Discipling Fred
Fred has been known to interrupt me in the shower. Fred has been known to impede my progress in pulling on my pants. Fred takes what seems to be particularly spiteful glee in keeping my stock from balancing on my foot until I can complete the job of pulling it up. Yet, as much access to my life as Fred has, I've only known Fred's name for a couple of months. An eight-year-old put us on a first name basis.
Her name is Bailey. Bailey has already beaten a brain tumor. She and her parents told their story to my church, and that is when I learned from Bailey that Fred had a name. Although Bailey's tumor is gone, difficulty moving her right side remains. As she progresses in physical therapy, Bailey refers to Fred's stubborn reluctance to follow the signals her brain sends. She coaches Fred. She scolds Fred. Gradually Bailey is gaining begrudging mastery over Fred.
Although her brain's challenges differ from my cerebral palsy, I have found it helpful to name Fred when he interferes with the signals between my brain and my hands or my brain and my legs. It's difficult to get angry at Fred. It's difficult to be surprised by Fred. Fred is Fred. One day, as with Bailey, Fred will clumsily curtsy to Christ's glory and explain his part in the divine plan. Perhaps as Fred has accompanied me through middle-age, he will be with me by Christ's design through life's second half. Until then, Fred and I are learning to work together in this frame.
Knowing full well how much would opportunity this gave Fred to make much of himself, I dressed for an interview this morning under tight time constraints. Fred, I found myself saying, I need to borrow this hand you are accustomed to interfering with for the next couple of minutes. You can have it back after that. Even the socks cooperated with congenial cajoling, and I had a few minutes to spend in the Bible and prayer before departing for the interview. Should we be surprised? Jesus said gates (Matthew 18:19) and mountains (Matthew 17:20) respond to our prayers. Why not socks? Why not Fred?
Silly as it may sound to adjust our tone and perspective by talking to our Fred, there is biblical health in doing so. C.S. Lewis reminded us that we ARE a soul, but that we HAVE a body. Pastor Matthew Sink endorses the thought, insisting our bodies are where we live, not who we are. Francis of Assisi was a little more tart in referring to his flesh in language Bailey's parents would not prefer as Brother Ass, but all draw from the same Source. Our very eyes (Matthew 18:9) and hands (Matthew 9:43), Jesus said, disciplined by us rather than leading us by their impulses. There is reality apart from the distortion and frustration they cause. Now, we see in a fun house mirror whose distortions are not always such fun (1 Corinthians 13:12). In the Resurrection, we shall know as we are known. 10,000 years from now, if we trust Christ Who did us together in our mother's womb and enlisted Fred for His purposes, we will move unimpeded to His glory.
Her name is Bailey. Bailey has already beaten a brain tumor. She and her parents told their story to my church, and that is when I learned from Bailey that Fred had a name. Although Bailey's tumor is gone, difficulty moving her right side remains. As she progresses in physical therapy, Bailey refers to Fred's stubborn reluctance to follow the signals her brain sends. She coaches Fred. She scolds Fred. Gradually Bailey is gaining begrudging mastery over Fred.
Although her brain's challenges differ from my cerebral palsy, I have found it helpful to name Fred when he interferes with the signals between my brain and my hands or my brain and my legs. It's difficult to get angry at Fred. It's difficult to be surprised by Fred. Fred is Fred. One day, as with Bailey, Fred will clumsily curtsy to Christ's glory and explain his part in the divine plan. Perhaps as Fred has accompanied me through middle-age, he will be with me by Christ's design through life's second half. Until then, Fred and I are learning to work together in this frame.
Knowing full well how much would opportunity this gave Fred to make much of himself, I dressed for an interview this morning under tight time constraints. Fred, I found myself saying, I need to borrow this hand you are accustomed to interfering with for the next couple of minutes. You can have it back after that. Even the socks cooperated with congenial cajoling, and I had a few minutes to spend in the Bible and prayer before departing for the interview. Should we be surprised? Jesus said gates (Matthew 18:19) and mountains (Matthew 17:20) respond to our prayers. Why not socks? Why not Fred?
Silly as it may sound to adjust our tone and perspective by talking to our Fred, there is biblical health in doing so. C.S. Lewis reminded us that we ARE a soul, but that we HAVE a body. Pastor Matthew Sink endorses the thought, insisting our bodies are where we live, not who we are. Francis of Assisi was a little more tart in referring to his flesh in language Bailey's parents would not prefer as Brother Ass, but all draw from the same Source. Our very eyes (Matthew 18:9) and hands (Matthew 9:43), Jesus said, disciplined by us rather than leading us by their impulses. There is reality apart from the distortion and frustration they cause. Now, we see in a fun house mirror whose distortions are not always such fun (1 Corinthians 13:12). In the Resurrection, we shall know as we are known. 10,000 years from now, if we trust Christ Who did us together in our mother's womb and enlisted Fred for His purposes, we will move unimpeded to His glory.
Comments
Post a Comment