Finding Joy in the Journey


wimpyShe called me Wimpy. Can you believe it? It’s been over two weeks, but I can’t get it out of my mind. The image at left is the first one that came to mind. I know, I know, I’m telling my age here, but I promise Popeye cartoons had long been syndicated when I watched them and read them as a child.

I’m NOT Wimpy! I can understand why my friend (I will call her Mona) could consider me Wimpy. She does not know me very well. Mona did not know me when I was thrown into the furnace. The only people I had with me during that journey were my husband, my parents, my precious little two-year-old son and several friends thousands of miles away. And Jesus. Always Jesus.

When I was in the hospital 24 years ago, the only comfort I had other than the short visits from family was my Bible. I pulled that Bible out a few months ago. It is worn, the cover tattered and the pages marked, highlighted and some torn. I poured over scripture while I waited for our daughters to be born. I begged God to save them, to heal them and make them whole. He answered those prayers, but He healed them by taking them to heaven. It took a while for me to understand and let go. I had so much faith I would bring at least one of the babies home! But it was not to be.

Now here I am 24 years later preparing for knee replacement surgery. I hope my doctor will agree to replace both knees so I won’t have to go through surgery again for a very long time. But Mona said I shouldn’t do it because I’m too WIMPY. Sigh…I’m sure many of our heroes in the Bible thought they were too wimpy to carry out God’s instructions. Moses comes to mind. He tried to pin the responsibility for negotiating with Pharaoh on his brother Aaron, but God said, “No, Moses, YOU do it!” It worked out pretty well, though Moses was a hothead and had to be put in time out. The man who led the Hebrews out of Egypt was not allowed to enter the Promised Land because of His pride (Numbers 20.) Even though Moses was disobedient, Jewish tradition teaches that he died by the “kiss of God” and Numbers 34:6 states that God Himself buried him. Can you imagine such an honor?

No, Moses wasn’t wimpy. Neither am I. No amount of physical pain can compare to the pain I’ve already suffered. Nothing. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t expect it to be easy. I will, of course, follow my doctor’s wishes. But I am ready to live again. It’s time. I will never be an American Ninja Warrior (one of my husband’s favorite tv shows); I just want to be able to play with my grandchild(ren) someday.

God will give me the strength to get through it. He has never let me down. I know He never will.

Until next time.



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