Unplanned, Unbound, and Undeterred

I'm just listening to the rain and thinking about life --Reflecting on a few things from the past couple of weeks. 

I've attended three funerals, watched a last breath, attended a fundraiser to end human trafficking, saw Unplanned, met one long-suffering person among many, and am trying to keep up with my Mom from two states away, as her bones continue to crumble and she finds Jesus in her bruises...

Recently, I attended a fundraiser for Unbound - an international organization to stop human trafficking.  Thank you to my beautiful and passionate co-workers for paying for the table and inviting me along.  I couldn't imagine wearing a semi-formal anything to something related to human trafficking, so I didn't.  I wore the same clothes I wore to work.  Probably the weakest protest ever, but I was eager to field any questions regarding my choice of dress. 

I heard some real life stories, that looked far different from anything I had previously imagined.  People from near and far "farmed out" by people they loved, for money, drugs, or whatever.  Over and over and over again.  And yet, the victims find God bringing good from it.  They are grateful, and I am in awe.  I wanted to throw up, cry, and jump for joy.  I didn't actually do any of those things, but I was still glad I was just wearing work clothes.

A few days later, I watched Unplanned.  I felt like I'd just come home from a long, hard day at work.  Some chips and dip and a Pepsi later, I felt about the same.  I'm not usually an "emotional eater", but sometimes I make exceptions. I wanted to see the movie because I felt it was my social responsibility to do so, and because it was based entirely on people and events from the town where I've lived for the last 12 years.

As a child with my parents, I remember going to an abortion clinic to protest.  In my adult life, I went once to pray with my women's group, and much later had an opportunity to have a single conversation, which ended with one changed mind and one new life.  So, I've thought about abortion, shown up a few times, and prayed about it off and on over the years.  But, throughout my adult life, it's been the abandoned people in nursing homes that have made me weep. 

After watching the movie, I guess I felt equal parts guilt for not doing more, horror at the magnitude and the details, sadness for all of the lives lost and irreversibly scarred, overwhelmed at the thought of "taking it on" and yet, exceedingly grateful for the ones who have, and do.  I thought about Abby Johnson, and the guilt she felt for being complicit in over 22,000 abortions, how she accepts God's forgiveness for that, and how I can, too.

In contrast to those who suffer and die because of other peoples choices, I meet multitudes who are suffering for no apparent reason.  Their bodies hurt them.  There is no solution in hand, no end in sight, and they are okay with that. 

Suffering with chronic pain since he was a child and a host of medical diagnoses, one of my patients has a body that is decreasingly able to supply his limbs with the amount of blood they need to function.  Some limbs have been lost, some still need to be removed, and more will need to be removed in the future.  And no one comes to visit. 

I probe him for his secrets which explain his peaceful acceptance of all that he's suffered and his plan to suffer still more.  He simply says that he's still here, so each day, he has to wait to see what God has in store for him.  God is the only one who can release him from this life, or provide relief in the meantime. 

I believe suffering has redemptive value, but he doesn't.  I expect that he wishes God would "hurry up".  But, he doesn't.  He just waits.  Without impatience or expectation, and yet with all the hope and trust he needs to do what God is asking him to do - come what may. 

And this reminds me of someone else I know.  My mom.  She's been wheelchair-bound for 25 years, until last Monday - when she came abruptly to a flight of stairs, flew out of her wheelchair, and landed at the bottom.  She broke her leg in a few new places, but it was already broken in others.  Years of not bearing weight on her legs are taking their toll. 

But, you won't hear her going on about that.  What you will hear, is how it was a miracle that she didn't hit her head, or that her 400-pound-wheelchair stopped at the top of the stairs and didn't tumble down on top of her, killing her on the spot.  She's convinced God and his angels "set her down", and was further convinced when she found herself, Jesus, and an angel in a bruise that covers her entire left arm.  Good luck talking her out of it. 

My niece observantly pointed out to her that "She finds Jesus in everything."  Not a bad way to go through life.  She's in this weird saintly place where she is eager to suffer and feels very blessed that this happened during Lent.  A special suffering during a special time and "To God be the Glory"!

I espouse the theology behind all of this, but to see it lived out is mystifying, at best.  Thank you, Mom. 

For all who have suffered in your body, mind, or spirit because of someone else's choices or for no apparent reason at all, you are not alone. As you look around, I pray that you can find people who can speak into your pain.  In the meantime, I offer what I have - stories of people, who like you have not been spared, but have thrived anyway.  God be with us.  Amen.