Rev. Ted Huffman

Journeys of Recovery

Our day came to a close yesterday with a lovely drive up the Columbia Gorge toward Portland, OR. We skirted the city on Interstate 205 just as the sun was going down and drove up I-5 in the dark to Olympia, pulling into our usual parking place next to our son’s home just before 11 p.m. It was a little later than usual for us, but we are practiced with setting up our camper in the dark and we were soon comfortably settled into our bed for a good night’s sleep. Today promises more wonderful adventures as we begin our last week of vacation.

Through the generosity of our Church Board, we were able to use some residual vacation from last year this year meaning that we have had more vacation than usual. It has been very good for us. We are deeply aware of how much we needed to heal and recover from all of the events of 2011. Grief is a powerful experience and when multiple losses occur in a short span of time people survive, but it takes more time than one might expect to get back to full strength and energy. This may be especially true for ministers, who absorb more than the usual amount of grief from the people we serve and the circumstances of our work.

Whatever the reason, we have a sense of being in a time of healing and recovery. We fell our passion for the ministry returning, our creativity for problem solving strengthening and our capacity for caring for those we serve increasing. The recovery is significant enough that others in our family can recognize it and comment on it from time to time. They say that we seem to have more energy, and that we “look better” than a year ago. There are some visible physical changes. I have lost enough weight for it to be visible. And, I know that I feel better.

Of course our family members have shared the loss. They, too, have been in a season of recovery from grief. But there are other traumas that have been a part of their journeys. Yesterday we had a delightful visit with Susan’s sister and her husband. About six weeks ago, Carol had a serious accident with her bicycle. We probably won’t ever know exactly what happened, but the effects can be enumerated. She fractured her leg high up, close to her hip, smashed her wrist enough that it required a complex reconstruction with a plate and screws, lacerated her forehead and broke five bones in her face, including smashing her nose. She experienced traumatic brain injury, though no permanent damage was done to her brain. There were other injuries as well. After an emergency helicopter transfer to a Level I Trauma Center, she spent some time in an Intensive Care Unit and additional time in a regular hospital room before being discharged to return home for her recovery. She has slowly graduated from an walker to a cane and now is able to get about without much assistance from others.

We have been following her accident and recovery to this point from a distance and relying on the descriptions of other family members. So it was wonderfully reassuring to see her face-to-face. She looks very good to our eyes and her personality continues to shine brightly. But she is still very frail. It takes a long time for her to walk a short distance. She is very cautious with each step. She tires easily. It is going to be many months before she returns to full strength and can resume all of her everyday activities.

Life presents all of us with events and circumstances from which we need to recover. Most of those things come at least in part as a surprise. Carol had no way to know that she would be involved in an accident before it occurred. We cannot predict the events of our lives. What we do know is that the bodies we inhabit do not last forever. In addition to the trauma of accidents, we are vulnerable to diseases, many of which we do not fully understand. There are all kinds of events that can cause psychological stress and discomfort. The normal process of aging means that we have to learn with decreased capacities and abilities.

What is more interesting to me than all of the things that can go wrong, is the capacity of our human bodies and spirits for genuine recovery. We go through life-alerting events and we heal. Human bodies have incredible powers of recovery and restoration. With a little help from doctors and nurses we are capable of surviving injuries and illnesses that just a few decades ago would have been fatal. We are not immortal. Each of us will one day come to the end of our lives. But along the way we are each given opportunities to experience the power of healing and recovery.

What I have discovered from my own experiences and from the good fortune of being allowed to walk alongside others as they journey towards recovery is that we never return to “normal” after a major life-changing event. You don’t get “over” the death of a loved one. You don’t go back to the way things were before an accident or major illness. What happens, instead, is that you discover a new normal. You survive. You learn to live with grief. You become capable of living fully in the presence of pain. And, often, with the recovery comes maturity and clarity. Reminders of our mortality help us reassess our priorities and give us the opportunity to make new decisions about how we will live our lives.

Survivors often become more compassionate and caring. They acquire great abilities to assist others on the road to recovery. Health care providers have long known of the power of survivors groups in the process of healing.

The Christian church is a community of survivors. We take as our founding story the passion of Jesus Christ. Sacrifice and loss are at the core of our story. We assume that each generation can benefit from the experiences of previous generations. We begin not by denying the power and presence of death, but by affirming that death is not the end. Healing and recovery are possible in the darkest moments of this life. And our lives are a preparation for something greater that we are not yet able to even imagine. Each injury and each illness is an opportunity to glimpse that we are part of an even greater whole and that our role in this universe is one that is rich with purpose and meaning.

But we do not fully understand. With faith we journey toward greater understanding knowing that full understanding is not a part of this life. As Paul wrote to the Corinthians, “For now I see as in a mirror dimly, but then I will see face-to-face. Now I know in part, but then I will know fully even as I have been fully known.” The part that we do know is truly wonderful. It is enough to keep us searching for full knowledge.

That, like healing, takes time.

Copyright © 2012 by Ted Huffman. I wrote this. If you want to copy it, please ask for permission. There is a contact me button at the bottom of this page. If you want to share my blog a friend, please direct your friend to my web site.