Tess is a mutt – a combination, I think, of every possible type of dog you can imagine. Blessed with a generally good disposition, she is not terribly smart, even for a dog. Not long ago, Tess became clearly distressed by itching ears. She clawed and scratched and pushed the side of her head across the carpet. So I held Tess still as my wife squirted some medication into the dog’s ears. Tess was not pleased.
And that made me think of C.S. Lewis.
His book “The Problem of Pain” gives us an analogy of the care of a dog and God’s care of us all. A good pet owner doesn’t let the dog merely follow its natural impulses. Instead, the owner washes it, house-trains it and teaches it to behave. While that’s happening, the dog might question the “goodness” of the owner, Lewis wrote. But after it’s all finished, the dog is introduced to a world of affection, loyalty and – my favorite part of Lewis’ analogy – “comforts entirely beyond its animal destiny ….”
Comforts entirely beyond its animal destiny. Those are comforts that the struggling puppy cannot even conceive. Yet the comforts are real and available.
Lewis, who had his own share of personal pain, wasn’t trying to dismiss human suffering or tribulation. He wasn’t suggesting that people are really like dogs. What he did suggest: Submitting to God’s care was not automatic or easy in his 1940 era, and it is certainly no easier now.
Was my stroke part of God's care? I'm not a big believer of coincidences or random events – so yes, I believe so. To what end? That will be unknown until I see the day that Lewis described: Comforts entirely beyond my own animal destiny.
Monday, January 30, 2006
Thursday, January 19, 2006
Finding inspiration around you
Stroke survivor Dick Clark's New Year's Eve appearance on television was, no question, admirable. While, according to USA Today, it revealed some societal uneasiness with stroke victims, Clark also gave some inspiration to stroke survivors and families.
That being said, there's someone closer to home who gives me inspiration. I'll call him L. If he reads this, he'll know who I'm talking about. L, an elderly man, had a stroke a few years ago and serves as an inspiration to many.
He knows what it means to struggle, and he knows he'll have health difficulties in the future. He doesn't sugarcoat that. But to hear L talk about his life experiences and his unshakeable faith gives a boost to my own faith.
So by all means, admire an appropriate public figure like Clark who gives needed attention to stroke survivors. But better yet, find your own L, someone you can connect with personally, and let his or her faith strengthen your own. Then go out and be an L to someone else. That's one of my own goals.
That being said, there's someone closer to home who gives me inspiration. I'll call him L. If he reads this, he'll know who I'm talking about. L, an elderly man, had a stroke a few years ago and serves as an inspiration to many.
He knows what it means to struggle, and he knows he'll have health difficulties in the future. He doesn't sugarcoat that. But to hear L talk about his life experiences and his unshakeable faith gives a boost to my own faith.
So by all means, admire an appropriate public figure like Clark who gives needed attention to stroke survivors. But better yet, find your own L, someone you can connect with personally, and let his or her faith strengthen your own. Then go out and be an L to someone else. That's one of my own goals.
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
A beginning ...
This blog has come about after a long period of soul-searching – more that seven years. My own stroke came on May 8, 1998. A colleague and I, both newspaper reporters, were digging through documents in a semi-hostile government office in Arkansas. I suddenly lost the ability to speak and movement on the right side of my body. My right hand fell limp. I could not stand. A strange dazed feeling came over me.
That day, I nearly died. Thanks to my colleague, an ambulance came. Thanks to the ambulance crew, the hospital was ready. Thanks to the doctors and nurses, a drug called tissue plasminogen activator cleared the clot. Thanks to my wife, colleagues, fellow believers, and a speech therapist, I regained my ability to speak and, eventually, write.
And most importantly, thank God. He gave me all those people and the strength to get through some struggling recovery times. God returned my ability to speak and write. He returned my body to me. As this is being written, I ran five miles this morning, will run 10 miles this coming Saturday and am seriously considering a marathon next spring.
It’s been a long time since May 8, 1998. And please understand that this blog is not about my personal history or struggle. It is about faith. It’s about a very specific task of sharing experience and faith with stroke survivors and their families, to help them if possible.
How?
Honest answer: Uncertain. This is a start. Where this leads, at the moment, isn’t obvious. All I can say is that I’m led to do this.
Stroke survivors and families are invited to share comments or stories with me and, by extension, others.
Comments will be moderated, and all I ask is that you respect the purpose of this blog. It’s not about politics or general religion topics. It is about and for stroke victims and their loved ones, and the faith we can share.
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