New Year’s Day.
Yesterday was tough. I woke up exhausted, struggling with the side effects of some penicillin prescribed to me after a complicated tooth extraction. Tired all day, I decided to take a nap, after which I tried to get in some exercise by walking around the block.
With my trusty cane, I set out amid the waning hours of daylight. There was a little girl on an electric bike buzzing around the neighborhood with her little brother watching. I wanted to avoid them. Typically, I love kids, but I was on a mission. Besides, I had promised my own boy that we would play Battlebots as soon as I came back home. But I also knew that down deep inside, I would be a little discouraged. I felt old and beat up, struggling to put one foot in front of the other while smoothing out my gait, trying to walk without the dreaded foot flop. The last thing I needed was some little child zipping around on her new Christmas present, making me feel even more slow and clumsy than I already did.
Sure enough, even though I tried to avoid her, I heard the hum of her little engine. She zipped around the corner and passed me by. Heel toe, heel toe. I tried to concentrate on the task at hand, focusing on ironing out the awkward jerking and limping motions of my walk. But then the real heartbreaker hit me.
I heard a new, louder buzz of another engine as her daddy zipped by the both of us on a motorized skateboard, holding Little Brother in his arms. Now I know that I’ve been overly sensitive since the stroke, but this new insult hit me like a ton of bricks. Here I was, struggling to hold my course, doing my best not to fall down, and this young able-bodied dad zips by me with his boy in his arms, every bit the hero to his children that I so desperately longed to be to mine, but couldn’t. It hurt like hell. I felt so lame, so feeble, so overwhelmed. “O God, why did you allow this to happen? Where did I go wrong?”
As I awkwardly made my way back to the house, it occurred to me that during this time of New Year’s resolutions, my goals for 2020 are probably a bit different than most others’. During this time of year, it is common for people to purpose in their hearts to lose a few pounds, make more money, exercise more, maybe even quit smoking. Me, I just want to get better. How much better, that is up to the Lord. I, of course, would love to be a 100% or more, but my job is not to guarantee success, but to be faithful.
My goals are simple – every day, putting one foot in front of the other, every week, testing the strength of my left hand just a little bit more, hoping for a little more coordination, a little more ability, a little less numbness, walking farther, lifting more, doing more of the little things that I used to take for granted. This year, I’m looking at tiny victories, thanking God and celebrating every one, cherishing my family,…for me that’s what 2020 has to be about. Forgetting the bitterness of the past, I’m reaching forward to what new things God has in store for me. (Phil 3:12-14)
Speaking about letting go of the past to embrace the future, just today, a dear friend reminded me of Isaiah 43:18-19.
Forget the former things;
do not dwell on the past.
See, I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness
and streams in the wasteland.
Thank you so much for your prayers for me and my family.