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Sticks versus grace... Choosing grace.


 For my lovely friend, Sally-Anne, who always brings light into my life, 
and whose precious words I've quoted at the end.
---------------

One of my diabetic patients asks me if she can eat "just one piece of cake each day." Flourless chocolate cake. With icing all around. Her family has recently celebrated a birthday and there is so much left over.

"Just one piece a day... Until it is finished."

She knows the answer, she hadn't needed to ask the question. And her pleading eyes reflect it.

Yet her question invites me to hold out the big stick,.. to rap her over the knuckles and set the no-more-chocolate-cake limits for her.

And it's sometimes far easier this way, feigning ignorance, proverbially hiding an ostrich-head in the sand and taking no responsibility.

So I hesitate in weighing my answer, hoping to choose the kindest, most helpful words possible to answer her rhetorical question.

I already know she's not here for another healthy lifestyle lecture. Nor to be once again told of the complications of uncontrolled diabetes. 

She's seeking reassurance in the face of her failures. She's asking me for renewed motivation and hope.

I ponder a recent discussion with one of my children and remember the phrase I had used to explain.

"Sometimes-food". I realise I have said it out loud, and our eyes meet in understanding.

"I know I have to own these decisions. I'm just not there yet."   She looks down as she speaks, then lifts her eyes back to mine, nervously waiting my response.

I nod and smile. Taking responsibility is so very hard. 

I am not diabetic. I cannot presume to know the frustrating limitations of the diagnosis, and most likely never will...., no matter how much chocolate cake I consume. 

But in my case this is probably thanks to family genetics, and definitely not a result of good culinary self-discipline. 

Yet there are other areas of my life where I fall so far short. And the insight does not always translate to making good decisions. I too am an imperfect work in progress.

And I too ask rhetorical questions.  

I seek out others to tell me what I already know. Again and again.  

To revalidate me. To pick me up and give me renewed hope when I fall.

Real change is born from failure.  
And we get there by grace, the new-every-morning grace of a Father who loves us,....
And of those who choose to, with forgiveness, continue walking beside us.

I tell my patient it is okay. Tomorrow is a new day. With new strength and renewed grace. 

And I'm reminded of the recent warm birthday-blessing words of a close friend, as I gently steer my patient back on track.

"I think of us as two people who cheer each other along from the sides of life," she had said.

I value the gift of her words. There is such life-giving weight in them.
Because there are already enough people in this life wielding sticks.

What we need is more grace.
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Comments

  1. AnonymousNovember 9, 2013 at 2:00 AM

    "I think of us as two people who cheer each other along from the sides of life," - I love these words. True grace. True friendship.

    ReplyDelete

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