Sunday, April 22, 2012
Sunday Afternoon Tea
Oh, He laughs at things wondrous like Northern lights and colorful nebula and duck-billed platypuses (platypi?).
But He also laughs when I stomp my feet and ask any of these three questions... why?... when?... how?
Or... as that great theological thinker Woody Allen once said, "If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans".
I was sharing my questions with the nurse practitioner last week (it is okay to ask her why), especially my frustrations at waking up with blood sugar dangerously high and experiencing equally dangerous low blood sugar levels each and every afternoon... after trying to balance them for six weeks now.
She listened to me patiently and then in her British accent (which makes everything sound lovely), she reminded me that as a Type 1 diabetic, I am always "fighting my genetics". She reminded me I cannot compare my attempts to that of a Type 2 diabetic. My pancreas does not function and my life depends on five shots a day.
Sigh... genetics. The word brought back memories of the last time I saw my mother's brother... slumped over, in a wheelchair unable to walk, blind... dying from Juvenile diabetes which caught up with him in middle age... just like me. I was a little girl and I was terrified of him... and I share his genetics.
I have asked God why?!! Why, me? Why was I... the only one of all my siblings who came to Him not having lived a heathen existence (understanding we are all great sinners in God's eyes)... the one who was chased and caught by the family genetics? Why?
I was pondering all of this yesterday as I was walking in the cold afternoon wind. I'm in "no-excuses" mode right now, doing everything I can to regulate crazy blood sugars. That means for most days, walking at least forty minutes a day and eventually an hour.
I was listening to lovely music and feeling as if I were going to die any moment from muscle aches (and I do know that the average person does not die from aches) when I saw in the distance a jogger coming toward me. I knew who he was as he had flown past me earlier.
Suddenly I could no longer see him, I wondered if he had turned back and rounded the curve in the lane. Then I walked just a little closer and there he was... on the pavement... doing push ups! Not girlie push ups, either. Manly push ups. In the midst of running like the wind!
I wanted to laugh or cry or both... He smiled at me and waved about a minute later when he once again blew past me... this time coming toward me... on the trail, much like a figure from the X-men or Fantastic Four (can you tell I have a son?).
However, he had an interesting affect on me.
Not wanting to be humiliated, I started walking a little faster and within minutes I had passed the pain and entered the walker's high. Much like a runner's high (although I never experienced that), it is that moment when walking when one has pushed through the aches and pains and felt they could almost fly. For me now it is at thirty minutes or so into the walk.
As a former power walker, I used to experience this almost daily and it has felt good to feel it again... inspired by one who was far superior to me in health and wellness and ability. In that moment, God did not answer my questions but he gave me a clear vision of my past.
Those weeks and months in times of severe trial when I thought I was not going to live through the trial. Those days of reminding myself to breath. The years of stepping out in faith, knowing only what to do that minute and that hour and trusting Him as I felt myself stepping off the cliff of faith... into the unknown.
Terrible days and months and years at times... but yet... as I look back... times when I saw and heard Him the clearest. Times of feeling His presence in my alone-ness... when even those closest to me could not tell me why, or how, or especially when this to shall pass.
Then there came a day, not all at once and never completely in the moment... but there came a day I realized I had passed through the valley of the shadow of death... that season of uncertainty when fear and the unknown lurked around the corner of each day.
There came a day when I felt I could fly. I had experienced crisis after crisis after crisis and I not only survived but I was stronger than I ever thought I could be... spiritually, emotionally, mentally... if not physically.
Like the college student dropping in the midst of his run to do push ups, God had challenged me on the journey of life. He made it much harder than the gentle walk through the park I had desired.
I don't know what had happened if I had turned around on the journey... deciding not to follow Him on the path because it was too hard... choosing bitterness instead of trust.
My spiritual and emotional muscles were in deep pain and I wanted to give up... but just at the moment (it always seemed) I could no longer go on... He would give me a gift of relief. Sometimes in joy or peace... or a friend buying coffee for me at Starbucks.
Sometimes when I feel burdened and unsettled now, I think about the battles He has brought me through in the past and I can remain calm. I may never know why but I know Him and His character... and I have a feeling when I see Him face to face... why won't matter.
Picture: Water Baby and the Moon