Thankfulness Magnified

I have this old friend, Sean. I don't mean to imply that Sean is old. Since he's only about 6 months older than me, I don't think that would be a fair thing to say since I am most certainly not old! No, what I mean is that I've known him for, oh, say, 25 years or so. We worked together in high school, had many mutual friends, wreaked havoc on our community at large after work, that sort of thing. After high school, I went to Texas A&M and he went to that burnt orange place in our state's capital. (That would be the University of Texas for you non-Texans. Aggies don't like to talk about it much.) Then I moved back to Houston, got a job, got married, had kids, blah, blah. Sean moved to L.A. and worked in the movie industry, got married, had kids, blah, blah. We didn't keep in close touch, but we caught up from time to time, mostly at high school reunions and such. Over the last couple of years, through the magic of Facebook, we've been able to keep up a bit more. Last summer, when I visited my sister and her family in L.A., we tried to meet up, but his 14-hour workday schedule didn't allow it. No biggie.

Or so I thought until a few weeks ago, when I found out that my old young friend Sean had suffered a massive heart attack, which went unnoticed for approximately two weeks (yeah, he doesn't know how he's still alive, either), and now he sits in a hospital bed in UCLA Medical Center awaiting a heart transplant.

You know how they say your life can change in an instant? That was one of those instants for not only Sean, but for his entire family, and anyone who knows him or cares about him at all. Because even if you're 2000 miles away and haven't seen him in 3 years, it makes you stop and think.

Sean's wife, Judie, is the most amazing woman I've never met. Even with two very young boys, a full-time job, and a husband in long-term ICU care, she has managed to keep me, a total stranger, updated and even entertained. She updates both hers and Sean's Facebook pages nearly every day, but if you contact her personally, she will reply to you personally. Even if she doesn't know you from Eve. Every update is positive, whether it deserves to be or not (thankfully, most of them deserve to be as Sean is doing remarkably well, all things considered).

I have had my weekly bible study class praying for Sean since the moment I heard the news. Recently, I apologized for boring them with updates on someone they've never met and probably never will meet. My teacher' response: "It will never get boring praying for Sean. It is amazing how prayer connects you with someone you don't even know!" So true. Because I've never met Judie, and I feel connected to her and pray for her daily. I can't imagine what she must be going through herself.

Sean's health scare and Judie's updates have given me a lot to praise God for lately. Last weekend, it was the ability to brush my teeth. When was the last time you thanked God for the ability to brush your teeth? If you're like me, probably never. But last weekend, Judie's update included her excitement that Sean had gotten out of bed and gone to the bathroom to brush his own teeth that morning. And I got excited to hear that. Because if you've been stuck in bed for nearly a month, getting your teeth brushed--how? I don't even know. Do they even get brushed? Does someone do it for you? How does that work? I hope I never find out, honestly. But after that amount of time, getting up and doing that small task for yourself, a task you've done for yourself twice a day every day since you were probably 5 or 6, must feel truly wonderful. And so I took a moment to stop and thank God that I've never, ever had to think about that before.

Too small scale for you? While Sean was first laying in his hospital bed, before I knew of his plight, I walked 39 miles with nine friends over two days to fight breast cancer. Sure, I trained for it. But I never gave much thought as to whether or not I'd be able to do it. I knew I'd be tired. I knew I'd be sore. I knew I might even lose a toenail or two (the one is just barely hanging on at the moment!). But I also knew that I'd finish all 39.3 miles. Never crossed my mind that I wouldn't. The week before the walk, Sean probably would have told you he could do it, too (he might not have actually done it, but he could have if he'd wanted to). Today he posted that he's "just hanging out at the hospital trying to get stronger by walking just a little bit more each time out of the room." Have you ever thanked God that you could make it to the end of the hall and back? I have. Now.

Sometimes you don't know what you have to be truly thankful for until it's taken away from you and you have to work to get it back. Or until you have a glimpse into the life of someone who has. I'm thankful for the opportunity to witness it. And, if I'm going to be truly honest here, I'm thankful that I'm merely a witness and not a player. Because I don't know if I'm ready for the kind of strengthening God is putting Sean and his family through. But it's amazing to watch someone else be strengthened in that way. And it's amazing and utterly inspiring to watch them do it with both humor and love.