I love to laugh.
I understand suffering.
Those are both parts of who I am, and sometimes conversations with the people I’m closest to span both ends of that spectrum of human experience. This week, I had a great conversation with one of my best friends who has had deep conversations with me about suffering in the work of Wiesel and has also laughed with me about the most trivial things imaginable. This week, our conversation again spanned that wide range.
Desiree brought me to tears as she cried with me while processing how the Lord listens to us cry out to him in different life circumstances and can be glorified by the way we cry based on what suffering he is leading us through. It’s a complicated thing, theodicy and all that, but there’s some beauty in recognizing that the God of the Bible – YHWH who walked through the animals laid out by Abraham and who made Joseph prosper from what his brothers intended as harm – this beautiful Father of life, Healer of the broken, walks beside me and listens to my cry today just as he held me close and heard my cry twenty months ago when I first broke my back, ten years ago when I broke relationships with my best friends, and every other moment in my life.
He also hears those special pleas to hold back gas at inconvenient moments. As Desiree and I processed these deep ideas, our conversation turned to how I, as a diagnosed complete paraplegic, lack full control of all bathroom functions. This includes the ability to hold back farts. Actually, I’m quite adept at this for my diagnosis. Most people with my condition have no control at all, but I’ve thus far held back any publicly embarrassing moments in professional settings. I was sharing with Desiree about how I have had some close calls that led to particularly fervent prayers for the Lord to hold back the gastrointestinal noises eager to escape. She was able to empathize with similar prayers during her pregnancy, and we spent several minutes laughing loudly at the beauty of a Lord who hears our tears of lament alongside our tears of joy.
What a gift that I can occasionally control my farts. Praise the Lord.
Very seriously.
That’s actually a very promising sign of future return of bladder and bowel control. I’m fervently asking the Lord for every bit of that function and praising him for the moments when he steps in to control what I cannot. Join with me in praising God for the ability to laugh about farts and cry about what I’m still missing. Join with me in asking for everything back.
