Back to What Works

Many dear folks, who have been praying for me and wishing me well, rejoice every time I share a picture of myself on Facebook lately, a portrait of my joyful face in another new location, a place I’ve been before and now returned to, home after weeks in the hospital, perched on a park bench after walking from the car, standing at the end of our street, atop a West Virginia mountain on a brick pathway surrounded by Spring’s blossoms.

A Oglebay Resort, Wheeling, West Virginia

It is good to get back to the places we love, especially when we wondered if the special place or time had become just a memory, or if the joy of it would now be lessened by a new, less able, normal. Sometimes I don’t feel like going out of the house, like expending my small supply of energy to walk on uneven ground where unexpected things can throw me off balance, like having people notice how slowly I walk with my cane or wonder why I use a parking space reserved for the handicapped.At those times, two things help. My patient, encouraging husband tells me that he is taking me out, and I remember the last time some fresh air and exercise boosted my mood, leading to a “good tired.”

My first time to Oglebay after surgery.

Eleven weeks past my back surgery, I visited my doctor yesterday. My appointment was not about my recovery from surgery really, but my complaint of shoulder pain, something that seems unfair after what I’ve endured…Why this? Why now? Why me?I know what’s wrong because I’ve felt it before, and I remind my doctor that I did physical therapy three years ago for a similar problem with my shoulders and it worked and I kept doing the exercises for a long time, but with the problems the spinal tumor brought, I got out of the habit of stretching and exercising my neck and upper back. I’m just here for a shot.

She orders an X-ray and talks with me about seeing an orthopedic doctor, agreeing sympathetically that a round of outpatient physical therapy would be challenging right now. The pain shot is painful and I go home to nurse my wound with a cup of hot chocolate, putting off the X-ray for a day. During the night, I have the same pain in my shoulder and end up with a nasty muscle spasm in my neck just before getting out of bed. I don’t want to deal with this pain, but it’s real and I don’t expect it to go away without attention. So, I tell my husband that I am going to follow the therapy program that worked in 2016, feeling determined to avoid another doctor’s involvement.


I wore my black shoes to church on Sunday. They’re the only shoes I’ve had on since my surgery. I wore them to the hospital, unaware that they would help my uncooperative foot walk straighter from my hospital room to the therapy gym, then move around the first level of my home with a cane, and now stroll along that brick path on top of a mountain. Today, I went for my shoulder X-ray, then drove to the mall for a pair of non-black shoes to wear to church this Sunday, Easter Sunday. Oh, and I began my neck and shoulder exercises again, because they worked before.

Spring is a good time for beginning again, I think. The trees are doing it, putting forth seeds and blossoms and leaves. The birds are flitting about in pairs, choosing spots for their nests. Flowers that died during Autumn are pushing up through the thawing ground, reminding us of the beauty of new life.

 

A pair of goldfinches at my neighbor’s feeder.

The little children of our church sang on Palm Sunday. And they jumped up and down, waving palm branches, singing “Hosanna! Jesus is alive!” Their joyful presentation has become a tradition at our church as we begin our observance of Holy Week. As most Christian churches do, we will hold extra services, observing Maundy Thursday with communion and Good Friday by bringing the heaviness of our hearts to the cross of Jesus. We will sing of what He has done for us, laying down his own life for our sake, making a way for us to live in the presence of God for all eternity.

Maybe you’ve heard of John 3:16, but not really known what it means. With the little children in mind, I’m turning to the Jesus Storybook Bible, authored by Sally Lloyd-James for an explanation. Her chapter, “The sun stops shining” describes the death of Jesus this way:

Even though it was midday, a dreadful darkness covered the face of the world. The sun could not shine. The earth trembled and quaked. The great mountains shook. Rocks split in two. Until it seemed that the whole world would break. That creation itself would tear apart. The full force of the storm of God’s fierce anger at sin was coming down. On his own Son. Instead of his people. It was the only way God could destroy sin, and not destroy his children whose hearts were filled with sin.

The next chapter, “God’s wonderful surprise” begins:

Jesus’ friends were sad. They would never see their best friend again. How could this happen? Wasn’t Jesus the Rescuer? The King God had promised? It wasn’t supposed to end like this. Yes, but whoever said anything about the end?

The gospel writers of the Bible tell of Mary Magdalene finding the tomb where Jesus had been laid empty, and of Jesus telling her to go and tell the others that he is alive. Lloyd-James describes Mary’s joy:

Mary ran and ran, all the way to the city…She didn’t even feel like her feet touched the ground…and it seemed to her that morning, as she ran, almost as if the whole world had been made anew, almost as if the whole world was singing for joy – the trees, tiny sounds in the grass, the birds…her heart. Was God really making everything sad come untrue? Was he making even death come untrue?

That is what Easter is about. Many of us went to church as kids, dressing up in new clothes on Easter, singing about Jesus, enjoying the celebration of new life. Through the years, we might have become disillusioned with church or distracted by the difficulties and busyness of life. It is never too late to come to church again like a little child, expecting to find Jesus there, alive. You might even find yourself jumping up and down in your new Easter shoes!

East Richland Friends Church, St Clairsville, Ohio

find info at www.erfriends.com