One Day in May

Some days I want to run. Far and away. Funny thing though – I’d have to shuffle there. Running isn’t an option any more. So, in this situation, is the cup half full or half empty?

Let’s ponder this reality of the progression of PD in our lives…

You can barely brush your teeth alone.
Half full: you’ve got a great reason now to give to the dental hygienist when she gets all over you for not flossing six times an hour.
Half empty: when we smile there will be spinach stuck between our teeth and it’ll look like moss is growing out of our mouths. This could, however, prove to be extremely useful in certain circumstances.

Hence, this is a half full item.

Take the running topic. We don’t run. We shuffle. Is this a half full or half empty situation?
Well, half full would mean you are forced to stop and smell the roses along the way as you shuffle by. People think you now just really know how to experience goodness. But then, the half empty syndrome could take over and as you make the best of that shuffle and smell that rose, you may get a bumble bee up your nose. (Trust me – it happens.) So, which is it?

I say half full, for the fragrance of that rose is worth every shuffled step, especially when the old smeller is losing it’s power and every scent is a treasure.

So what about the smell factor? Many of us suffer from not being able to smell like we used to (and I am not necessarily meaning this literally). Is this an automatic half empty viewpoint? No way! I thank God every time I hear someone pass gas that I can’t smell like I used to! It’s a blessing! You have got to take the blessings with the struggles or the struggles will just plain… stink!

Now, here’s my last point: tremors. You may ask what good can there be in tremors? They shake you up, tire you out, stiffen what’s left of the word limber and they’re annoying. But, let me tell you a story about what happened the other day.

My husband and I were driving through Oregon on the way to my daughter’s graduation. It was windy as we drove along the Columbia River, headed toward Portland. The trees, covered with new growth, were swaying and their leaves clapping in the wind. It reminded me of Isaiah, where it says,

You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace;
the mountains and hills will burst into song before you,
and all the trees of the field will clap their hands.

My husband stopped at Multnomah Falls so that I could take a picture. I got out to snap my shot and above me was the largest bald eagle I had ever seen. I felt like I could have touched it. It’s wingspread was enormous and it hovered above me for a good thirty seconds as I stood below him in awe. I was speechless at the beauty and glory of God. I laughed. I told God he was pretty amazing. I glanced at the trees and a burst of wind power pushed its way past me and through the trees and once more, there they stood, clapping their leaves in praise to their Creator.

As I stood in wonder, I lifted my right arm to the sky to thank God for such a wonderful moment and that’s when it happened. The tremors took over. As my arm was raised, my hand shook involuntarily. And bad. Or was it good? For, as I stood there, a tear went down my cheek as I realized that in unison with the leaves of the trees, my hand was moving in the same way and praising God.

If I had a cup at that moment, it would have been more than half full. PD might take my ability to move when and how I want to move, but it still allows me to praise God, sometimes in ways I would never have imagined!

Isaiah spoke truth: God truly will lead us in joy and peace, into such a place where we, just like those trees, will be clapping in adoration.

So, I challenge you – next time you are holding what seems to be a half empty cup, put it down, wipe the moss from your teeth, smell that rose and raise your hand in praise to God and remember… it could always be worse.

Sherri

Tagged As: hope, PD, sherri woodbridge