A Simple Task

Another trip to Wharton today, and another humbling experience.

For those of you catching up on this situation: I have a member who is in Wharton Nursing and Rehabilitation Center.  He has stage four lung cancer which has spread into his brain.  The prognosis is 2 to 2 1/2 months.  Of course, with the power of prayer and such, you never know.  But it's a tough situation.

When a member of my congregation is in such straights, I usually make it a policy to check in as often as possible.  Wharton is an hour drive away, so I am working to see this member once a week.

Today, I made that drive.

I arrived to find my member at rehab.  He was just finishing up.

The brain surgery and tumors have affected his left side.  While it is much better than right after the surgery, I found out today, he still has a long way to go.

The therapist pulled up a chair for me to visit with "Dave" while I he was finishing his therapy.  Dave was sitting in a wheel chair with a movable table in front of him.  On that table was a contraption with several bars running horizontally across it.  Dave's job was to pick up oversized clothes-pins and clamp them across those metal bars.

For most of us, it's a simple task.  Squeeze the ends to open the pin.  Reach out and put the pin on the bar, and done.  It would take most of us a minute to do 20 or 30 such moves.

But not Dave.  In his weakened condition, it was taking much, much longer.  He struggled to grasp the pins.  He struggled to pinch the ends together.  He struggled to reach out and put them on the bars.  Dave didn't lose his sense of humor.  He tried to slip a few moves in with his right hand, but the therapist wouldn't let him get away with it too often.

After hanging about 10 pins, Dave said, "I'm struggling.  I need to rest."

After pinching clothes pins.

A simple task.

When you aren't suffering from cancer.  Or weakened by some other malady.

It brought me back to the reality that such things hit people indiscriminantly.  They don't pay attention to age, skin color, height, weight, or any such thing.

One day, you can be just fine, walking down the street minding your own business, and the next thing you know, you are stuck in the hospital suffering from God knows what.  And dependent upon other people.

After Dave finished his therapy, we went back into his room.  He wanted in bed, and I had to lift him out of his wheelchair to help him.  I thanked God for my strength as I picked him up.  A little later, he wanted to sit up in bed.  He reached out for my hand.  I pulled, and I pulled his bed away from the wall.  Apparently, I was a little too strong at the moment, so I pushed the bed back while helping him sit up.  He asked me to help him put his shoes on.  I did.  He asked me to help him put his feet back in bed, and I did again.

Dave remarked, "Now, I know how my mother felt when I was helping her when she was in the nursing home."

At least he was having an easier time of asking and receiving help.  Some folks fight it.

Numerous times, I have had to remind them of this:

We know that when we help someone in need, we are helping Christ.  For a long time, you might have done so in your life, but now, you are receiving help.  And not only that, people are encountering Christ when they help you.  Let Christ work through you.

A lot of times, that statement helps.  Dave got it.  He understood it, and it helped him.

I hope, if the time comes for me, I can remember that too.  Especially if I too need help accomplishing a simple task.