Four weeks ago I had surgery to repair the damage left from a torn ligament in my right hand. The good news is that the surgery appears to be a success. The challenge now comes in two stages. Next week I will need to have two k-wires removed. Then the real work begins, building mobility and strength back into a hand that has been immobilised for five weeks.
The first surgery and upcoming one reminds me of the moments just before giving way to anesthesia and well as the first few moments after. In my experience, there is a moment where one feels absolutely and totally alone. It is as if there is no one else. No connection to those who love you. No connection to Divinity or a higher power. The only word that fits my experience in those moments is abandonment.
In these moments, one’s intellect tries to remind you that you know better. You have the memories and trust in others with their love and friendship. You have the promises of sacred scripture and experience with Divinity. For me, all this fades to black and the moment arrives when it is just you. In that moment, one is alone.
Life whispers, reminding me that in the last moment I could sense what I could not feel. I was alone, abandoned, and yet I knew there was more.
As I contemplate the surgery coming next week, I find myself reflecting on what is feels like to be totally alone. I know I am not the first. Many, David included, have been in this moment. His words remind me of the recurring plea; “Don’t throw your lambs to the wolves; after all we’ve been through, don’t forget us.” (Psalm 74.19)
I know there is more, more to the story and to the moment of abandonment. In advance, my thanks to those reminding me of love, hope, and possibilities. You gift me with a sense that there is more. For always being present, thank-you God. Because one feels abandoned, it does not follow that one is.
