So 12 year-old Claire broke her leg, her fibula more precisely, while roller skating with friends. I guess she cried a bit when she got to the car, but not much. Her friends didn't realize how badly she was hurt. Minutes later Lisa noticed the swelling and took her to an urgent care facility close to our home. Claire wasn't crying a few hours later when I arrived at the orthopedist's office. Except for the swelling on her ankle she appeared completely normal. She was actually laughing at my jokes as we waited to see the doctor. When she heard that her recovery would take 4 to 6 weeks, she chuckled, "Oh! My life is ruined!" When she realized that her injury wouldn't interfere with summer swim team (an activity for which she feels trepidation), she laughed again, saying, "Oh! My life is ruined!"
I was glad that Claire did not succumb to fear when she realized she was hurt. I'm glad she didn't really whine. I'm glad that she was tough enough to endure the pain and even to crack jokes about her injury. I know she's in pain. The doctor prescribed hydrocodone, but as of this writing Claire has been content with Ibuprofen and Tylenol. She doesn't want to be groggy because tonight she's playing games with friends. I know she hurts, but she's setting it aside for something that's important to her. I'm glad Claire can be tough.
In today's culture, tough is underrated. Street thugs are tough, but we bourgeoisie are acclimated to environmental controls 24x7x365. We're overly medicated and overly adjudicated. We might be educated, but we needed a nanny to be adequately administrated. Now that we're subjugated, we want to be liberated.
We're whiners. We listen to whine radio during the day, and each night we watch people complain about this, that, or the other on what we consider reality TV.
Claire will heal just fine, so I propose an ancient remedy to our modern whining problem:
At all times rejoice!
Continually pray!
In everything give thanks!
For this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.
1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 (AB)