Some reading his post might not know that I am a diabetic
and in the last three years I have lost my two feet. The
first was a below knee amputation on May 12, 2017. By late July I received my prosthesis and was
up and walking right away using two canes.
(I had been experiencing problems with my balance for several years
prior—making he use of one cane necessary.)
The most recent amputation was all the way last October. Unfortunately,
the incision from the surgery took its own sweet time to heal; so I was only
cleared to get another prosthesis two weeks ago. I was supposed to receive my new peg-leg
today; but the prosthesis people called yesterday to cancel my appointment. It seems my surgeon has yet to submit
critical documentation needed in order to apply for an authorization from my insurance
company. Just a matter of paperwork I was
assured.
Since my discharge from the rehab hospital last early November,
I’ve gotten around the house by crawling on the floor. My physical therapists objected to this method
of getting around but my wheelchair will not fit through any of the doorways in
my house. (Very common problem in almost
all modern homes.) “Surely, there must
be a better way of you getting around than crawling” they protested. But
they themselves had no other solution; so crawling it had to be.
Crawling at my age is rather rough on the knees and knee pads
can only protect you so much. So, after
all this time I was really looking forward to standing and walking upright once
again. When they cancelled my
appointment, I was very disappointed. I
was downhearted for a while. Then I decided
this was just another bump in the road.
Two weeks or maybe even another month would be nothing after all this
time. In time, all would be well.
Invariably, someone(s) will ask me the same question. When my wife and I lost our second child to
miscarriage, a close friend asked me if it made me question my faith. I honestly never felt the need to challenge
God in His goodness as a result of losing our baby. I trusted that it was in God’s hands and our
child was safe in his care. Not that I didn’t
experience grief. My wife and I suffered
our loss quite severely. But we believed
in His providence and good will for us.
Some would say that that was quite cold. I don’t know about that. Seems to me Christian faith is made of sterner
stuff than that. On the other hand, when
other Christians feel their faith undermined by tragic events, it seems
coldhearted not to understand their predicament. At least so it seems to me. In sharing their suffering, however, we are
careful not to shower them with dubious assurances such as “God must have
needed Bill/Jane with Him in heaven” or “There had to be something wrong with
the child and God took him/her so you and Bill/Jane wouldn’t suffer”. Trust me.
Nothing enrages a pair of parents
Some would suggest that my response is more due to my ethnic
characteristics (Northern European) than to any Christian faith. That
is, I simply am reflecting a normal “Nordic” stoicism to personal tragedy. Perhaps.
One should never discount the typical traits of one’s ethnic background
while seeking the wellsprings of one behavior—although, in my case, the Irish are
not known to be natural born stoics. Nevertheless,
the Lutheran faith I was brought up in teaches that tragedy and suffering is to
be expected even among those who love the true God.
The Christian has two natures. One is the newly created being through
baptism. The other is the natural creature
born in sin. As long as the Christian is
also a creature—which he/she will be until the resurrection—he/she will share
in the lot of all human beings. Life is
full of tragedy and suffering. Our ancestors
knew that. Suffering was all around
them. Most of human history is signified
with poverty, disease, and warfare. It
is only in more modern times with modern advances in science, production, ans
statecraft many have come to think these are unnatural to men—or at least
should be. World War I disillusioned
many of their belief in such progress.
But the notion that health, plenty, and peace are our natural birthright
still carries on. Such notion brings
some to rage against heaven their whole lives.
The Christian should know better. Perhaps,
in time, we would see the good that would come of particular evil events and
sufferings. But most of the time, such
things will not be revealed to us. Catastrophe
and heartbreak will just appear to be senseless—without reason—or at least
without good reason.
Why I should go another two weeks, two months, or two years
without a prosthesis for my left leg… crawling on the floor worse than a dog…is
probably something I’ll never know. Believe
me. That is suffering I’d easily wish to
forgo. Disappointment I wish would not
have come. Nevertheless, so it is. I trust all is in the hands of our loving
God.
