Blog Post: (from blog started during Papa’s illness)

Discontentment

dis·con·tent

/diskənˈtent/

noun

1. lack of contentment; dissatisfaction with one’s circumstances. (as stated by Google
2. a restless longing for better circumstances (as stated by the Free Dictionary)

Papa came home today.  We were glad to see this moment come, but apprehensive all the same.  It’s one thing to be in a hospital facility surrounded by nursers and doctors and rehab specialists.  A call-button within arm’s reach.  Meals magically appearing three times a day.  Room mopped, bed made, without lifting as little as a finger.  Your care in the hands of experienced individuals who do this sort of thing day in and day out.  But back home again?  With just you and the Mrs. (a.k.a. Nana)?  Well that’s another thing all together.  Not that this is more than you can handle together, it’s just something you haven’t had to handle together.  Until now.

I met Papa and Nana at their place today to help Papa get settled in.  As I unloaded Papa’s new gear from their van, I was struck by the oddity of it all.

First came the walker.  With small, cautious steps, Papa used it to climb up the garage steps and then make his way into the house , Nana and I alongside and behind him, “spotting” him and holding our breath lest he misstep and our strength be relied upon to prevent a fall.  A sigh of relief from us all when he successfully made it to the recliner and was sitting once again.

Next came the “commode” – a very distinguished-sounding name for a potty chair.  Papa did a dry run to ensure the chair was of the proper height, etc. and adjustments were made as necessary.

Then out came the shower stool, or seat, more specifically.  The shower footprint had previously been measured and diagramed by Nana so the proper sized stool would be acquired to fit in their odd-shaped shower.  It fit like a charm and a non-slip mat was added to the shower floor to prevent any slippery falls.

Lastly, came the wheelchair.  Quite ironic really.  For years, Papa & Nana have been involved in a ministry of providing used wheel chairs to those in need.  Countless times, they’ve picked up and delivered numerous wheel chairs for this ministry; and now here we were, unloading one of those very wheel chairs for Papa to use.  Surreal indeed.

I’m more than okay with helping Papa as best I can in the midst of this – this is what I want to do.  What I’m not okay with is the rest of this….. this cancer stuff.  Part of me feels guilty for feeling this way, for not being more grateful.  After all, Papa is still with us.  I am so grateful for that, but find myself asking, “shouldn’t I be more ‘okay,’ more content?”  Certainly, it could be a whole lot worse.  This is true.

But on the flip side, it could be a heck of a lot better:

Like Papa could be back to normal.  No need for walkers, commodes, shower seats, or wheel chairs.  Able to talk in a way we could perfectly understand.  Able to sleep at night without worrying about having to get up a gazillion times to use the bathroom.  Able to go to the bathroom by himself, without having to enlist the help of a nurse, or Nana.  Able to go about his day without thinking about cancer and how it’s changed his life, and how it will continue to change his life, and about how much life he’s got left to live.

Am I supposed to be okay with this?  Is he?  Are any of us expected to be okay with this?

Cancer is NOT okay.  It stinks.  Plain and simple, and not simple at all.  If any of us were okay with this, we probably wouldn’t be okay in the first place.  I’d/we’d have to have a few loose screws to be okay with this.  We’d have to be checked out on reality to be okay with this.

So yes, I’m discontent.  And Papa is, and a whole lot of other people are as we face this stinkin’ thing called cancer and all the crummy junk it carries along with it.  We’re “dissatisfied with our circumstances” and have a “restless longing for better circumstances.”  And THAT is okay.

Discontent with our present circumstances because we’re longing for something better.  And isn’t that the way we were created to be?  To not just settle for what life brings our way, but to look beyond that.  To look heavenward.

In my discontent, I’m reminded:

“What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?  He who did not spare his own Son, but gave Him up for us all—how will He not also, along with Him, graciously give us all things?…  Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?  As it is written:

‘For your sake we face death all day long;

we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.’

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us.  For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

(Romans 8:31, 35-38)

Discontent in these present circumstances, but content in Christ.

And that is truly an okay spot to be in.