Tuesday, 23 August 2011

The Challenge

I don't challenge myself. I'm too comfortable, that's probably why. The hardest thing I've ever done was to experience labor, and that was only because I HAD to.  When my due date was finally looming over me, and I had not succeeded in convincing ANYONE else to take my place in the delivery room, I figured someone had better do it - and the best option was me. Cheers to you super moms out there who have successfully completed labor without the aid of a single Tylenol, in all seriousness, I salute you. But, that just wasn't on my radar and I was begging for the Epidural - which I never got...I like things to be easy, and quick and painless for the most part.  But, the lesson I learned on the day my son was born, was that some times hard work produces the very best reward, and as I cradled him in my arms the very next day I declared - I'd do that again.

But, like I say, I don't like to do hard things.  I don't like to be outside my comfort zone, and I certainly don't like interacting in the lives of strangers.  Though I avoid the hard things, they have been the most rewarding of my life so far.  So much so, I should actually pursue them.  Strangely enough, this hard thing also involved a birth experience - thankfully, not my own.  I had my 2 year old, and my newborn and was stopped for a quick lunch at a nearby McDonalds going from one appointment to the next.  I was in a rush, and encouraging my 2 year old to eat, and in the midst of it all fielding generous compliments about my newborn, I noticed that the woman behind the counter was VERY pregnant.  I spoke to her only briefly, but was later approached by a chatty, gossip filled co-worker to this pregnant lady.  "She's scared." The grey haired Grandma, leaned over, and informed me as she swept the floor around my table. "Oh?" I asked, trying to be polite and conversational, but hoping the woman would hurry on and find another task to complete.  In spite of myself, I asked, "Why is that?" The woman stopped and leaned toward me, and whispered like we were old friends. "She doesn't have anyone to go to the hospital with." The thought was laughable. What pregnant woman in our first world country didn't have SEVERAL eager relatives and friends to attend the birth of her baby. My own delivery room was graced with many family members who I couldn't convince to leave, even by throwing up.  Then it started to sink down deep into my gut, right around nine that night, something in my spirit wouldn't let it go. I returned to the McDonalds in the next few days, and found the woman, and told her, only partially believing she wouldn't laugh at me that I would be happy to go with her if no one else was around. Sure enough, two weeks later I found myself driving this practical stranger to the hospital, helping her up to the labor and delivery floor, walking with her and rubbing her back during contractions, encouraging her through her epidural, and ultimately like many a proud father sitting at her bedside during her c-section waiting for the arrival of her beautiful, fuzzy haired baby boy. See what happens when you accept a challenge? When I asked God why he'd sent me, he told me, "Because she needed someone." It wasn't even about me - but the reward, that was incredible.  

So, here's the challenge, to look at myself in the mirror and like what I see on the inside, and appreciate what I see on the outside. To stop being 203lbs and to start being healthy, to be honest with myself and with other people, and to change not only the way I look at food, but the way I live for Christ. So, does it take a diet to change the way you live? I don't know, but I know it's a step in the right direction.

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