Sometimes the best view comes from turning around to see how far you’ve come.
“Once I died early on a Sunday morning, and Dad told me to get up, walk it off, and get ready for church.”
If you’re like me, you had to read that a couple of times to grasp the humor, and then maybe you got a case of the giggles.
The quote comes from one of Donna Poole’s delightful essay books in her Backroad Ramblings four-book series. She’s been battling cancer for years and has also undergone brain surgery for an aneurysm. Yet, her outlook on life, and death, is not only contagious but also inspiring.
As a pastor’s wife, mother and grandmother on Michigan backroads, her life provides plenty of fodder for her work.
Mind if I share a few more insights from her?
Here’s more of her humor: “Life for everyone is a mess of contradictions. It’s like a guy with hairy legs sticking out of shorts, feet shoved into flip flops – and wearing a winter jacket, a John Deere knit beanie, and gloves.”
That paints quite a word picture, doesn’t it?
She offers more than just humor, though.
When her sister Eve was first diagnosed with cancer, Eve had a request: “Donna, please don’t ask God to give me extra years. You remember what happened to Mom when we prayed that. Just pray I’ll glorify him with the time I have left.” Later in the book, Donna writes, “Now it’s my turn to fight cancer, my turn to ask people to pray I’ll glorify God with the time I have left.”
In one of her other essays, she offers this perspective on her diagnosis: “I’ve already found one blessing from my cancer diagnosis; it has given me new emotional glasses. I see better what matters and what doesn’t. And I’m beginning to understand how silly and counterproductive worry and frustration really are.”
I just finished reading one of her essays in the final book in which she and her husband, John, attempted to go camping for the first time in three years (she has mobility issues). After hobbling a mile or so, she hoped for a view but was disappointed. But when they turned around to see how far they had come, they got their view, and then some.
“Maybe that’s what it’s all about,” she writes, “not seeing where we’re going, but looking at the beauty of where we’ve been, and thanking God for the memories, even for the struggles that got us where we are today, at the top of the hill, looking back.”
Her outlook is inspiring me on days when my body won’t cooperate. I have spina bifida occulta (a mild form of spina bifida) in my lower back and it’s kicked in full force, or so it would seem. It causes lower back pain and two of my vertebrae to press on my spinal cord, especially when I’m active, and that leads to a sense of numbness in my legs.
I’m 60, however, an age at which I should expect to experience various ailments, especially given my history of playing sports. And when I look back at my life, I’m so incredibly thankful to have been able to do so much.
Don’t worry, I’m not giving up. I’m just pausing here to express my gratitude to God as I trust him with the next steps in my health journey. Like Donna on that hill, I’m looking back at how far God has brought me.
If you’re interested in Donna’s essay books, pick them up here: Backroad Ramblings. I have also written a series of essays, called Finding Common Ground, you might want to check out.
