colossians 3: 12-17 entitled, “Putting on the Best Clothing.” Verse 12 introduces a list of important Christian virtues and character traits for Christ-followers to “put on” as we yield to the Holy Spirit’s work in our lives: So, as those who have been chosen of God, holy and beloved, put on a heart of compassion…etc.
That morning, I did not immediately connect a biblical text beginning with the subject of compassion to my own question about the genuineness of my compassion following my hospital visit yesterday. However, I was soon to be on the receiving end of compassion in an unexpected way.
After the service, we greeted some friends, then walked together into the church parking lot. As I scanned the lot to locate our Tacoma, I spotted the same gentleman that I had recognized in Bob Evans on Thursday. I raised my hand to wave him to a stop. We greeted one another and exchanged names while remembering that we had just crossed paths in Bob Evans three days earlier. Our conversation was then interrupted by a forceful blow on my left side which was the first of several painful impacts I felt, resulting in my body being either thrown to the ground; or, more likely, twisted so that my right hip was thrown against the side of my friends car before I landed on my left side on the ground.
Needless to say, my viewpoint immediately changed. While lying helpless in a fetal position, unable to move, I could only look up. Whereas, moments before I had viewed my church family from my usual position of height and strength, I was now forced to look up at them in helpless dependence. My view was filled with the concerned faces of my church family gathering to help and console me. The dear lady whose car had struck me was soon at my shoulder with profuse apologies. Another person cradled my head, while yet another asked if I could move. I remained conscious but could not move my right leg. While someone dialed 911, another man began to lead in a prayer for God’s provision. As I looked up at a sea of loving faces, a friend brought a green blanket to support my head, and others had gathered around Abby to pray.
That afternoon, my X-rays indicated that my hip was shattered and that I would need a total right hip replacement. The operation was performed by the skillful hands of a surgeon who was also a man of faith. I was so richly encouraged when he took my hand and prayed with me at the end of our pre-op consultation.
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| Looking confident, but supported by prayers and resting in the unseen arms of God. |
During the night and the next couple of days, I was made comfortable by medical
staff who each served me with professionalism and compassion. During this time, I sensed as never before
the nearness of God—so comforted and strengthened by the faithful prayers of
family, church family, and friends. I
believe God used these days of discomfort and dependence, and days of being
weak while learning to become stronger, in order to provide the very experience
I so greatly needed and wanted--experience I had missed as the one usually
standing above others who experienced pain and dependence.
The doctor, nurses, and aides kept track of my pain level and encouraged me not to shirk on taking Oxycodone so that I would not “get behind” in managing the pain. Because pain has been such an infrequent visitor in my life, I did not want to insulate myself too much from it. Thankfully, an occasional Tylenol was enough to moderate my pain. Though I felt weak and physically dependent, I remembered the words of Gordon T. Smith that had so interested me just a few weeks before. Smith notes that it is when we accept and even embrace the experience of pain and suffering that we are most receptive to the outpouring of God’s wondrous, boundless love. Though I am unworthy to compare my light brush with suffering to that of the Apostle Paul, I learned a new appreciation of his writing in Romans 5: 3-5 NASB (emphasis mine):
And not only this, but we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts [ESV: “poured into our hearts”] through the Holy Spirit who was given to us.
Reflections during Recovery:
Although I could have gone home on Tuesday, Abby and I agreed that I should spend a few days in the Transitional Care Unit to undergo some physical therapy and increase my readiness for life back home. During these days of recovery, I revisited the three questions that had challenged me in years past and which had especially pressed upon me only days before my injury. As I reflect on my own suffering and recovery, am beginning to understand more clearly the nature of sincere compassion, the genuineness of my own faith in God, and the faithfulness of Jesus, my Savior.
While lying on my back in absolute dependence upon medical staff and then during my transitional care, God was making me a more humble, open vessel to receive His loving compassion through the care of these dear servants. I am now praying that the Father of mercies and God of all comfort Who comforts us in our affliction will make me into a better steward of His comfort and compassion so that I will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God (2 Corinthians 1: 3-4). In short, it’s ultimately not about my compassion but my openness as a channel of God’s compassion.
Second, having never experienced serious pain and suffering, I used to wonder how my own faith in God would fare in the day it finally came. My wondering ended on October 8. Thanks to God’s grace as manifested in the many ways I have recounted above, my faith did not waver. I do not make this claim because I felt the strong “flexing of the muscles” of my faith in my time of need. Instead, my faltering faith was lifted up by the strong arms of God—loving arms that protected me bodily when I was struck on my left side, wrestled about, and dropped on my left side without a bruise—loving arms that worked though all the actions of my church family, and then the compassionate, medical care-givers. Again, it’s ultimately not about “my faith” but God’s imparting of the gift of faith to me (Ephesians 2: 8).
