What Am I Supposed to do With This?

-



 Sometimes in life the answer falls right on your lap. Questions you may have for God are answered in powerful ways, but you must always keep your eyes open! 


I carefully walked to my car after my appointment with a neurologist today. The news I had received sat in me like oatmeal on a hot day. Finding out that all of the neurological symptoms I have been having this past year are due to the chemotherapy I take to keep my breast cancer in remission. Among these, a degenerative nerve disease that will continue to progress, I will never return to my old self. I have already given in and use a cane, which for me is subtle reminder of the limitations I already have. The neuropathy I have can only be helped by Gabapentin, which helps with the shooting pains, but does nothing to heal the already dead and damaged nerves that have taken away much of my mobility. The Letrozole coupled with a B12 deficiency have had a feast with my nerves. 

And so, as I sunk into the driver's seat, I threw my head back and implored; What will you have me do with this God? I don't understand. As I began to leave the city, for some reason I decided to take Roosevelt Road all the way home. As I exited the relatively safe area of the UIC campus, I was immediately met with huge pockets of poverty. I was driving through neighborhoods I had only heard about on the news, all painted with despair. I pulled into McDonalds to get a diet coke for the car ride home, spotting a man, disheveled and hungry. He had clearly slept in his clothes; his sullen eyes told the story of a forgotten soul. Almost by reflex I stiffened up to make sure my doors were locked as he approached my car. Do you have a dollar mam? I acted as though I didn't hear him and drove to the pick-up window. 

And then, like a tap on my shoulder or a breeze through my hair, I knew the answer to my question was being given to me. I reached in my purse and took all of the cash I had and told the worker at the window to fill a bag with food for this modern-day Samaritan. As I drove away, I told this gentle soul what I had done so he could go in and dine with the others. He looked at me and said, I appreciate you mam.

No, my friend, I appreciate you. I so appreciate you. While I continued my journey home, I was struck by how all of these people live in this continual cycle of poverty and despair. Every morning they wake up to see the circumstance that surrounds their world. Be it in Lawndale or Austin or Humboldt Park, the picture is the same, and it is grim. How can they ever overcome the lot they have been given if generations just recycle themselves? 

My answer: be of service. I may have pain or disappointment, but I have many comforts to console myself with. I have a beautiful family and amazing friends that feed me with love and support. What if my friend at McDonalds had the same diagnosis? First of all, he wouldn't have the means to obtain the medical care I'm afforded. But, if by chance he did, he wouldn't have a home to rest his head in. A bed to lay in, or food to eat. How fortunate I am. I have been given so many blessings, and God is calling me to share them. To reach out of my box and serve. Whether it be through finances, kind words, volunteering or prayer, it was made very clear to me. Instead of being sad for what I have lost, I need to be vigorously grateful for all I have been given. Soley and proportionally grateful. 

Today God really put me in my place! And it was wonderful. Once his word became known it just poured over me as soaking rain on a summer day. It refreshed my soul and reminded me our God uses each of us every day to minister to the least of his children. To recognize the gifts in each of us and celebrate. 

I may not be able to run or jump across a stream, but I can beg the question every morning; What am I supposed to do with this?


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Coach

-
Image
 I think for the first 20 years of my marriage, I had a great deal of resentment towards my father-in-law.  He was by all measures a wonderful man, but I felt in many ways, his grandchildren took a backseat to his happiness. And yet, the irony of it all, I also believe that other than my husband, he understood me the best.  I will explain. After his retirement, he devoted most of his days and nights to the local high school and its sports program. It would seem logical since before that he had lived his life through his children's sports. An incredibly attentive parent in that regard, he coached them, encouraged them, and dreamed with them from T-ball through the entirety of high school. His breath was measured by the smell of a fresh cut baseball field. His heart beat to the pounding of shoes racing up and down a basketball court. And his eyes came alive with the lights of a Friday night football game. It was far more than his passion; it was his life.  So why would I resent this?
Read more

Where Did Christmas Go ?

-
Image
 I always become a bit melancholy in the days directly after Christmas. Some might say that isn't unusual most feel an anticlimactic let down. But mine goes much deeper. Of course, I am sad that after months of preparation the day seems to come and go, like a quick summer storm that disappears back into the clouds from which it came. My heart almost aches as I walk through the stores with sale signs cascading the picked over shelves. It's as if December 25th is a distant memory the day after it dawns. Even now driving down the street (December 28th), I have seen any number of Christmas trees cast off to the curb. Why do people insist on erasing any trace of this beautiful day? Theologically the Maji are still tracking their journey to meet the newborn king.  Yes, I can still hear the squeal of my youngest granddaughter when she opened the Barbie she wanted. The sparkle in her eyes will light my dreams for months. Or my youngest grandson's smile when he saw the collection of
Read more

Sweet Mary

-
Image
  Sweet Mary I passed the Hospice where I said goodbye to you. It stands stoic and silent against an unlikely back drop. I can still see your face, your beautiful face that very last day. It had a light around it, cloaked in a celestial opus. You looked more beautiful than I had ever seen you. Do you think God gave me that final glimpse so I could see heaven? You were so peaceful, and I knew in my heart that God had already called your name. I stood by your bed in that mere magnificence and cried. I cried for joy that you would finally be at rest. You would bathe in that light. You would see your sister, your mom and Dad and maybe even my parents. You would live where the sky meets the earth and command the sunrise and sunset. And, I cried for myself, how much I miss you. I loved that I was able to spend all of that time with you - driving you, sitting with you and talking to you. You filled a part of my heart I never knew was empty. Such a gift you were. Not just a cousin but a confid
Read more