What Does Not Destroy Me

"What does not kill me, only makes me stronger."

I have read this statement of Friedrich Nietzsche many time.  It is even quoted at times.  I suppose it is brought up in an effort to make people feel better about the dire circumstances that they are experiencing.

The only problem with this statement is that it is patently false.  I can tell you that if you have the choice of getting pneumonia (a) after a hip replacement surgery, (b) after a severe case of influenza or, (c) when you haven't been ill for months and are otherwise healthy, you should choose (c).

Things that do not kill me can still leave me a lot weaker and more suceptible to injury or, infection.

Even in a non-physical sense, there are plenty of wounds that go very deep and are never healed.  There are things that while they do not kill, they still cut deeply into the spirit and psyche.

Nietzsche was of course coming from the perspective of the superman.  This was (a mythical) individual who could rise above all things and endure all things without fear.

My experience is quite different.  For, what I have found is that it is only by placing my future in God's hands am I able to trust that circumstances will not destroy me.  It is only with His strength that I can avoid falling.  For, the fresh wounds of today have a real tendency to become seeping ulcers, ready to break open at any point -- but for the grace of God and His healing.

Yard Signs

It is a time of year when signs start popping up in yards across communities in these United States.  These signs indicate support of a candidate running for prosecutor, or sherriff or, some other noteworthy office.

Obviously, these signs identify the owner of a particular yard with the name on the sign and I suppose, by default, as being opposed to that candidates well-esteemed opponent.

More than three thousand years ago, a man named Joshua stood before a group of Jews and told them "Choose you this day whom you will serve... but as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord."  In a sense, Joshua was putting a campaign sign for his God in his front yard.

It takes bravery to make such a stand, but in the end it is totally worth it.  For, Jesus has promised to honor those who honor Him.

Frozen

A couple of weeks ago, quite suddenly with a smell like wires burning, our hot water heater gave up the ghost.  For about twenty-four hours after that, the water coming from the faucets in our home had only one temperature -- two degrees above freezing.

I know this, because I elected to take a shower -- a quite courageous act that I'm sure none of my coworkers truly appreciated.  By the end, I looked much like Princess Anna at the end of Frozen.  Quite clean, perhaps, but chilled to the bone.

It certainly wasn't a very long shower.  The lack of warm water had a chilling effect on my ability to enjoy the experience.

I can tell you that I haven't thanked God for hot water many times in the past, but I have several times since we got our hot water heater replaced.

It is hard to count your blessings if you don't realize that they are blessings.  Sad to say, it is when I lose one that I tend to realize what a blessing it was.

I know that I never valued hot water until I was turned into a shivering ice cube.

I do now.

"Get well son!"

I stood in the hospital room, chatting with an older, somewhat confused lady about her medical condition and why she was in the hospital.  I finished and moved towards the door.  "All right," I said.  "Hopefully you continue to improve and maybe we can discharge you to home tomorrow."

"Is your little boy sick?"  Hazel asked me out of the blue.

I stopped, taken aback and wondering if she was asking about Vince, or Elliot.  "Um... no,"  I said.  "I think both of them are well.  What are you talking about?"

"What it says up there," Hazel said.  "Get well, son!"

I looked at the board where a nurse had written a number of goals for my patient.  And there in  the corner, she had written "Get well soon!" but sloppily enough that could be mistaken for a different word.

It is usually doctors who are accused of having bad handwriting, but obviously there are plenty of nurses who have their struggles as well.  Still, the goal of writing or, speaking is communication.

Sharing ideas, expressing empathy, or even giving criticism all requires words.  I am afraid that all too often the message behind the words is lost in their murkiness.

So, whether I am writing or speaking, I want to be clear.  I don't want any of my patients to wonder if I am addressing them, or someone's little boy.