We're linked with Messy Marriage's Wedded Wednesday/
Note to caregivers...your spouse may be kind of like the person described below. Adversity does weird things to people.
Recently I heard a TV preacher telling her congregation to raise their hands in a gesture of surrender to God. She said we should be soft.
I turned the channel, because I never learned how to surrender, and I am certainly not about to start learning now. And I am the hardest individual you might hope never to meet.
This may sound like defiance toward the Almighty, about a stiff-necked sort of pride that stands between me and God.
Not the case.
I'm terminally ill, and I accept that. I accept that it is part of God's plan, at least to the point of it being an unfortunate operational necessity. Terminal illness is an artifact of a world in which free will is operative. The things that give us the ability to choose God also make disease and pain a part of our lives.
God is my CO; and He may well send me to my death, if that is a mission which he believes is worth that cost. he will not do it without sorrow, or without the reassurance that He has given me the resources to bear the assigned burden.
It's just that I may not survive, that's all. And that's OK. He gives the orders, I carry them out. Period. Chain of command.
And that's where surrender goes out the window. We're on the same side. You don';t surrender to HQ!
If I'm truly Jesus' brother, and God's son, I don't have to 'surrender' to them. They outrank me; I do the best I can to follow orders.
And I don't surrender to illness. The days have gone much darker, but the harder it gets, the harder I push myself. I may lose, but this malignant thing is going to die with me. Little joke there. Kind of.
And so, softness...what's that?
I'm a hard person. I'm ruthless with myself. Pain hurts, yes, vomiting is unpleasant, and incontinence is humiliating, but so what? I have the same 24 hours, and it may be tougher to get things done...but if I don't do that which I think is important, who will?
I can be 'nice' to myself, and watch passing the time I could have used, or I can kick myself in the butt, wipe up the vomit, and keep going.
I try not to do it, but I do kick other butts as well. Ruthlessness begins at home.
And at the end of the day, I'm glad I didn't surrender. And I'm glad I was not soft.
And when I meet God and Jesus I'll salute, but I won't look away. And they had best not look away either.