Thursday, July 03, 2008

lines on the sand

I like drawing lines on the sand. I like daring myself to cross them. I like crossing those lines, then erasing them and drawing more lines further down. As a matter of fact, I have been drawing lines on the sand for quite a while.

In the last couple of years, most of these lines were related to my reactions and behaviours about Jan's progress. It was a simple game. At times it meant taking the cautious medical prognosis to draw a line, and then, I would ask Jan if she felt that line was impassable, if she believed the doctor who had said it was as far as she could go... and then, I was thrilled to see her crossing the line.

It is in my genes to do this, as much as it is in hers. Lines of containment, somehow, only represent an invitation to go and see what's beyond. There is no ill intention, just curiosity. A curious person, that's what I am, and sometimes this makes me an iconoclast. I don't believe just what the "experts" say just because they say they are the experts, and Jan questions this as well. This crossing of the lines over and over again pointed clearly how far she is willing to go and how much I was willing to keep challenging her.

The lines drawn by physicians indicated more the extent of what they know and how afraid they are of the legal implications of their statements about how Jan's brain works and heals, rather than what really is happening. Most of the time, I was disappointed by how close those lines were drawn. Jan would just keep going and recovering functions beyond what everyone expected.

We have crossed many lines. We have dared to believe and somehow we have seen miracles. I think that this is what a miracle is: crossing the lines, going beyond the boundaries, breaking the self-imposed rules about how life and God work. The opposite is accepting to stay inside the "kiddie's play-pen" and believe my own disbeliefs and pretend that that’s all there is to life.

But crossing the lines is by no means an easy thing to do. For me it has been quite challenging and painful. It has meant to let go of my own myths and ideologies and to navigate in the uncharted oceans of faith, believing that when we do all we can, no matter how little or small our effort produces, God will do the rest if he wishes. And the one thing I am sure about God is that he wants good things for us, even if at times, they don’t look good to us.

So, I keep drawing lines in the sand and dare us to keep crossing them.