Villages

When I wrote yesterday's post, I was so dog tired I wasn't even sure it would make any sense. {So if, by chance, it did not make sense, there's your explanation.}

But I do have a funny story for you! By about 10:00 the night of surgery, Ryan was over the worst of the nausea, and by about 11, he seemed ready to sleep. We were advised to have him sleep sitting up for a while, and the recliner seemed most comfortable, so he was curled up there for the night. I let myself fall asleep when it seemed like he was doing the same and woke up at midnight to find Ryan cleaning the kitchen.

I asked what he was doing, and he said, "Oh, you know. Just washing some dishes. And what do you think if we installed a pot rack right here?"

I'm a night owl, but I confess I wasn't quite coherent enough for that one!

By yesterday morning, he was feeling considerably better in the nausea department, but he started feeling the pain a little more yesterday. I tried to get him to rest as much as I could, which sometimes was a bit easier than others. {He confuses getting up and walking around with doing chores.}

I've learned a thing or two in the last 48 hours.

This was our first time to have Ryan truly down for the count - beyond a cold or some flu bug. And while I love him to pieces and am happy to set aside my own work for the week in order to serve him well, I'm not always a great nurse. Especially when there's the threat of throwing up. I'm just completely out of the game where that is concerned. People say you can do extraordinary things for those you love, and I believe that is true, but that's where I am just out. And for a while, I felt pretty guilty about it - like I was some sort of inferior wife because I just literally could not, but I learned that's not true.

Ryan knows that's my weakness and he doesn't ask me to do what I cannot. He wasn't mad because I was literally sweating profusely when confronted by the possibility of actual sickness. He understood my panic and that I was visibly shaking, and he didn't ask me to do what I couldn't.

And where I had weakness, God provided strength through a village of friends and family. In the recovery room, Ryan's dad stayed with him for a bit so I could gather my wits about me. After we got home, our friend Shawn stopped by and let me just sit for a minute while he stayed with him to logically assess the situation and help me know how to proceed.

He provided in so many other ways, too. My parents brought me dinner after surgery, because I just didn't have it within me to cook for myself, and I hadn't really eaten all day. One of the pastors' wives at our new church showed up at our house with a latte yesterday morning, sat with us for a few minutes, and told me she knew sometimes caretakers need a little love too. Ryan's boss and his wife brought us some chicken noodle soup for dinner. Friends texted throughout the day to see if we needed anything that they could bring to us.

I used to be pretty terrible about accepting help. I squared my shoulders and declared I. would. do. it. my. self. But I'm learning to let the village help. Because on good days, I'm part of the village, and I want to help the rest. And this week I'm learning to let the village help us. I'm learning to not hate myself for my weaknesses but to trust God to either strengthen me through them or provide relief from a villager.

So I'm learning. The villages matter. Both sides matter. Those able to give and those in need. And we fill both roles at different times. What a beautiful design God has given! We are grateful.