On the inner tumoil of being "Purely Decorative"

My new morning routine is very, very different from my old one.

My old routine seems pretty typical for a family with two working parents: get up, feed kid, find lunchmoney/trombone/homework/permission form, say goodbye to kid leaving for bus, slap on some makeup, get dressed, kiss husband, leave for work a teeny bit late, and pray for green lights.

New routine – get up, take meds. (9 pills this morning, can you believe it?) Try to stay out of Steve’s way as he feeds kid, finds lunchmoney/trombone/homework/permission form. Call goodbye from my spot on the couch to kid leaving for bus. Thank Steve for bringing me coffee & breakfast. Move to easy chair. Thank Steve for refilling my ice machine (rehab ice therapy machine is my constant companion), for bringing me water and phone and iPad and meds for the day. Kiss Steve goodbye as he leaves for work a teeny bit late. Pray for green lights for him. Sit in quiet room and fill the hours with books, knitting, DVDs.

Much as I am NOT enjoying the discomfort (ok, it’s pain... I’m just trying to sound stoic about it) I think the worst thing is how useless I am. Steve is wonderful, and he tells me with a sweet kiss that I am purely decorative right now. He tells me that he loves to serve me, and I thank God for giving me this man with such a heart.

But, being this useless gets old very quickly. I can’t even put on my own shoes, or carry a glass of water over to the table, let alone run errands, or make my husband a latte, or feed my family. I thank God for Shirley and Kerry and Laura who have brought meals for us. I’m quite pathetically grateful for these women who have served our family. I’m also grateful to our kids who have had to pick up the slack and tend to so many other things than their normal responsibilities.

I honestly canNOT wait until I can be back up and in the kitchen again without being in the way. I already miss the independence of driving and running errands. I think it’s very normal that I feel guilty about requiring so much of those around me. And please don’t tell me to relax and “enjoy” being served by others. I KNOW about being served. I am blessed more than I can say by those who show their love by serving me. It’s not about enjoying it, it’s about accepting with gratitude the give of others sacrificing themselves for me.

The lesson I am learning – again – is that I must listen to the call to serve others as I have been served. Serving Steve is easy, because I love him and I see immediate benefits to bringing him lattes and making him meatloaf. I am seeing that I need to extend outside my own walls and serve my community in new and self-sacrificial ways. I know I do that already, sure, but not enough. Honestly, I only serve when it’s convenient. Or when I have time, or money. True service is when it’s inconvenient, and when I don’t have the time or money.

Our family is talking a lot these days about building and reinforcing our Church community, and what our role might look like. I want to inspire all 5 of us to sacrifice our comfort and our time to serve the body of Christ. We have some ideas. We’re planning to aim to invite people over for Sunday lunches, which means we’ll be sacrificing lazy afternoons, and I’ll be sacrificing my pride in revealing to others that our home actually looks lived in. I am planning to build up a stash of freezer meals so I can whip out a meal for someone who needs it at short notice. That’s what we’ve come up with so far, we’ll keep you posted. (And, if you are in the foyer at Bethany in weeks to come, you might get a random lunch invitation from the Bowens!)

For now, though, I’m useless. It’s bad. I hate it. I know it’s a short term problem. I am enjoying the chance to enjoy some quiet hours but I miss being functional. It’s not my season right now. Right now, I am purely decorative. And I am practicing being thankful.

Here’s today’s instalment as I aim to list 1000 things I am thankful for:
72. Homemade lemon pie in the fridge – thanks to our dear Kim.
73. Surviving a trip to Safeway to restock the fridge and cupboards.
74. April who drove us! (see #73)
75. Kim who cheerfully helped get supper on the table and cleaned up after #73.
76. Steve got up with me in the middle of the night and re-wrapped my knee and helped me try to get comfortable so I could sleep.
77. Phil Reinder’s great prayer book Seeking God’s Face
78. Exuberant orange tiger lilies in a bouquet from last week
79. I figured out a way to open the back door so I could let the dogs out without having to get up. (Hint: crutch as long range tool...)
80. The full moon last night that lit the sky even in the middle of the night.
81. A pretty blue and clear water bottle, and #82. The crystal clear water within it.
82. The volunteers at our school who are sacrificing their time, even now wrapping up hundreds of hot dogs that will be delivered to kids (and, shhhh, teachers!) who love Hot Dog days.
83. The student who sent me an email to tell me he was dog sitting for someone and that he wanted to tell me he actually liked taking care of said dog. No mention of cleaning up after same. ;-)
84. Our old clock that was Steve’s great-grandparents. Its peaceful ticking is a constant and soothing companion in our quiet house. We’re so glad it still runs after all these years and that even though it doesn’t keep great time, it still gives us much pleasure. (Hmm, might be a lesson for me in there.)
85. Yellow yarn
86. April’s new glasses with funky blue frames.
87. A great benefit plan that paid for #86
88. April’s wonderful attitude about having to get glasses at age 19.

Thanks for reading my ramblings,
Susan