Part 4 "Life Lesson" The Conclusion

The following morning, I awoke to a painful mystery.  When I went to get up, my right knee had a sharp, deep throbbing pain.  My first thought was the run had made me sorer than usual.  But when I slid out of bed and took a few steps, I knew that it was something much more than soreness.  Something was wrong with my knee.  I could barely walk because of the aching pain.  What had happened to my knee?  I couldn’t make sense out of what was going on.  It didn’t hurt any yesterday, during or after the run.  In fact it felt good all Thanksgiving Day! To make a long story short, I spent the next 10 months trying to let my knee heal itself, finally realizing that it wasn’t going to get better on its own.  So, I went to the doctor and he confirmed that I had a torn meniscus.  The surgery date was set, took place, and so far seems to have been a complete success.  The pain was all gone!  Oh, the knee was sensitive and swollen from the surgery, but the problem creating almost a year of unstable mobility and hurt had been removed.  It’s now Thanksgiving Day, 2011, and my knee is great.  Walking does not hurt, and I am getting back to my normal, I think, I hope.  In all this I learned a “life lesson.” I learned in those few months, I’d forgotten what it felt like to feel good.  And this makes me think….  I think about the person who can’t see as they once did, or the man whose hearing is almost gone, or the women, whose heart has weakened, leaving her little strength, or the one who’s wheel-chair-bound for life, due to a debilitating disease, or the child who once ran, played, and leaped for joy, who’s now elderly and bed-ridden, or the friend, family member, or spouse whose body has returned to ashes and dust.  Let me ask you a question, have you forgotten what it feels like to feel really good?  Is the brokenness in your body, your life, of the irreversible sort, that no surgery can heal, allowing you to once again experience what it feels like to feel good?  The answer for us all, is eventually yes, and this is the “earthly truth.” But a Christian’s journey doesn’t end in pain!  The Lord Almighty promises that there is coming a day, where believer’s will be gloriously healed, never again to forget what it feels like to feel good, because; ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” So, Dear God, thank you for the “life lesson” that came by way of a Thanksgiving Day jog with my daughter, and ultimately pointed me to your great spiritual promise of THE COMING MORNING OF JOY!

Part 3 "Life Lesson"

What happened?  I was pooped.  I was exhausted.  My brief and glorious burst of energy wore me out.  I was like a shooting star with no shoot left.  My excellent jogging form transformed into what now looked more like an old, overweight, galloping elephant.  I thought to myself, “Where did my mojo go-go?”  But I determined not to let Ashley see that I was spent.  So I smiled through the pain and pretended that I still had some gas in the tank, but I knew the tank was running on empty.  The most embarrassing point for us both was when a father and his daughter (who was probably about 6 years old) passed us by.    That was more than Ashley’s pride would allow for and  I heard her loudly mumble, “No way am I going to let a little girl beat me in this race.”  So she picked up the pace, I followed, and passed them we went with the finish line in sight.   You could hear the crowd cheering in the distance.  Ashley’s side was aching.  She had placed her hand on her side trying to massage out the pain.  She was laboring along.  She was giving it all she had and I was proud of her effort.  I on the other hand, had gotten my second wind and was just waiting to make my big move for the final sprint.  I edged up, we were now even, and I was easily matching her step for step.  I envisioned crossing the finish line ahead of her, arms raised high in victory, winning all the bragging rights for the ride back home.   As we approached the last 25 yards to the finish line, this feeling came over me, “Let her win.  Don’t pass her.  Just let her win.”  So, I dropped back, and watched as she crossed the finish line ahead of me.  The race was over and together we headed back home, in a warm car to the greatly anticipated Thanksgiving meal.  Although my body was tired from the run, I felt good. Good that I finished the race.  Good that I spent the morning with the daughter I love.  Good that I made a memory that I will always hold dear.  Good that I let her win.   But the following morning brought nothing good for me.

Part 2 "Life Lesson"

I felt a little stiff as we trotted along, but with each stride I loosened up and thought to myself, “This isn’t so bad after all.  Could it be, that maybe, I was in better shape than I thought?”  After going half way around the course, on the first of two and a half laps, I became aware that our pace had increased a little.  No problem, I reflected, because I had a lot of juice left in the tank, the legs were limber, and I was feeling the mojo.  Ashley was now ahead of me by a few steps, when the first bead of sweat ran down the side of my forehead over my cheek.  It’s a weird feeling (not a great sensation) to have a warm drop of sweat running down your face when it’s cold outside.  Anyway, we now had completed lap one.  As we continued along talking smack back and forth to one other, I made a decision.  In retrospect it was an unfortunate, fateful decision.  I had decided to turn the heat up on Ashley and pay her back for her earlier taunts.  The strategic timing of my decision was based on the fact that she was complaining about her side aching, plus her breathing had grown heavy and sounded like a mule with severe laryngitis.  No mercy!  So I kicked in the after burners, went at an all out sprint and passed by her like she was standing still.  The whole time I was laughing and repeating, “Who’s the old man now?”  After running far ahead, showing her my superiority, I stopped and jogged back to her and once again we were side-by-side in perfect cadence. But something unsurprising had happened to me.