Today was a day that began like any other day. We all woke up and ate breakfast, dressed, and watched a little television before hitting the door. I decided to infuse my youngest son without accessing his port-o-cath. After three unsuccessful tries at sticking a vein I decided to access the port. Now, while all of this was going on, my son was kicking and screaming. Who could blame him? I am not particularly fond of being stuck with needles. Let’s face it. Needles are not that fun.
We finally called a home care nurse who proved to be our angel today. She accessed the port and we were on our way. While my wife and I encouraged our son, I could not help but feel like a failure. I am this child’s father. I should be able to access every time I try. It was very hard to admit defeat. Who really wants to be that far out of control?
As I continued to process the morning, I realized that my thoughts were so self-centered. I began to think about the impending week coming up in the life of our church. Next week is Holy Week. Beginning this Sunday, we focus our attention to Jesus’ arrival into Jerusalem, which led to the trial and flogging, which led to the crucifixion, which led to the empty tomb.
I had to admit to myself that I was going down a road through which many of us travel. We turn to our egos. I should be much more grateful that this wonderful nurse helped us. I should be grateful that this medicine is provided for us and that my son’s future is very bright. Why then did everything have to be about me and my reaction?
Now please don’t get me wrong. I am not saying that there is not a time to mourn, or a time to grieve. We all must process and journey through things to get to the side of wholeness and healing. The problem is that we can get so caught up in our own “stuff” that we can lose the beauty of a blessing that stares us in the face. This incident with the port reminds me to stand back up when I have been knocked down. Christ did the same for us. When he was knocked down (crucified) He stood back up and defied death itself.
This event with my son reminds me about my relationship with the notion of Holy Week and how we are to progress through the really bad stuff so that we may triumph in the resurrection. Just for this week, I will focus on what Jesus did for me without inviting my reaction to the gift of grace. I will focus on the fact that Jesus could have turned around at any time and said, “I will not continue this. It will be way too painful.” These are things that he did not do. Jesus pressed on. Not only did He press on, but He gave it all that He had. His primary motivation was to do the will of the Father.
Now, as for my five year old stinky boy, he is doing great. He picked up his choo-choo trains and went to daycare. His major concern for the day is what kind of opportunities to play are out there in the wild blue? I ask myself the same question. What kind of possibilities are out there for me to be still and lay witness to the loving messages or grace in my life? What about the constant revelations of faith, hope, and redemption?