|Posted by ruthsmithmeyer-com on May 13, 2012 at 9:15 PM|
A gentleman sat in the screened porch of his cottage in the mountains. Against the outside wall his three grandchildren played with their toys. His wife leaned against his shoulder. Through the screen one could see a pristine lake reflecting the blue skies and the grandeur of a rugged, snow-capped mountain.
“You know,” he said, “Sitting here, all I can see are those dirty screens full of bugs and dead flies. I really need to clean them.”
In that moment, his beautiful grandchildren and the gorgeous scenery went unnoticed. His focus was riveted on the dirty screen.
In any given situation, we have a choice of views. We can choose to concentrate on what is right in front of us, a few feet or yards in front of us or we can look further into the distance at the long-range view.
I sat last week, sharing the yucky post-surgery woes of, and thinking of the unsuccessful venture to remove the tumors from his spine. I looked up at the panorama outside my dear Wise One’s 9th floor hospital room and thought of that little story. I too had choices before me.
I could look at the flies on the screen of our present situation
• The fears about the possible growth of the tumors and consequent paralyzation
• The treatment and side effects
• The plans that would have to be cancelled
• The end of life as we knew it and the journey with cancer that would dominate our days.
• The pain and suffering that may be involved
But I realized I could choose to focus on what is right in front of me:
• The wonderful support of our families.
• The amazing prayer support of our churches, friends and their churches and friends of our friends.
• The wonderful gift God gave Paul and I in bringing us together in this season of our lives.
• The days, and by God’s grace, months and perhaps years we may still have.
• The loving and committed care of the nurses, the skills of our doctors and other support staff.
I can also look beyond the screen
• to the tapestry of my life in the larger view of God’s presence woven through the pattern of my years,
• the rich hues, dark and light, with which he coloured my days.
• And far off on the horizon, the promise of eternal life with him and reuniting with those I love.
What a view!