Tag Archives: suffering

Life Lessons Using A Rubber Duck

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Well, it’s time for an update of some sort, don’tcha think? Time goes by sooooooooo fast and other days, seems so slow. Sounds like a song.

I met a new PD’er online. Now there’s three of us who are addicted to online PD conference chats at 3 in the morning because the RLS is keeping us up (and alert) or the meds to stop the RLS is keeping us up (and alert). Which do you prefer? Survey says…

Well, we are trying to sell our home. Not easy these days, you know. I was struggling with all of the issues surrounding this big thing in my life and for this entry, I wanted to share what I learned. This comes from another blog I do called Planting Gardens – www.plantinggardens.blogspot.com. Here it is:

LIFE LESSONS WITH A DUCK
by Sherri Woodbridge

I have come to my mom and dad’s, to spend some time with them. I think I am also trying to spend some time getting my emotions, feelings, thoughts and feelings under control. I cannot stop crying when I think of my kids and having to leave them, not knowing the next time when I will see them again.

Is that what is known as the empty nest syndrome? Is there some way to get those feathery fellows to fly home? Is this part of ‘letting go’? I suppose it is, but surely I do not have to like it. I am most certain Paul did not like going to jail and yet, he praised God while he was there.

There is a song that goes something like this:

Blessed be the name of the Lord

Blessed be His name

He gives and takes away

My heart will truly say…

Lord, blessed be your name.

Every blessing you pour out,

I’ll turn back to praise

And when the darkness closes in,

Still I will say,

Blessed be your name.

He gave me my family and in a sense has chosen to take most of them away by moving them to other parts of the country. In this darkness that seems to be enveloping me, I can choose to cower to it or I can choose to praise Him in spite of it. Will my heart truly say, Lord, blessed be your name?

I am awake and the rest of those in the house are sleeping. I have opened the shades to watch the water rush by in the river before me. It is running fast and the river is full.

A duck is floating down the river. He floats alone, seeming quite content and to be enjoying his trip. As the river carries him downstream, he does not fight it. Then he appears to slow down and drift to the side, sitting for about ten minutes as he preens himself.

For some odd reason, I feel anxious for him as he wades to the side – alone. Where is his family? Where are his friends? Why is no one else coming? Doesn’t he know that if he keeps going and doesn’t go back he’ll most likely drown at the falls?

A thousand thoughts crowd my mind, as I panic for this duck. Then I notice – he doesn’t appear worried at all. He is still quite content, over there on the side by himself.

I can be like that duck, if I choose. I can allow God to take me downstream, through rushing waters, knowing not where the river will take me and enjoy the ride – alone. I would prefer to be traveling down that river with all of my family around me, knowing they are there if I need them – being there if they need me. But ultimately? All I really need is to trust God and lean on Him alone. All I really need is… Him. He will take me safely and securely, allowing me to drift off to the side every now and then to find renewed strength and rest.

I continue to watch that duck and as he starts back out for another jaunt, he only goes about ten feet on his next venture before trying to go back upstream – back to where he came from. As I watch him, he struggles in his fight, going in the opposite direction from where the river is trying to take him.

It is then that I realize – that is what I am doing. I am fighting God. I want to go back upstream to where I came from, to how it used to be – Sunday dinners with everyone there, game nights, making homemade ice cream, watching Boo – seeing her smile, hearing her laugh. Yet, for some reason, God has taken me down this river of life. It
is a river that twists and turns and even so, while not having the slightest idea of where it is running to, unaware of what is around the bend, oblivious of where I am going to end up, I hear Him whisper, Will you trust Me?

Will I? Will I drift to the side and rest a while, allowing God to be the one to fill the hole in my heart? Will I sit there with Him, letting Him be the one who dries my tears as He pushes away the darkness that surrounds me? Will I realize that He is the river that takes me to unknown places? Will I quit fighting Him by trying to swim back upstream to what used to be?
Will I turn to Him, with an aching heart and still say, Blessed be Your name?

