November is a month of remembrance and gratitude for most Americans as we prepare our hearts for Thanksgiving. But, it holds particularly deep meaning for me...especially this year. Thirty-five years ago November 7th I faced into death and was given life. Thirty-five years ago, despite being given a 30% chance of survival, God carried me through a delicate and grueling nine-hour procedure to wire my severely broken neck back together. And standing beside me through it all was a tall basketball player from Bethel University who has never wavered in all the ups and downs that life has thrown our way.
With a heart full of thanksgiving to God...I dedicate these little thoughts to my hubby.
Two are better than one…if one falls down, his friend can help him up. But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him. If two lie down together, they will keep warm. But how can one keep warm alone? Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not easily broken.
We’ve all heard that sound at some point in our lives...that sickening thump against our window pane that tells us that some sweet bird has erroneously mistaken it for an open flight path. As I sat reading in my living room one morning, I was startled out of my thoughts by just such a thud. Springing out of my chair to see if the poor thing was okay, I discovered a single brown dove lying still in my front garden. As I watched to see if it was breathing, I heard the distinctive sound of a coo coming from somewhere in my yard. But, before I could locate its source, the second dove flew in to investigate the situation, as well.
Over the next hour or so, I stood mesmerized looking out my window at the drama unfolding before me. It touched my heart to watch as the healthy dove ever-so-gently poked his mate here, there and everywhere with his beak, as if to say, "Does it hurt here? What about there?" When he finally seemed satisfied with the results, he quietly nestled down beside her. While the injured dove closed her eyes and tried to regain her bearings, the healthy bird remained alert, forever scanning his surroundings for any signs of trouble.
Several minutes passed and I began to grow concerned. "What if the dove was seriously injured?" As I considered what I might do to intervene, the healthy dove suddenly got up, preened himself and took a little walk-about. This seemed to signal to the other dove that she, too, should try to stand up and move around a bit. The wounded bird did stand for a while, and even tried to take a step or two, but, she soon lay back down for a second time. Her mate then settled back down next to her for a spell. This happened a few more times, with the couple shifting spots around the garden. And then, without further ado, the pair got up for a final time, preened themselves a bit, sauntered about the garden, and then, took flight.
Intrigued by what I had just seen, I decided to do a little research on doves, and what I found blessed me beyond words. I learned that this breed of bird remains together til' death do them part! They stand beside one another, care for one another, share the tasks of everyday life and child-raising together, regardless of what life might throw their way.
Like my turtle dove friend, thirty-five years ago I, too, crashed with a sickening thud into a "window" of my own. But, I didn't walk through that experience alone. God blessed my life then...and continues to bless my life now...with my precious spouse...til death do us part. And for that I am truly thankful!