Things I'm Learning From Knee Replacement #2

It hit me somewhere last night between midnight and 3am.  I was wandering around my bathroom trying not to wake my husband, waiting for pain medicine to kick in before trying to sleep again.  I didn't want to be there.  I desperately wanted to be snoring beside said husband, cuddled between our clean sheets and paisley quilt.  But, instead I was reading my Bible study book and stretching. 

It's been almost 6 weeks since my second knee replacement.  Honestly, I have nothing to complain about.  I've been walking without a cane or walker for weeks.  My scar, though red and angry looking, is healing nicely.  I'm going up steps almost normally and I can bend my knee to almost 100 degrees.

But...

I want to be done.  I want to hike in the woods and float down the river in a kayak.  I want to be at zumba class and out walking the streets of my neighborhood.  I want to sit through an hour long tv show without getting fidgety and sore.  Even now, I want to be able to type this and sit still without needing to get up and do some exercises.

But, that's not the plan for me at the moment.

So, last night as I was looking at my frizzy hair in the mirror and wondering why my huge bar of hand soap wasn't getting lather-y anymore, I realized that God has me here, on hold, for a reason.  I want out, I want normalcy, I want to be pain free. And, by the way, I want it now! 

But, I think I've learned some stuff in the waiting.

First,  I think God has me here to learn patience.  Yughh.  I don't want to be patient but I know it's a beautiful and valuable characteristic.  I once was a facilitator for a small prayer group.  I would email three ladies weekly asking them to share a prayer request or two with the group.  They weren't cooperating.  I got few responses; though, I knew they all valued prayer and wanted to be part of the group.  One week, in a snit of frustration, I emailed my three prayer partners and said sweetly, “Until I get prayer requests from y'all I'm praying that you have patience.”  I heard from them all that day.  Not one asked for patience.

Next, I think God's allowing this time of pain and frustration so that I can better identify with the sufferings of others.  I know what it's like to be in almost constant pain.  I know what it's like to have your family change plans to accommodate you, embarrassed though you may be.  And, I know what it's like to long to be able to take pain medication, again.  It's amazing the people I notice these days limping across grocery stores and parking lots.  I often want to stop and say, “Knee replacement?”  It's a club I'm not thrilled to belong to, but it's a club I understand.

I think I'm going through this also to, in some way, identify with the sufferings of Christ.  I'm not having thorns shoved into the skin of my forehead or nails driven into my wrists.  But, when I take another painful step, when I lay awake staring at the light seeping under my bedroom window, I remember that Jesus suffered intense pain.  And, He did it all for me.  I didn't understand His sacrifice in the same way before all this.

Humility.  Yet another prayer request I don't often hear.  But, pain, surgery, a lack of mobility, and admitting I've had two knee replacements before I turn 50 have taught me to be humble.  I'm not strong.  I'm not invincible.  But, I am humbly asking for and accepting help.  I'm really terrible at this.  The delicious meals, the sacrifices of time to take me places, the sweet hands offered when I take a wobbly step are helping me be better at accepting the service of others. 

Several years ago I was co-coordinator for VBS in a church that expected 300-350 children ages 4 years - 6^th grade.  We were also in the middle of a huge building project which caused hallways to be blocked and alternate routes to be needed.  It was crazy.  About halfway through the week, I was hiding with my co-coordinator in an office somewhere when I leaned toward her and said I had something I needed to confess.  I told her how I appreciated her working with me because I was terrible at asking for help.  I had just learned that about myself.  I was very proud of this insight.  She looked at me, nodded and smiled, understanding.  Then, she said, “Amy, I could have told you that!”  I was shocked.  I had no idea.  At least now I KNOW.

I would much rather be the one to show up on someone else's doorstep with lasagna.  I want to be the one to sit on the couch and comfort a friend.  But, it's a blessing to be able to accept that love from others.

Lastly, God has me here to experience the comfort and support of my family.  My husband has always been protective and affectionate.  He's quick to see when I've had enough and to help shield me from those trying to take advantage.  I'm sorry to say I haven't always appreciated that about him.  I have sometimes accused him of treating me like a child and underestimating me.  I was wrong and I'm so thankful he persisted in treating me like I'm precious and fragile. 

My 16 year old twin boys have surprised me with their caring concern, too.  While they've both been sweet and quick to offer help, they've shown their love in very different ways.  Davis seemed to hardly want me to move post-surgery.  He insisted on helping me retrieve my walker and scolded me about trying to do too much.  When Allen let me drive to get egg rolls one night, Davis shook his head, questioned his brother, increduously, then said, “I would have made you wait another week.”  Allen, who “let” me drive was right there in the passenger seat on the egg roll run.  He was also fond of putting my walker in the next room.  He thought I should have to work for it.

Though I'm still far from patient and humble, I think I'm now more content in the waiting.  I think I'm more willing to wring what God has for me from this frustrating and painful time because I've been reminded that there's a purpose.  As is often the case, I've found a couple of quotes that sum up my thoughts better than my own words can.

“The greatest Christians in history seem to say
that their sufferings ended up bringing them the closest to God -
so this is the best thing that could happen,
not the worst.” ~ Peter Kreeft

“Life is not in my hands.  I am not in control of every aspect of it and it is only when I fool myself into thinking that I am that the frustration sets in.” - Joan Chittister, OSB Wisdom Distilled from the Daily