In surrender, I pull up my webbed feet that have become strong from fighting and trying to go my way, and I allow Him to bring me to His side and rest.

Yes. I will trust Him. After all, He is all I need.

Oh Lord, forgive me. This morning I prayed for new eyes to see you in my life and you gave me a new picture by using, of all things, a duck. Help me to be like that duck – content with just You – needing only You. Help me to float down this river of life with You, knowing You will take care of me, pushing away the darkness that closes in. When I am tired and my heart aches, pull me to the side and hide me under Your wings, just as a mother bird protects her young. Then, when it is time to float again, let me not look back and want to go back upstream, fighting You in the process but to look ahead, even if I don’t know where You are taking me. I want to trust You. No matter where You take me or how I may get there, at each turn, I want to look to You and say, blessed be Your name.

I would encourage you that if you’re struggling with anything today, there is a God who cares and is waiting to take you under His wings and hold you close. All you have to do is… let Him.

I’ll Have It His Way

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I went to see a movie the other night with my daughter. Now, don’t laugh…

High School Musical 3 – Senior Year.

I haven’t watched the first two movies, but have heard from various sources that they were commendable. So, as I’m a sucker for musicals and while my husband and son went to the shoot ‘em up production in the theater adjacent to us, we went in to see ours.

We were the only people in there and had a great time. The only problem with these types of movies though… The repressed desire to sing and to dance is reawakened (much to my family’s despair). I left the theater singing The Boys are Back. I added a few little moves to the words that I could remember (which were few) and a couple dance moves. Yes, the attendant behind the snack bar laughed. And then in one of my graceful moves, I threw out my back. The pain seared through the entire middle. Fortunately, it didn’t last too long.

What was unfortunate, however, was facing my PD once again. Knowing that no matter what my heart desires, this PD – this thief – will determine whether I can do it or not. It won’t be my decision to make.

But…

If I had my way, I’d join a dance class and learn to waltz.

If I had my way, I’d go skiing one more time.

If I had my way, I’d play softball and hit a homerun and run all the bases myself.

If I had my way, I’d put my own socks and shoes on.

If I had my way, I’d insist that I can do it myself.

If I had my way, I’d do many things.

Things that I used to be able to do when I had my way.

But today is different. I can’t have my way. PD has seen to that.

I’ve had to learn to receive and not always be able to give.

I’ve had to learn dancing will have to wait, at least for now.

I’ve had to learn skiing is not for me.

I’ve had to learn others are willing to do what I cannot do.

I’ve learned, unlike Frank Sinatra, that I don’t always have to have or do it my way.

And that’s okay, because I know that for some reason, this path I am on is His way and that’s the only direction I want to go. I also know that when I reach the destiny He has set before me, He will be waiting on the dance floor of heaven, just for me.

**Earaches, Heartaches, and Doorways

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When my son was born, until the age of almost three, he had constant ear infections. After the third or fourth time, it became easier to identify that another was coming on and I could get him to the doctor before it became too painful. Most of the time.

I do recall one experience of having that motherly instinct of knowing he was getting another and taking me in. His regular doctor was out and another doctor saw him. He assured me after checking him briefly that there was no cause for worry. I wanted to assure him that I was most certain he was wrong.

At twelve o’clock that night, my son woke up screaming, his ear filled with pain. I did everything I could to help him. I gave him Tylenol. I held him. I rocked him. I cried with him. He screamed in pain until morning.

A few weeks ago, I had an ear infection. It began with a gradual achiness followed by intense pain and pressure for about five days, at which time I felt it was going to burst and to be quite honest, I almost wanted it to just to relieve the pain and the pressure.

No one ever gave me Tylenol. No one held or rocked me or saw me crying in the dark when I could not sleep because the pain was so intense, but then, they did not know because I was not crying out in agony.

