It's been a wild and crazy ride around here in the last several days. The elders have returned from the east, and just in the nick of time, frankly. Last week, while vacationing, Grampie detached the retina in his left eye and now has re-attachment surgery scheduled for tomorrow in Seattle. So overnight (from Wednesday to Thursday) I became VERY conversant in the ways and means of retinal surgery and recovery. Met with nurses, talked to the hospital, researched massage tables. Set up in-home after-surgery care. Wow, does that sound like a vita to you? If only there was a way to parlay this into some kind of job.
And, because of course we didn't plan on unexpected out-of-town surgery, our new carpet is being installed tomorrow morning, which means the weekend was spent moving furniture. And I'm telling you, it was quite the choreography. Only one room is actually getting the carpet, but furniture had to be moved in three other rooms in order to make everything work out correctly. Now I'm mourning the absence of my sewing room (which is currently residing mostly on SK's double bed until after we get Grampie settled back in his home Wednesday) and Jackson is mourning even more deeply the absence of our family room couches which traveled across the state in a U-Haul yesterday. He is having to make due with the dog bed we bought for him last year that usually lives beside my sewing machine.
When Grampie and Thyrza got home Saturday, Beve and I were in their apartment ready to assault them with everything Grampie is going to experience in the next couple of weeks. They seemed to follow what we told them--doctors' appointments, surgery, in Seattle, etc. And were a little dismayed by the idea that Grampie would have to be face to the floor for two weeks or so. Having watched my farmer-brother-in-law face this in August, I know it's not easy, even for a 40-something man with all his mental faculties. B-i-l just couldn't help lifting his head when someone spoke to him. So I know--I KNOW--that Grampie, who hardly has a hard time keeping things in his short-term memory file straight, will struggle with this critical part of the recovery. But here's the thing, gravity is an essential component of the solution. The retina is reattached, a gas bubble is shot behind it to keep it still, and gravity alone holds that gas bubble in position. It's like the bubble in a level, I think, which is only in the right place if the level is...level. In this case, level is head to earth where gravity holds it still. It's a pretty amazing concept, isn't it, to think that this very cutting edge surgery uses something so of the earth.
Gravity. What holds our feet to this earth. What we are held by, I suppose. When our children were small, Beve and I used to pray that Christ be like gravity in their lives--not merely the ground on which they walked, but what kept them from flying out into oblivion. But you know what is also true about gravity? We don't think about it. We don't think about why our feet cling to this earth, why, when we jump up, we come back down (unless we're nerdy science types, and even then, not with every step, at least I hope not. Really, can you imagine how distracting that would be?). We simply walk, run and even soar trusting that we will return to earth where we belong. I wanted that for my children as well, the understanding that whatever happened, Christ would be where they landed. Always and always and always. However, what also happened, I think, is that sometimes they stopped thinking about Him. They grew up in a home where Christ was the gravity, the very ground beneath their feet. And they didn't have to think about it for themselves. Make their own choice FOR Him. So each of them has taken a different journey across the land, testing that gravity, I might say. Their stories aren't mine to tell, but...
This concept of gravity as participant in healing adds greatly to that life-long prayer of Christ as my children's gravity. And even for myself. Where we have lost sight or are blind, let Christ point us back. Maybe it takes looking down at the earth for a while--even at the dirty and broken ground--in order for Him to fix what is broken in us. Gravity as healer. Christ as healer. Yes, Christ as gravity.