Because we need reminders . . .
If you read last Monday’s post, you know I shared my experience of having a minor stroke. I’m ten days out now, and doing remarkably well. The only lingering effects seem to be some bruised ribs from falling and continued numbness in two finger of my left hand.
But I think the numbness is fading.
And as weird as it sounds, losing the numbness makes me a little sad.
Because something happened to me. Something significant. And I know it happened and wasn’t just a crazy dream because these two fingers feel odd. I know it because my left hand doesn’t work quite as well when I’m tired.
You know how it can be when something dramatic happens. You lose your job. You fall in love. You wreck your car. You inherit some money. Something unexpected happens and it changes your life.
But then . . .
You get used to the new thing. You find a new job. You take love for granted. You buy a new car. You tuck the money in the bank for a rainy day. It’s not a big deal anymore, it’s just your new normal.
The Israelites were chased by the Egyptians right up to the edge of the Red Sea. They were done for and they knew it. Then God parted the sea and destroyed the army chasing them. Talk about dramatic. Talk about life-changing.
But what did the Israelites do just three days later? They grumbled because there was no water to drink. I’m not saying it wasn’t scary, not having good water, but they’d seen God part a sea three days earlier. And then they thought he’d let them die of thirst.
How quickly we forget.
I don’t want to forget. I don’t want to forget the way God has been oh-so-present with me throughout this stroke experience. I don’t want to forget the lessons he’s taught me. I don’t want to forget how blessed I am. How beloved.
And each time I brush my hair back and notice the strangeness of my fingers; each time I rub my dog’s ears and fail to feel their silkiness; each time I sit down to type and have to trust my hands to find the way without the fine brush of fingertips against keys . . .
. . . then I remember. God is with me. And this, too, is part of his plan. I need reminding and so, am grateful for it.