resistance
The giant pecan tree sways gently in the warmth of the north-westerly breeze meteorologically generated by a hurricane that just this weekend past devastated the beautiful island of Puerto Rico. Even with the breeze and swaying trees, the heat and humidity render the out of doors rather inhospitable to this possessor of Parkinson’s symptoms. Plans for working outdoors today have been thwarted by nature’s bent to generate heat greater than the norm during these early fall days. Adapting to a change in plans, we pursue indoor chores that also become physically challenging in a matter of minutes. Walking prompts a conscious effort to lift legs each step of the way lest we stumble over our own feet. A respite from muscle straining chores prompts this determined and somewhat unaccepting recipient of neurological wranglings to undertake a few minutes of focused exercise before settling in the comfort of his cushy recliner to pen these few words. Self- expression has become an outlet for the fuming heat of the challenge that exists between the space of “what’s desired” and “what is experienced.” In that space I have found a place of encouragement and inspiration. It is called “gratitude” and it possesses an amazing antidote to what may otherwise appear to be loss and grief. My gratitude emerges from a place deep in my heart that is soothed and inspired to know and to more graciously understand that the God who began this work in me will continue it to completion. To know (as in true reassurance) that God’s grace is sufficient provides a place of constant gestation from which renewed and clearer offspring emerge in words and thoughts of thankfulness. In the words expressed by the Apostle Paul, I am growing to understand and be enlivened by his statement; “Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 NIV. An impossible order on our own, but thank God, we have a helper who already abides in the place for which we long!
Turning from one side to the other in bed suddenly became a monumental effort. The mind reasoned it as non thought provoking but the body resisted as if there were a mountain to climb. First steps of the morning were met with frank resistance as the feet refused to undertake the customary heel to toe movement forward. As frustration rises, so does the pill rolling tremor in the right hand rise in intensity. Visits from these reminders of human disease vulnerability descend occasionally without warning, but most often after an over-exertion of physical activity or a forgotten dose of dopamine replenishing medication. Each event prompts a response from one of the crossroads along the road of grief. That road leads ultimately to acceptance, but not to surrender. Acceptance that avenues of wellness are still available on this journey is not a sign of surrender to a place of defeat or resignation that there is nothing that one may do that would lead down a brighter road. Sometimes in the space called acceptance, a sudden reminder of the challenge being faced at that moment takes hold and tears of grief and frustration well up to overflow upon the cheeks that harbor gratitude. Knowing the presence and comfort of the Creator is in itself a place of peace that far surpasses any reasoned understanding. A thankful heart still beats to the rhythm of grace as mercy each day shows His loving presence.
A sly and cunning invader he is! Seemingly without cause, he creeps into the crevices of joints and muscle tendons with his incessant throbbing and resistance to nimble movement. In the quiet of my day I call him out as the uninvited intruder that he is. I speak not a kind word to him; rather I identify him as what he is, wretched and wrought with inconvenience. I seek to find a place or position absent his antagonism. I resist him by attempting to ignore his taunting. Finally, I let him know that although he is not the victor, I accept his presence as a temporary squatter who knows perfectly well he cannot reside permanently. Accommodating his annoyance temporarily is an exercise in stress reduction while standing firmly on the experience that he is not a permanent resident. Gratitude for infrequent visits further fills this cup to overflowing. Affirmed in thankfulness and endowed with recollection, I look at the visitor knowing that “this too shall pass.”
An unwelcomed alarm rang as this winter inhabitant lay deep in sleep beneath the warm confines of the sheets and cover. A slow moan of protest served only as a prompter to arise from the fetal position as feet were inserted into the waiting slippers. A tug at the ready sweatshirt pulling it over head and torso preceded a stumble to the door commanding the dog to get her business done. With every movement a near calamity met with resistance and aches, this day had the beginnings of a challenge. The stirring of wood embers remaining from last evening’s fire served as the ignition for the new log gently inserted in the mouth of the old stove. Morning medication consumed, the waiting was now on for the chill to be taken from the air in the old farmhouse. Movements once taken for granted with speed and dexterity today seemed painfully intentional and resistant. Determination set in and a trip to the gym soon ensued. As fuel to frustration the roads were crowded and the gymnasium was packed with slow moving, texting and gawking time killers. Reason said I had no deadlines to meet but temperament said “get out of my way.” Recalling my own advice, I went to a place of prayer in which thanks and gratitude were expressed. I found some relief, but my mood and stiffness of movement remained as instigators of further unrest. Each chore of the day has seemingly taken on a unique challenge of its own. I continue to utter words and thoughts of thankfulness in faith that “this too shall pass.” Without the rough spots we wouldn’t know what the smooth spots were like!