Finally, I had no reason to question the faithfulness of my Savior, Jesus Christ. Like the comforting, compassionate care that I remember receiving one morning from an aide who covered me with a freshly warmed blanket, so the loving arms and gentle voice of the Savior left me no doubt about His faithfulness and abiding presence. Much more than feeling warm fuzziness, God’s manifest presence was made real as His Spirit spoke to me in words from Scripture—words that He brought freely into my consciousness from memory, such as Isaiah 41: 10:
Do not fear, for I am with you;
Do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you, surely I will help you,
Surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.
Or, the words of Psalm 23 that I had read many times in the past, and heard in utterances from the quivering lips of family and friends as I stood at their bedside:
The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures.
He leads me beside still waters.
He restores my soul.
He leads me in paths of righteousness
for his name’s sake.
The doctor, nurses, and aides kept track of my pain level and encouraged me not to shirk on taking Oxycodone so that I would not “get behind” in managing the pain. Because pain has been such an infrequent visitor in my life, I did not want to insulate myself too much from it. Thankfully, an occasional Tylenol was enough to moderate my pain. Though I felt weak and physically dependent, I remembered the words of Gordon T. Smith that had so interested me just a few weeks before. Smith notes that it is when we accept and even embrace the experience of pain and suffering that we are most receptive to the outpouring of God’s wondrous, boundless love. Though I am unworthy to compare my light brush with suffering to that of the Apostle Paul, I learned a new appreciation of his writing in Romans 5: 3-5 NASB (emphasis mine):
And not only this, but we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts [ESV: “poured into our hearts”] through the Holy Spirit who was given to us.
Reflections during Recovery:
Although I could have gone home on Tuesday, Abby and I agreed that I should spend a few days in the Transitional Care Unit to undergo some physical therapy and increase my readiness for life back home. During these days of recovery, I revisited the three questions that had challenged me in years past and which had especially pressed upon me only days before my injury. As I reflect on my own suffering and recovery, am beginning to understand more clearly the nature of sincere compassion, the genuineness of my own faith in God, and the faithfulness of Jesus, my Savior.
While lying on my back in absolute dependence upon medical staff and then during my transitional care, God was making me a more humble, open vessel to receive His loving compassion through the care of these dear servants. I am now praying that the Father of mercies and God of all comfort Who comforts us in our affliction will make me into a better steward of His comfort and compassion so that I will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God (2 Corinthians 1: 3-4). In short, it’s ultimately not about my compassion but my openness as a channel of God’s compassion.
Second, having never experienced serious pain and suffering, I used to wonder how my own faith in God would fare in the day it finally came. My wondering ended on October 8. Thanks to God’s grace as manifested in the many ways I have recounted above, my faith did not waver. I do not make this claim because I felt the strong “flexing of the muscles” of my faith in my time of need. Instead, my faltering faith was lifted up by the strong arms of God—loving arms that protected me bodily when I was struck on my left side, wrestled about, and dropped on my left side without a bruise—loving arms that worked though all the actions of my church family, and then the compassionate, medical care-givers. Again, it’s ultimately not about “my faith” but God’s imparting of the gift of faith to me (Ephesians 2: 8).
Finally, I had no reason to question the faithfulness of my Savior, Jesus Christ. Like the comforting, compassionate care that I remember receiving one morning from an aide who covered me with a freshly warmed blanket, so the loving arms and gentle voice of the Savior left me no doubt about His faithfulness and abiding presence. Much more than feeling warm fuzziness, God’s manifest presence was made real as His Spirit spoke to me in words from Scripture—words that He brought freely into my consciousness from memory, such as Isaiah 41: 10:
Do not fear, for I am with you;
Do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you, surely I will help you,
Surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.
Or, the words of Psalm 23 that I had read many times in the past, and heard in utterances from the quivering lips of family and friends as I stood at their bedside:
The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures.
He leads me beside still waters.
He restores my soul.
He leads me in paths of righteousness
for his name’s sake.
Even
though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil, for you are with me;
your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
I will fear no evil, for you are with me;
your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
Has my compassion become more sincere? Is my faith stronger as a result of this trial? Is my Savior faithful? I thank God for helping me answer the first two questions by His resounding answer “Yes” to the third.
In conclusion, I thank God for granting my injury and for demonstrating His faithfulness through it in the days that followed. Through God’s gift of my injury, pain, and suffering, I am learning anew the blessing of His comfort and compassion—gifts from His vast sea of love and grace. Now, I am recommitting myself to being a good steward of God’s gifts of love, compassion, and faith. I pray that the aroma of Christ will be evident in my relationships with others—so that ultimately Christ is lifted up. To God be the glory!
