BROKEN AND BEAUTIFUL

Oh, how beautiful life is if we don't let our worries overtake our mundane pleasures! We had holed up in scenic Lake Geneva for a long weekend, as the kids did not have school yesterday...guess for what? Yup, another Jewish holiday---Rosh Hashana. Well, with our predominantly kosher food nowadays and every other thing on the table being organic, we're as Jewish as the next Rabbi!
It was a great weekend sabbatical with the family...away from the hustle of everyday living and just getting closer as close can be with a family of half a dozen! Timber Ridge Lodge and Water park has become our second home in this tiny lakeside town along the border of Wisconsin and Illinois. It houses the water park which was the kids' hideout for the duration of the mini-vacation. Noe is oh so happy there's a kitchen in the suite (save the fish, he said...for dinner, that is!) and with the growing teen and preteens, we did have to get the 2-bedroom one this time. So there's more than enough room for everyone. It was coincidental that Bruce the Moose (the lodge's mascot) celebrated his 6th year of existence the Saturday we were there...so Joey had lots to occupy his already frenzied mind while mom and dad headed off to nextdoor Grand Geneva's Well Spa for a heavenly massage! Oh, how wonderful it is, indeed, to be alive!
I was tummy-flopped and took a long while explaining in detail to the expert masseuse why he shouldn't be hard on this and that spot and he visibly paled when I told him I had tummy surgery a little more than a couple of months ago.....I guess he was contemplating doing a light "skinning" experiment vs. a Japanese sumo "bone-breaking" maneuver! I told him I'm one tough cookie and as long as he doesn't apply too much pressure on THOSE points I had previously pinpointed, we would be just fine. He started sweating even before the aromatic oil was applied to my shoulders! Noe was much chagrined about the exchange although he was smiling along with his personal masseuse.
Aahhh...as the moments passed, my own unico masajista was playing music on my spine! As I lay there musing about the earlier exchange between my worried masseuse and myself, I couldn't help but remember my own not-so-smug self after my initial encounter with the "little c". I was more than worried...very paranoid and stupid. I was trying to push the ugly recollection away but just couldn't. The moment I had news of my "little c"...I didn't readily accept it. I was brought up never to lose sight of the desired outcome and to contemplate possible undesirable ones to better go around it if it ever arises. I am a stubborn firstborn, after all! I did not question God 'why me' and 'why now'---just as my GI specialist had advised. Instead, I sat there alone inside my closet, following the patterns on our cold travertine floors playing different scenarios in my head and overemphasizing the desired outcome of me rising out of the clutches of this affliction. Still, my heart bled...knowing the possible worst!
It wasn't until a day after my surgery---again, because of innate perfectionism, waking up before dawn to empty my surgical drains and foley catheter, checking my IV pump and meticulously writing the numbers down for my nurse---that I had realized my surgical incision was NOT as straight as I wanted it to be! I waited until my nurse had come and gone and then I did the only thing I haven't done yet at that time...cry! I cried my heart out, raging and talking to God in my mind as if He were right there at the foot of my hospital bed! I told Him if my surgeon can't even make the incision straight...how the heck am I supposed to be assured that he took the right parts out? I can't recall the whole tirade but suffice it to say I never do anything half-heartedly.
I calmed down for lack of any more scathing things to say and as I slowly made my way to the mirror in the adjacent bathroom, I realized all that crying had made my face red and my eyes looked glassy---in other words, I looked so "broken". I spent a long time in the bathroom washing my hair and taking a very carefully choreographed "shower" as my wires and stiffness would allow. When my surgeon made his rounds an hour later, he commented on how refreshed and beautiful I looked. Well, I told him other than my slightly crooked incision, everything was just "rosy"!!! He looked mortified until I told him it's not his fault...I had already talked to the Grand Master because He wasn't holding the line steady as He should have. Maybe he thought I have had too much anesthesia-buzz because he just smiled and nodded his head like an obliging grandpa.
Little did he know I've had a personal awakening the moment he said I looked beautiful...
I had to pray again after that because I just realized, I couldn't have done it better had I mapped the surgery myself. I am not a control freak but I have always been uneasy once things don't go as I had envisioned it to be. Belatedly, I remembered what my GI doctor had reminded me...with God, nothing happens too early nor too late. It is a divinely detailed plan He has for each of us. It was a hard pill for me to swallow. I was never really in control of my life...ever. He had it all to a T and I was just a vessel. At that point, it hit me that, indeed, I was just that---a vessel, and a broken one! His to mold and design as He wanted. And all His to repair if He so wills.
Relishing the organic lavender aroma of the oils I brought myself for my masseuse to use (thank God, he did not raise his eyebrows!!!).....I was smiling at the realization that yes, I may have been broken, but I am also beautiful--- as we all are in His sight. Broken but never alone. As always, the Maker stands by me and He alone will deem the time when it is right for Him to "fix" me and make me whole again. And me...broken as I am, when He finally makes me whole, I would only have greater room for Him to fill my life.
Aahhh...I say, Life is Life and it is, indeed, as beautiful as we make it; without the worries and the doubts. For as it is said in the Book of Life, "for if He is aware of every sparrow that falls to the ground, how much more care does the Son of Man have for his people." Nobody's perfect, I mused, as I inhaled the hint of Lavender in the changing room. In my mind, I was thanking my God that He has given me the opportunity to remember how much He cares. Yes, we are all greatly blessed. Hakuna Matata! We are all broken and beautiful!