My second night home

Jon helping with some tasks in the house, and Justin rockin' out with the weedeater.










Last night was my second night at home. What had been mostly sleepless nights are becoming more restful thanks to better pain management and the security of my own bed. I continue to rise quite a few times in the night, but Rebekah's servant's heart is just as keen in the night as in the day, and she is cheerful and willing helping me put on the brace, helping me remember which medications to take and stuffing more pillows behind me to create a more comfortable position.

I got to take Elizabeth to school yesterday and one of the moms there asked "Are you Rebekah Goodman's husband?" (My backbrace and turtle's gait must have given me away.) After I responded in the affirmative, she told me that she had met Rebekah at the neighborhood swimming pool earlier in the summer and continued to tell me what a warm, caring, kind and thoughtful wife I have. Not knowing what to say, I simply told her with a smile that "I guess I shouldn't have to break my back to figure that out."

I realize I have only been out of the hospital two days now, and that I did break my back and ribs and bruised my lung. Being a very task oriented and accomplishment driven individual, the past few days have been very difficult for me. I have felt very helpless, not even being able to dress myself, and hopeless, feeling dismayed at the complete loss of energy after only moments of standing or moving. For better or worse, I have always been a relatively capable individual who rarely needed to ask for help. My current inabilities and the associated feelings of worthlessness have been nearly as painful as the broken vertebrae and ribs.

Perhaps one of the lessons God has for me in all of this is the humility to ask for - or even just accept - help from others. Since I got out of the hospital my mother and brothers have been at the house helping with some of the menial (and long overdue) maintenance projects that need to be done. Many of you have brought meals, made visits to the hospital or our home, offered use of chairs, vehicles, time, or just been there with kind words. These have ovewhelmed me, and I thank each of you.



I think the other lesson I am learning is that our worth is not measured simply by what we can do or accomplish. Having always been capable, that's always been a convenient (and flattering)measurement of myself. But hearing at my daughter's school from some random soccer-mom why my wife was so remarkable to her, coupled with the way she and so many of you have served me in these last days, has reminded me that at my funeral, my eulogy won't include anything about the condition of my lawn. It's about how we can serve others, and about how we can serve one another in the short time that we have.

Sometime today, take a minute to show someone how much you love them by serving them in a tangible way. And when someone offers to serve you in something you could just as easily do for yourself, allow them. It's a challenge I'm making to myself, but one on which you're welcome to join me if you feel so called.