This is what I learned…

When my son, at the age of two, was in pain, he writhed in discomfort and screamed for release from the grip of his ear infection. Oh how I wanted to comfort him and hold him tight so that he knew he was not alone. I rocked him to try to soothe him and as I held him closely, I cried with him, wanting badly to be able to take his pain away.

When I was in pain a few weeks ago, for the most part, I kept it inside. No one else needed to hear how much it really hurt. No one could rock me and comfort me and it made me think… Isn’t that what God wants us to do with him? Yet, we try to keep the pain in our lives and the heartache we experience hidden deep inside, when all the while He is waiting for us to cry out to Him for help.

I was chatting online last night with a friend and he was saying that one of his friends was not going to be able to do an event that they had planned for this year. He said the other person had been having some recent struggles and had to cancel. Then he withdrew and ‘disappeared’ (not literally) from his network of friends. My friend made a comment that went something like this: “I’ve told him there’s still a spot for him on the team, but he’s got to walk through the door.”

I liked that. We sit and cry but we do not run through the door screaming to God for relief. We do not writhe in pain when it hurts so bad inside that we think we cannot tolerate it for another minute. A foreclosure on the only home you have known. A divorce. An illness. The loss of a loved one. You lose your job. The list goes on.

When a child cries out in pain, the parent responds immediately. When he whimpers and sits off to the side, if the parent does notice, s/he probably knows it is not a life-threatening issue or the child would be screaming as loud as he was able. The child that is crying out for mercy gets mommy or daddy by their side – immediately.

I am not saying that if we talk to God politely, He is going to ignore us, but there is something to be said about crying out to Him. Sometimes that is the only thing we can do. Sometimes that is the best thing to do. To become like a child and let Him hold you and rock you. Let Him soothe you and wipe the tears as He wraps you safely in His arms.

He is waiting to love you. It is up to you to walk through the door.

**Bittersweet Lessons

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It began with “Welcome”, posted on a website. A health website in an area for those with Parkinson’s Disease or someone caring for a person with Parkinson’s Disease. The ‘Welcome’ has turned into lifelong friendships that have developed through laughter, heartache and commonality… we all have PD.

Two days ago I met a friend who I have known for over two years and just had the blessing of meeting personally. A friend who also has Parkinson’s disease. She met me at the airport in her famous, ‘da Coat’, overcoat and the friendship has grown by leaps and bounds since that moment.

I suppose so far the highlight has been today, after an exhausting (due to lack of sleep) evening at her women’s retreat and getting to know her friends. I have been immensely blessed by their company and hospitality. After cleaning up after the gathering, we went back to her house (this morning) to work on our PD site, Parkinson’s Journey. Afterward, she took me to a friend’s home, who also had a friend visiting from out of town. These two women also have PD.

This has been my first experience meeting anyone else with PD. It gave me a reality check in two major areas. First, realistically confronting the facts of this disease and second, the blessings of this disease.

First, the confrontation. After meeting Judy (‘da coat owner) in person and watching her, the realization of where this monster (PD) is headed hit me in the face (not literally of course, but it actually felt like it could have happened). After meeting Peggy (TNPeg to some out there) and seeing where she has traveled on her PD journey (she recently underwent a clinical trial for PD that involved having five holes drilled into her head), once again, I was hit in the face. Hard. This monster has no mercy. It has no preference of attack. It does not care who it hits. Young children, young mothers, young fathers, spry grandfathers, first time grandmothers, elderly parents – it doesn’t play favorites. It will attack them all and leave them to fend for themselves in what could be a useless shell. It knocks them to the floor. It will laugh when they cannot voluntarily move their feet. It will mock when others stare as you flail about without control.

But it will not win.

In the pain, the struggle, and the heartache, there is a blessing. The blessing of joy.

It will show up in the darkest hours. It will shine through the things we can still do. Like painting a mural on the side of a barn. It will radiate gratitude in knowing that five out of ten fingers still work pretty good. It will weep with joy on the days that are ‘pretty good’, because there are days that are pretty bad. The monster (PD) may appear for a battle, but it will not win the war when hope and joy stand as its defense.

