I remember the day my husband called to tell me how his doctor appointment had gone. I was walking into Southpoint Mall in Durham, headed to the Picture Place with my three little people. Pictures are a stressful event for me with three. I do it about every 6 months purely for future enjoyment, but I've left there crying before because of the sheer lack of cooperation and concern the three little people have for them. The pictures, that is.
Uh, hum. Back to the hubby. He had been having some pain in his hip, and I figured he had been playing too hard for his body's good. No surprise for my husband!
"Well," he started, "the Doctor said, the good thing is, it's not cancer."
"What???" I startled, "That wasn't even a concern, was it?"
Apparently, it might have been, but neither of us knew. Instead, they told him he would probably need hip replacement surgery before he turned 35. However, he should put it off for as long as possible since replacement hips only last a decade or so and need to be re-replaced. Yikes.
It hit me hard over the coming weeks and months. My husband plays more than anyone I know. He works really hard too (he's owned a business since he was fresh out of college, so believe me, he works!). He's the kind of guy who never seems to need as much sleep as the rest of us, and he's always willing to get up at 4 am to head to the coast to surf or go to the woods to hunt; he's gotten up most every Saturday to play basketball at 7 am since we've been married; he rode his mountain bike, ran regularly with me and our kids in both single and double jog strollers, wakeboarded out on the lake, snowboards, golfs, plays tennis, and more.
Daniel loves life and knows how to enjoy it. I've always admired that about him.
His attitude throughout this diagnosis has been amazing. He looks at the bright side--he can still play golf and hunt and surf, even with a replacement hip. Those are all great things he can do with his boys. We can still take walks on the beach, or if worse comes to worse, I can push him in a wheelchair on the beach (if they make wheelchairs for the beach), and he says I'll enjoy it more anyway because it's harder exercise. :)
My attitude was not so graceful. This is not what I want, God! How can you let this happen to him, when he's dreamed for the last few years of all the ways he and Jace and Ryder will play together??? How can you take the fun guy with friends by the handful, many tied to one shared activity or another, and wipe out much of the activity? It just doesn't seem right.
I was really mad that he couldn't run with me anymore. Although I can't say hubby was particularly upset about that. Running has never been on his list of favorites because it's apparently just not "fun".
Part of the problem with my attitude was that I was walking through life with the expectation that we get to keep our health, at least until we're really old. I wouldn't have said that, but in my imagination, that was how it should work out.
Another part of the problem was the way I was viewing life on earth, and the way I saw Heaven. God knew this, for He knows my heart, and He was about to rock me with a string of events and to give me something to really look forward to.
Glory!
So if you're serious about living this new resurrection life with Christ, act like it. Pursue the things over which Christ presides. Don't shuffle along, eyes to the ground, absorbed with the things right in front of you. Look up, and be alert to what is going on around Christ—that's where the action is. See things from his perspective.
Your old life is dead. Your new life, which is your real life—even though invisible to spectators—is with Christ in God. He is your life. When Christ (your real life, remember) shows up again on this earth, you'll show up, too—the real you, the glorious you. Meanwhile, be content with obscurity, like Christ.
Colossians 3:1-4, The Message
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