Letting Others Help

LETTING OTHERS HELP

 

There are lots of things they don’t teach you about being a youth director. No one teaches you how to handle a broken radiator on a 15-passenger van in the middle of Texas. No one teaches you how to eat a banana in under 30 seconds.  No one explains the world of teenage hormones and angst. No one teaches you that you have to watch the extension cord on the moonwalk bouncer because teenagers think it would be cool to have collapse on them inside. No one can teach you or prepare you for the moment when during a retreat you have to make an emergency trip to the hospital and you are the reason for the trip, you the leader, the one-in-charge needs help.

 

The unexpected of life. I was 22, leading my first retreat with a group of 30 youth at a retreat center in remote southeastern Kansas. It was in the middle of the proverbial nowhere. After a long day of hiking and exploring God in nature we were settling down to a movie. The group was walking from our lodges to the meeting cabin when I suddenly fell over. The youth thought it was funny; I was confused to find myself on the ground. I got to my knees and stood up and immediately was walking titled to my left side. This was strange. I let the youth continue to think it was funny but knew something was terribly wrong. The youth started their movie while a sponsor and I conferred with my doctor. After an hour of dizziness and slumping to my left side, it was decided I should go to the hospital. I had to let others help lead the youth. I was unprepared for either – leaving the youth and going to the hospital. The unexpected of life had just dropped me to the ground. I had to let others help me. Help me get to a hospital and help the youth finish their weekend. Nothing prepares us for the unexpected.

 

The gospel of Mark tells us that Jesus is preaching in Capernaum. He is preaching to a packed house. The house is totally full. We don’t know what Jesus is saying but it is getting the attention of the people. Jesus is always doing something unexpected. However, this time something unexpected happens to Jesus. Jesus is just preaching to the people and he seems to be oblivious to the efforts of the paralyzed man’s friends.  Now, the paralyzed man’s friends are trying to get him in the house to see Jesus. They try the front door – nope, blocked by too many people. They try to go through a window – again blocked by people. So, they can either dig under the house or drop him through the roof.  To the roof they go. Jesus is preaching when all of a sudden, dirt begins to fall on him. I can see Jesus moving back, nonchalantly, and looking up just as a man comes crashing down in front of him. This is not a typical thing to have happen, a paralyzed man falls through the roof. I imagine the man dangling by the rope of four friends, looking at Jesus, looking directly into the eyes of Jesus. (gesture to represent man in front of Jesus)  I imagine Jesus clears his throat, taking that momentary pause to gather himself from the shock. Jesus lets the dust settle and he looks at this man dangling in front of him. Nothing prepares us for the unexpected.

 

The hospital. It was a long journey to get from that camp to the trauma center. At a rural hospital I was diagnosed with an inner-ear infection and sent home for rest. I reluctantly went home, leaving the retreat. The next day, still not feeling better, I went to my doctor to get some answers. I walked into the office and the nurse looked and me and said, you are having a neurological problem you need to go the hospital right now!

 I was in the ER, waiting to be taken to a room when my Senior Pastor walked in. I was already on edge because we had no idea what was happening. She was a source of comfort that I needed. She walked to my bed and looking at me, almost eye to eye, putting her hand on me, taking a breath and clearing her throat and saying, “Well, this is not the way to end your first retreat”. (gesture to represent man in front of Jesus)

Most of the next couple of days is a blur, I remember only bits and pieces of my time in the hospital. It was a total of 5 days with lots of tests. The diagnosis was, I had a stroke, a blood clot in my brain had caused weakness to my left side. A stroke, at 22. Nothing prepares us for the unexpected.

 

In the gospels stories of Jesus, there are minor characters that often play major roles. In this setting we have a paralyzed man. A paralyzed man in the context of Israel was an outsider, not as bad as a leper but most likely ignored by society. But, this man was lucky he had friends, people who took him from place to place and in many ways cared for him.

The gospel never describes how this man interacting with Jesus becomes paralyzed. What we know about antiquity is the social location paralyzed people took. They were left to beg for charity to beg for help. This man requires the help of others to move him, bathe him, get him food, cook for him, every living function required help from someone. In a hospital, we require the help of others to care for us. We give up control to doctors and nurses. It is not easy or comfortable to need help. But, there are times when we must rely on others, when we have to be lowered into the presence of God. (gesture to represent man in front of Jesus)

Jesus, looking at the man, looks up and sees his friends peering through the gaping hole in the roof. Jesus looks back at the man and speaks to him. Jesus offers him grace and compassion. Jesus gives. Jesus heals.

