Broken Strings

On my way home from work today, I turned on the radio just in time to hear the program "Joni and Friends." Below are some snippets of what I heard...

"Jack Reimer, a syndicated columnist, recently wrote a story about the great violinist Yitzhak Perlman. It seems Perlman had polio as a child and he walks with crutches and braces on both legs. Instead of arranging to be seated on stage at the beginning of his performance, he chooses to walk across the stage methodically and slowly until he reaches his chair. Then he sits down, puts his crutches on the floor, undoes the clasps on his legs, bends down and picks up the violin, nods to the conductor and proceeds to play. As Reimer describes it, there is a certain majesty in this ritual.

Well, immediately after beginning a concert some years ago, everyone could hear a string snap on his violin. Perlman stopped and gazed at the broken string as the audience wondered what he would do. Then Yitzhak Perlman closed his eyes and after a moment he signaled the conductor to begin again.

Though anyone who knows music knows that it's impossible to play a symphonic work with just three strings, Perlman was undaunted. Apparently, you could see this great artist recomposing the piece in his head and inventing new fingering positions to coax never before heard sounds from his three-string violin. The sophisticated New York audience watched and listened in awe knowing they were witnessing a truly extraordinary virtuoso performance. When the piece was over they exploded into appreciative applause. Mr. Perlman smiled, wiped the sweat from his brow and said in a soft, reverent tone, "You know, sometimes it is the artist's task to find out how much music you can still make with what you have left."

Wow! What a wonderful lesson. Whatever strings are broken in our lives, if we concentrate, if we apply what we know, we can still play beautiful music on what we have left. Oh sure, there's regret and heartache, but soon you learn that your life becomes a recomposition, a series of new chords. It is truly a process of "learning to be content," as the apostle Paul put it.

When God said in the Old Testament, "Look, I'm about to do something new" or when He had Jeremiah say, "I have plans for you, hopeful plans for a future"... when God said all that, I think He had in mind broken strings. With God orchestrating it all, it's got to be beautiful music, right?"
---Joni Erickson Tada

Sunday, July 14

The weather was perfect for Sunday night's picnic. A wonderful and varied group of people joined us for a Chicken Barbeque meal and visiting in the back yard: we were honored to have Carl's orthopedic surgeon here with his wife and children, as well as some of the first responders who were at the accident scene last summer. Many of our family and friends came too, we felt blessed to have you here! I have posted some pictures below.

It was a lovely evening for a picnic

The Amish woman who called 911 after Carl's accident

Both Carl and I talked a bit about our experiences throughout the past 10 months

Carson gave wagon rides on the 4-wheeler

Carl with one of the first responders who was at the scene of the accident

Grandma and the doctor!

Picnic on the grass...

Carl's orthopedic surgeon, Dr. Essis and family

lots of visiting!

A group of people gathered around to pray for us.

Grad Party

Last evening we hosted our first picnic of the summer, a graduation celebration for Tessa. It was a beautiful Spring Sunday and it was great to have family and friends here! There were dozens of teenagers in the backyard, and Carl, who is definitely in his element in these settings, organized a Bocce Ball Tournament for the kids--with prize money for the winners! He gave four-wheeler rides to the little ones and did all his behind-the-scenes organizing, as he always does.

But he pays a price for this "normalcy". At night, after he is more active than usual, his foot screams at him. The pain wears on him, it tires him, it slows him...

After nearly 10 months, it is hard for me to see him still dealing with pain on a daily basis. And I am powerless to do anything about it. At this point he basically has two options, neither one very good: either live with pain or live with the effects of drugs. And because I am in this with him, those are also my choices, although from a slightly different perspective. (I often think about how Carl used to tell me while I was laboring to give birth to one of our children, how helpless he felt. I think I sort of know now what he meant.)

I am researching and learning about chronic pain, although I even hesitate to label it this way. Neither Carl nor I believe his pain will go on for always, we continue to hope and pray that the nerves in his foot will heal, that his leg muscles will strengthen, that he will not have to experience so much discomfort permanently.

But if the "diagnosis" qualifies even for the short run, at least I feel like I have somewhere to turn for some understanding and clarity.

According to experts, you can live a full and meaningful life in spite of health issues. Millions of people living with chronic conditions have used their struggles as a springboard for spiritual, relational and emotional growth. Many have gone on to launch new ministries, careers, and friendships. Eventually, as we are finding, you adjust to a new normal.

I know it's possible to learn to cope successfully with limitations—we just need to remember that we are not dealing only with physical symptoms; instead, we're learning to cast everything in a different light-- relationally, emotionally, spiritually and physically.

We are not alone but sometimes it does feel lonely. No one can live this life for Carl, not even his "want-to-fix-everything" wife. He does not complain. His true colors come through over and over and he does not take out his frustrations on his family. In fact, I really believe this experience has brought us closer.

Isaiah 61:3: "To console those who mourn in Zion, to give them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they may be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the LORD, that He may be glorified."

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." (Jeremiah 29:11)