Two years ago, almost to the day, I had shoulder surgery. What was supposed to be a simple scope turned into a full on labrum repair and I was in a sling for the next six weeks.
Good times.
Fast forward two years, and I’m entering the end of January feeling good about my workouts and my health. I’m back on a fitness routine and while I’m not setting any power lifting records, I’m at least feeling good.
Until Monday night.
The details that play out from here don’t really matter.
What matters is that feeling that I know you’ve all had.
That feeling of your body betraying you. That feeling that you’ve finally set yourself on the right course or destination for healing and happiness, and then suddenly, you can’t have it because your body has other plans.
Suddenly, I go from kicking ass and taking names to sliding down the stairs on mu butt because I can’t put weight on my knee.
And it sucks.
But, last week was also what would have been the 70th birthday of my mentor, Father Drexler. He was a priest who mentored me while I was in college, and though he has been gone for over 20 years, I can still remember one of his greatest lessons, as he lay dying of cancer.
He allowed people to care for him.
And that’s hard.
It takes a lot of courage to ask for help. I think it takes comfort in your own skin. And yes, I think above all it takes strength.
Right now, my knee is messed up and it’s hard to do certain things, but I’m hell-bent on doing those things on my own. It’s my pride and ego that get in the way. I can do it and leave me alone.
But as Father Drexler eventually lay dying, he had this incredibly grace to let us do for him. He was only 54 years old at the time, but he let people read to him, bring him food, and pray over him. He gave us all the gift of allowing us to give to him.
And what a gift that was to me.
I've watched the Brene Brown talks on vulnerability. I've got a pretty solid intellectual understanding of what it means to be vulnerable. But living in that space?
That's a whole different animal altogether.
Father Drexler was keenly aware that students like myself wanted nothing more than to do something for him. We needed to feel useful. We just wanted to help. And he gave us the gift of allowing us to help him. That’s a gift I still feel two decades later.
I’m sure you’ve been in a position before where you’ve seen a friend or family member go through a difficult time. And all you want to do is help. But if the situation is reversed you might find yourself shrugging everyone off.
Nah, I'm good. I got this.
Or find yourself frustrated.
I'm fine! Stop asking! I'm good!
Maybe, just maybe, there is more grace and kindness in allowing another to do for us, than resisting their helping hand.
Be kind,