Beginning Week 3 and Empathy

“Compassion is sometimes the fatal capacity for feeling what it is like to live inside somebody else's skin. It is the knowledge that there can never really be any peace and joy for me until there is peace and joy finally for you too.” Frederick Buechner

We are two weeks into the surgery. Given the immense nature of a hip osteotomy and the longevity of the healing process, you can imagine how much I look forward to getting outside, feeling the sun on my face, and tasting this end-of-summer/pre-fall weather that came upon us this weekend in Indianapolis. So, on Friday, bad mood and all, Nate took me out for a drive and stopped at the Monon (a local bike/running path in Indy) trail for a wheelchair walk. We also stopped to get a little dessert to heal the post-surgery blues. It was strangely romantic and at the same time, vulnerable and exposing. As Nate wheeled me into Huddles for frozen yogurt, I noticed a very different world around me. Kids and adults alike looking intently at this curious 30-year-old in a wheelchair. I recall feeling less confident than usual, putting my head down as to not see the eyes gazing with curiosity. I felt, as I'd imagine to feel, handicapped.

This weekend I have thought a number of times about Friday evening. I tried to enter the "feelings" of what it is like to be "not-so-normal" in this world. And then, I also thought of those who ran across the ice cream store to simply open the door for us. Compassion overtook me as I thought of those who live in this "not-so-normal" way EVERY DAY. Someone else bathes them, EVERY DAY. Someone else has to push them around, take them to the restroom, feed them, brush their hair, EVERY DAY.

And so I thank the Lord for this lesson, this reflection. It stirs a more grateful heart in me when I start to feel sorry for myself. And, it reminds me of the strength within those who know this "handicapped" way so intimately-and then also, the beauty that exists in this world in the form of those who open doors, wait patiently, or stare with kindness and wonder. The Lord has allowed me to take a peak into this unique lifestyle and grow a deep respect for those who are both caretakers and "care-taked, " still living with faith, hope, and love.

It also reminds me to pray for those who struggle to see the beauty within the disability--those who have been overtaken by the bitterness and anger that can so easily overtake a person.

I will choose empathy and gratitude today.

p.s. Thanks to Todd and Angelin for the new Buechner book...