 

Change. The recovery. I was lucky? I was spared any MAJOR lasting effects of the stroke. I had some short-term weakness that, through physical therapy was resolved but my recovery was anything but pleasant. My life was not the same. I could not drive. I could not work as I had before. I could not control my life. I’d done it all myself before, but now it was different, now I needed help. I had to let people take on certain roles. My mother had to drive me to work. I had to have blood checked on a monthly basis. I had to manage medication. No, it was not a horrible transition but it was a change from the way things were. And I mourned the way things were, I grieved to have my old life back before the unexpected came. I was angry, I was hurt. My entire life changed after my stroke. 

 

We have to learn to let others help us. This is not always the way society thinks, we are told to be resilient and reliant on ourselves. We are told trust no one.  We can save ourselves. Our culture has bread these stigmas: There are stigmas about seeking counseling and taking depression medication.  There is the stigma associated with the fear of asking to talk with a Pastor or a religious leader. There is a huge market for self-help books; some from a religious perspective others from a psychological perspective. Either way they give the illusion we can do everything on our own. I believe that these stigmas and examples are not life-giving. They only add to our despair and suffering. We need each other and we need a God who will look us in the face. (gesture with arms outstretched again)

 

I’m not very willing, even today, to let others carry me when I am burdened. I have this false sense that I must stand strong, being an example of the steadfastness found in faithful people. This is life-destroying rather than life-giving.

 

We cannot journey alone in the world and we must share our lives or we will be consumed by our suffering. Pastoral Care Theologian, Sharon Thornton, says, “Consider the darkness of suffering, the mystery of suffering for which there is no answer, there is only response. Part of this mystery is this, when I allow you to enter my suffering or when you allow me to enter yours, the darkness is lifted. Our connectedness allows us to envelope our individual suffering”. Suffering is consuming ultimately destroys us. Sharing our suffering and experience allows it to be released into the world. But, we also have to share our suffering with God. This is not a journey alone. God knows our suffering. A journey in the darkness is never completely without some light. The light of God shines through, pushing us to share our darkness with others to create more light.

 

A year later, almost to the day I was back at that southeastern retreat center on a trip with youth. What the youth didn’t know is I visited the camp the day before. I needed to bring supplies down and set-up and it was time to do some healing. I parked the car, got out and walked across a gravel road towards that spot. No noise, just the sound of my feet crunching, towards that place where my life changed forever, where every struggle of the previous year began. I stood at the spot, letting the wind whirl around me, letting God help me heal. And these words from a Hootie and the Blowfish song came to my mind,

         Yesterday, I saw you standing there

         Your head was down your eyes were red

         I said get up, and let me see your smile

         We’ll walk the road together, for awhile

         Hold my hand, just hold my hand

         Because I want to love you the best I can.

I stood up, took my pain and suffering and I walked away from that spot. I have a very clear image of God standing with me – walking with me – loving me. My mat, comes with me, I don’t lie on it anymore. 

 

Where does the man go from here? Our story leaves us with little to ponder, other than he stood up, took his mat and left the house out the front door and not the ceiling. The important piece here is he took his mat with him. The thing that kept him connected, and together, the tangible object that identified his paralysis, he took it with him. The unexpected, changes in life always stay with us. They become part of our journey and part of how we represent ourselves to the world.

 

You can imagine how I have gravitated towards this story. I have thought of it often because throughout my journey I have seen my self as the paralytic man, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Whether I am needing to feel the eyes of Christ on me, or learn to let my friends carry me, whether I need healed or I need to pickup my hurt and carry it with me while I continue the journey – at some point, maybe often we all journey as the paralytic man. We all need the love of God, we all need to let others bear our weight, we all need to let something go and we all continue to walk through life with our mats.

 

Don’t worry; you didn’t miss the class in school where they taught people how to deal with the unexpected in life. No one prepares us to move forward into something new and different. No one prepares us for how we will feel and grow when life changes. No one teaches us to deal with tragedy. No one teaches us to deal with sorrow or heart-ache.

 

But, the unexpected changes us. We don’t leave the same way we arrived. We are different. We arrive through the roof, sometimes dangling from the ropes of friends letting our suffering look into the eyes of God. And we leave by the front door, taking the unexpected with us, but we carry the mat now, instead of lying on it.

 

Amen.