I AM THE PRIZE
Recently I drove by a
high school and quickly glanced at a big lighted sign announcing the date of…. wait for it............
PATHETIC
AWARDS
It took me a few seconds to realize that the sign actually
said:
ATHLETIC AWARDS
I laughed out loud and almost drove off the road. Then I began
to ponder all the ways in which I am pathetic and wonder if I might be eligible
for the award.
I used to be pathetic (still am) at things that didn’t
matter to me…like singing bass, or sword swallowing or bull-fighting. None of
my friends could do those things either so that was okay.
I would have liked to have been a better swimmer though,
like my sister Judy. She tried in vain to teach me the techniques but I was
pretty hopeless. I did look good in a bikini for a short while which assuaged
my flagging ego somewhat but that turned pathetic sooner than I would have
hoped.
(sadly, no pics available)
I liked to participate in sports and pretend I was a
contributing member of the team but inside I knew I was less than stellar (make
than completely less). I was okay with that because there were other important
things I could do like recite Latin poetry and re-arrange our attic bedroom 50
different ways.
I felt beyond pathetic when as a young mom I was discarded
for an even younger model. I lost focus and confidence and hope. I feared the
mornings when it all became true again. Pathetic was written all over my face.
Years later, after one of my 13 surgeries (yikes) I remember
feeling particularly pathetic as my teenage daughter tucked me into bed and
administered my medication that she bought with her babysitting money. I was
the parent and she shouldn’t have had to do that. I struggled with my inability
to leap tall buildings and be the super-single-mom I needed to be while
pathetically my body refused to co-operate. Over the years, I mourned the fact
that my children were unable to buy the team jacket, sport the trendy fashion,
eat out with their friends, feel secure that they would have what they needed.
Yet, interestingly enough, they have the most amazing
memories of growing up. They recount the story of our 3-day holiday in the
Okanagan in a leaky tent with a propane stove that didn’t work, and the pile of
mush that accumulated outside our tent after the rain had its way with our
presto logs. (I proffered them as cream of wheat for breakfast but received no
takers.)
They love how we ate dinner in the dining room with 3-course
meals served on the good china on Sunday nights. The main attraction however
was that we got to take turns leaving the table and coming back as a character
that the other two had to guess. I was acclaimed ‘awesome’ when I returned one
evening in my allotted one minute with a cardboard guitar and singing ‘Born in
the USA.’ How cool was I??
We cried together and we laughed together and now years
later we seek one another out to share our lives. They have turned out to be
successful people with beautiful hearts. When I look at them, I don’t feel
pathetic at all.
Now being pathetic in my body is another story. Which day
this week will I wake up unable to walk because of arthritis in my feet? Which
weeks will fibromyalgia suck more and more life from me? My head and heart are
full of a trillion things I want and feel I must do. I refuse to live out my
days taking up space. The time left is shrinking (unlike my body) and I must
stuff as much as I can into the days I am given. What if I live my whole life
and never accomplish my unique purpose?
It’s too tragic to think about!
And so I press on and I do things I shouldn’t and pour out
too much of myself and insist on doing things myself and cram another thing
into my week. I do pace myself much better than before but sometimes someone
needs me, or my brownies, or my loud cheers from the sidelines and just what is
a body to do?
I have come to peace with the fact that I
am not loved by God for my performance; that he would adore me sitting
motionless and uncommunicative in a wheelchair. But the very fact that I have
breath and can see needs and hurts and have that deep desire to bring help and
healing and show love propels me beyond the easy and into the hard where
everything hurts and where I long to escape this pathetic state and really go
out there and slay the world with kindness.
Knowing that God knows my heart makes all the difference. When
I am too feeble, he doesn’t berate. He offers rest and restoration for body and
soul. He bathes me in loving kindness. I am renewed.
Seeing myself through God’s eyes gives me new perspective. I
am his adored child. I am perfection.
I am ineligible for the pathetic award.
And so are you.
this one made my cry ... it just seemed too unfair for all that to have happened. now you are happily married, and the rest of your kife is supposed to be "happily ever after" not having arthritis in your feet and not being able to walk sometimes. breaks my heart. love you so much. prayinf for you <3
ReplyDeleteThank-you for your sweet words.I'm not sure life was meant to be fair. We all suffer to some degree at different times, but it just makes the good times that much better. I could not live without my faith that suatains me. Thanks for your love and prayers.
ReplyDelete