The facts are, PD doesn’t get better. It can be controlled to a point, but it won’t get better. Though it won’t go away (unless God wills it), the sorrow over its presence in our lives can, if we look at the to God and the blessings in the trials and tribulations throughout this journey.

It is hard. Many times blessings come through hardship. They can sometimes definitely be easier to see when we in the midst of a hardship because we are elated when something good finally seems to happen in the middle of a hard time. The blessings can almost tend to stand out. However, they can be hard to see if we get caught up in pain and sorrow and lose hope.

This week I have watched these women of faith, women who are filled with hope, strive to maintain some sense of ‘normalness’ in their lives and hold on to some measure of control of their bodies. This week I realized, that is what I also try to do. I guess I call it pressing on.

I have wept in silence for these women. Some not only deal with their own disease (PD), face to face, day after day, but some are carrying loads that press in on every direction, often leaving anyone else to give in instead of pressing on. One woman is grieving over her mother’s battle with reoccuring cancer and the war with chemotherapy treatments. She also runs errands for her father in-law who has just been admitted to a nursing home for health problems.

Where does her hope come from? The kind of hope that allows her to stand when she has no strength left? The kind of hope that allows her to smile in the face of despair? A hope that perseveres in the midst of the trials and tribulations of this life? Her hope comes from her Savior. It seems so appropriate that the One who saved us, saves us continually from much.

Paul said, ”

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. …Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him.”
(Philippians 1:2-12)

Joy can be found in the midst of trials – if we believe there is a purpose in those trials. What if the only purpose was just to develop perseverance? Would that be enough reason to press on? Would it be enough reason to know that you were going through a hard time merely so that God could teach you to not give up?

That is easy to ask but tough when considering the response. However, if you consider the rewards of learning to persevere, it may be easier to answer.

Perseverance produces maturity. Completeness. Character. Not only does that staying power produce the kind of character that pleases God – a maturity and completeness in Him – but what a promise we are given if we persevere for His sake, to receive the crown of life! Yet, Paul says this comes when we persevere under trials. The kinds of trials and test that God allows in our lives. Tests that can feel as if they will claim the best of us. Storms in our lives that feel as if we will drown in the smashing waves and be thrown against the rocks, left to wash ashore limp and lifeless. Trials that claim ownership of our strength and hope and joy and strive to leave us empty. Tribulations that trap us into a dark crevice which close in on us, inch by inch of every passing day and chide us into believing the sun will never shine again.

But God made a promise to those who love Him. The promise that these things in life that hurt, that often make no sense, would make us better. Even if they don’t make us well.

That is the blessing of our trials – our diseases, our losses and sufferings, betrayals, and more. The blessing of not only receiving the crown of life, but knowing that we were allowed those trials because we are loved by a merciful God. Knowing that He has a confidence in us that we cannot even begin to fathom in our small minds.

He knows what we are able to endure. He only gives us what we can handle. He will give nothing less, as it won’t produce what He desires for us to become and He will give nothing more, as He is a loving and wise Father towards His children. He allows just enough to become stronger in Him.

If you are facing a trial that seems as if it will destroy every ounce of strength you have, every drop of joy that remains in your spirit and every spec of hope you thought you possessed, take heart. God is using it for your good. He is using it to bring about abundant blessings in your life. It is being used to produce perseverance. He wants you to develop into His mature and complete son or daughter whom He loves beyond any measure that you could ever imagine. He has not left you nor has He forsaken you.

Jesus said, “In this world you will have tribulations, but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). He has already gone before us and knows the path we are on. He has walked it Himself. He persevered to the bitter end. He will be your strength when you are too weak to stand. In the midst of the storms, He will be your lifeboat.

He has already won the battle. All you have to do is to trust Him. Persevere through the trials for when you have reached the end, mature and complete, He will be standing ready to place a crown upon your head.

sherri