Tag Archives: Encephalitis

Love and service

As many of you know, my daughter is recovering from a horrible disease, that has left her brain damaged. We do not know if it is permanent yet. Today she took the initiative and got her own lunch, did her own grooming and folded her own laundry. My heart almost burst with how well she is doing.

My wife, though, has so much pain in her foot that every step is excruciating. She lives with pain that most of us will never experience. She has two dislocated toes that are not healing and the joints have been damaged so that they will not stay where they are supposed to. The doctor has ordered her to stay off of it.

That is challenging, to say the least, because someone needs to care for Margaret. Fortunately, I have a laundry system in place, I am an excellent cook, I know how to vacuum and do it frequently. Susan can sit with Margaret and teach her to read and write again, and I can do the housework and cook and clean. If Susan will follow that plan, her foot can start to heal.

But she is a hard woman to keep down. She has dragons to slay.

 

It reminds me of several years ago. I had a birthday, and Susan and my daughters gave me a huge surprise party. It was wonderful.

It was right in the middle of a huge flare of Susan’s CRPS. Please look it up if you don’t remember it. It is a brutal and excruciating health condition. We went to Italy for the cure.

By the time the guests had arrived and I had gotten there (thoroughly surprised) I could tell by her eyes that she had had enough and her pain was through the roof. I took her to a quiet place and made her sit.

I welcomed everyone, prayed for the meal, and fixed a plate to take to Susan. One man was looking at me with contempt. He sneered to a friend of mine, “Anyone that would take food to his wife is a pussy.”

That was when I realized that this patriarchial, chest-thumping, posturing, posing, “men are to be men and women are to be women” garbage was not just wrong. It was dangerous, unloving, hateful, and set on fire from the depths of hell.

And today I have no patience for it.

I cannot stand the masculine and feminine ontology garbage, as if that is actually a biblical category.

I cannot stand the bullying and the posing and the chest-thumping.

I cannot stand the name calling and the posturing.

What exactly is it that men are supposed to be doing again? What exactly is it that women are supposed to be doing again?

Tell me about how she needs to be “keeper at home” one more time. Tell me about your ideal little fantasy world and about the ontology of my wife. Please enlighten me with your ivory tower back-slapping and speculation and the twisting of the scripture to fit your comfort level. Tell me again about how the men slay the dragons and the women are to be rescued while my wife fights day and night for the life of her daughter. Tell me again about the priority and superiority of men. We are all very impressed down here on earth.

The rest of us are trying to survive. Most of us in the history of the world have not had the luxury of pontificating in our easy chairs while the little woman fixes us a sandwich.

So when you are writing your theses, the rest of us will get on with surviving. I will continue to serve my wife and take the contempt of the mindless drones who cannot see the beauty of the gospel past their own tribe and their own experiences.

I will continue to nurse my daughter back to health and continue to try to get my wife to stay off of her feet so she can heal.

So go back to quoting all of the church fathers and drinking your trendy microbrews through your manly beards while your cowed wives and children kneel tremblingly at your feet. If that floats your boat, go ahead. Don’t be surprised to wake up and find she isn’t there any more. But that isn’t my business.

My dryer just rang, so I will fold clothes. Tonight for dinner I am making mushroom risotto. My risotto is fabulous.

I will probably listen to Air Supply while I am doing it. When I get my family settled, I will pull out my books and my computer again and work on my sermon.

You do your thing.

I’ll do mine.

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Filed under Encephalitis journey, Men and women

How does one classify a day?

How does one classify a day?

Was this a good day?

Was this a rough day?

It was definitely a challenging day. We are exhausted; at the end of our ropes, it would seem. I staggered into the room this morning discouraged and so very, very tired.

And the morning was a challenge.

Loud family conferences in Spanish across the curtain. The psychiatrist did a psych eval on our roommate, knowing that we were in the same room. It was loud.

And then the jackhammers. Yes, Really. Some sort of construction is going on that involves jackhammers.

it doesn’t seem very conducive to healing and i said as much…

And then the afternoon seemed to calm. I know all of the prayers going up and the Lord blessed us with a few hours of peace.

Her afternoon sessions went well, but she was exhausted. Anxiety, neurological damage, nausea and jackhammers don’t make the greatest mix.

I was eating dinner with my wife and said, “A rough day.”

She said, “Yes. But a different rough than yesterday…”

I prayed with them, and said goodnight. I sleep in an RV down the street. I gathered my things and put on my back-pack.

“Papa?” She said.

“Yes, my sweet one…” I said.

She got tears in her eyes. “I love you so, so, so much,”

Then I got tears.

I stretched out my hands. “This much?”

She said, “Much, much more…”

All in all, I think that makes it a pretty good day.

When the rope is at the end, God delights in giving you more. When you have no more strength, Jesus gives what you need.

When your soul is dry and dusty as a desert, the Holy Spirit refreshes with cool, clean water.

It has something to do with eagles, but that will wait until next time.

I think that makes it a pretty good day.

Thanks for the prayers, friends.

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Filed under Encephalitis journey