The Red Leather Jacket: Thirteen Days In...

I am learning about having the attitude of Christ in this time of slowing down and the healing of the broken bones in my ankle. I don’t want to talk about me and my injury so much as what I’m learning during this time.

I am learning it can be difficult to be the one being served. I’ve always been the giver of comfort, the doer for family or spouse. Now, I’m having to ask for things because it is too difficult to do by myself.

I am learning how difficult is is to be handicapped. It’s scary in a wheelchair going down the slope of a driveway or being tipped back in the chair to enter a doorway with someone else guiding the chair. I like to be in control of things and in this case, I’m having to let go and allow someone else to fetch and push me along. Using a walker takes a lot of energy too. By the time I’ve moved from one room to another: move walker forward, use my good foot to hop forward, move the walker ahead one step, hop again. By the time I’ve arrived at my destination, I’m breathless—me the hiker, climber, outdoors woman I claim to be! All of this is new to me. And I don’t like it!

I’m learning I can be a servant in ways while I’m in this non-motion state. I can encourage with words. I can use lots of “please” and “thank-you’s”. It is a state I don’t particularly want to be in, but it can be used in a positive way, too.

I’m learning in my darkest hours how near my Savior is to me. When Jim is quietly sleeping beside me and I get niggely little fears in my head—"what if I have a blood clot and it stops my heart?", "what if I hurt myself when I move my body forward?", "what if I’m in this state for the rest of my life?" kinds of thoughts. He listens to those thoughts and fears and quietly tells me “You’ll be all right. I’m here with you.”

I told Jim I had some of those fears last night. He said, “Why didn’t you tell me. I would have talked to you.” And I could have, but sometimes, I need to give those fears to the Savior, who loves me too.

I was reminded by something we read this morning in Philippians 2: 5-8 You must have the same attitude that Christ Jesus had. Though he was God, he did not think of equality with God as something to cling to. Instead he gave up his divine privileges; he took the humble position of a slave and was born as a human being. When he appeared in human form, he humbled himself in obedience to God and died a criminal’s death on a cross.

If the God of the Universe can humble himself to become a mere human being—and die a criminal’s death for me, can’t I humble myself and submit to a walker, a wheel chair, or crutches? I can—with God’s help and a reminder of His servant’s heart.