Tent – Marilyn R. Gardner

I have come to both love and rely on Robynn Bliss as a regular contributor to this blog. Those of you who read regularly will recognize her – those who have just begun are in for a treat. Enjoy this Guest Post from Robynn Bliss…

I’m about to turn forty-two. The last 3 or 4 weeks I’ve started to hurt in odd places. The top of my spine, bottom of my neck is really sore. My right knee is suddenly aching. The elbow and wrist on my right arm are also giving me grief. How did this happen?

Up until a year ago I was in really good health. In fact last year my annual physical was the day before my 41^st birthday. The doctor, a friend of mine, quizzed me on the usual. I had nothing remarkable to report. I was doing well. She did note that my blood pressure was elevated. That seemed strange to me. She ordered some blood work to check my cholesterol levels among other invisible ills. A few days later the nurse called me to inform me that my cholesterol was also high. What??! I had been perfectly healthy and now my blood pressure was up and so was my cholesterol!?

Since I turned 41 I’ve struggled with various aches and pains. It’s uncanny, really. It’s like I reached my “best before [date]” and now there’s no going back. I’m beginning to spoil. I’m beginning to rot.

I often take comfort in the reality that the houses we live in are really just tents. We are passing through. We are transients. Recently a friend reminded me that these bodies of ours are also tents. These bodies house our real selves. Please don’t misunderstand me. I’m not advocating gnosticism or even a Buddhist sense of detachment. We are wholly us. There is a mysterious connection between our bodies and our souls, between what we eat and how we feel, between head and shoulders, knees and toes and our hearts and sorrows, dreams and hopes. We are wonderfully knit together, an integrated pattern.

However there is a sense that the outer frame is wasting away. The tent rips, the poles rust, the pegs are lost.

In January my mother-in-law, Belva, turned 75. My mother in law has suffered for years from chronic facial pain. This particular disease is nicknamed “The Suicide Disease” because the pain is so intense and there’s no real hope of relief. It’s debilitating and yet she endures. And she never complains. As I write this she is at the doctor’s office. They are trying a new thing. Somehow they’ll insert a pain blocking tool. I don’t understand at all how it’s supposed to work. I pray it does work. She needs relief.

I’m sure Belva felt years ago that she had passed her “best before [date]” too…. And yet though outwardly she’s been wasting away, inwardly she’s been renewed and equipped and graced with joy. She’s made choices that have kept her young. She’s learnt how to play piano in the last ten years, as a way to distract her brain from the pain that threatens to eat her sanity and peace of mind. She’s taken up the computer. She’s actively participated in a women’s bible study for years; finding solace in scripture and the comforts of the character of God. She’s enjoyed photography and has entered several competitions at the local fair. Family celebrations are always out at the farm. Mom takes great delight in decorating the table for each occasion. This year she chose one of her granddaughters to do it with her. Next year she’ll choose another. She’s passing on her love for beauty and space.

She has not allowed her pain to spoil her. Although on many days I’m sure she’s been tempted to give into it, to allow it to consume her, she has resisted those temptations with grace and courage. Her tent has failed her repeatedly but she continues on.

Our baby turned ten on the same day. Bronwynn is on the other end of life. Her tent is new and full of vitality. She has energy and enthusiasm for life and learning, for playing and pretending. Watching her invigorates me and fills me with hope.

I’m trying to resist the downward spiral. I’m trying to ignore the pains of age. I may be past that “best before date” but I’m trying to hope that the best is still before me. I’m not going to give into it. I want to be like my mother in law: brave and full of life, ready to try new things, engage new pursuits.

The tent maybe falling apart but I’m believing by faith that inside I’m being renewed every day.