Short-term pain for long-term gain, I pray

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June 13, 2009

By Dr. Scott Elliott / guest columnist The Meridian Star Sat Jun 13, 2009, 11:08 PM CDT

As a kid, Momma showed me that little hand trick about the church. It went something like this: “Here’s the church, and here’s the steeple. Open the doors, and here’s all the people.” Undoubtedly, your Momma showed you that same little trick, wiggling her fingers to unveil the congregation.

Yeah, Momma related a lot of things to me, growing up. Here’s another one. She always used to say, “Scott, if you’ve got your health, you’ve got everything.”

It only took three trips to the emergency room, and multiple surgeries and hospital stays over the last month or so for me to fully appreciate Momma’s demonstrations about the church and her sagely perspectives on health. (Before I go further, allow me to note that my particular health issues remain minor as compared to those who have endured far more serious illnesses.)

As for “the church,” during this time of some personal trial, I have received dozens of get-well cards from prayer warriors representing various congregations about Lauderdale County, many of whom I don’t even know personally. I’ve also gotten lots of telephone calls, most of which my wife, Claudia, kindly fielded because I really wasn’t up to talking much. Losing 31 pounds in about three weeks just kind of took the starch out of me. But through the grace of God whose hand guided some gifted surgeons, I am now well on the mend.

Such outpouring of support reminded me that “the church” is so much more than brick and mortar. It is a living, spiritual movement – a brotherhood and sisterhood that bridges denominations. I’ve also been reminded of what a blessing it is to reside in the Deep South, where old-time values haven’t completely evaporated. When someone is in need, Bible-belt folk still rally around the individual. My goodness, have I ever witnessed that first-hand!

As for good health, Momma was so right. At my lowest point, I came to know despair. I wondered whether I would ever again return to the normalcy I had so arrogantly taken for granted over the last half-century or so. All of the things on which I had always placed such high value – houses, cars, furniture, clothing, and, yes, position – suddenly didn’t matter. Not a hoot.

Confession being good for the soul, I must characterize myself as one who has not only been cavalier about his health, but, more glaringly, about my God. I’ve spent a lot more time on my knees weeding flower beds through the years than praying, and I’ve expended a lot more energy reading the break on golf greens than the Scriptures.

Shameful as it sounds, religion has to some degree been a cause of convenience for me. Whenever my life’s gotten a little messy, that’s when I’ve selectively turned to God. My modus operandi has been to go to the Lord when I felt that I really needed Him, only to conveniently file Him away, once the storm subsided, kind of like three-year-old tax returns.

Now, having been more than a bit humbled of late, I hope I’ve at last learned that there’s a much higher accountability than the IRS. I hope that I can be a better person in the future than the one I’ve been in the past. Of course, the thing about an earthly future is that we’re not promised one. Therefore, today represents our best opportunity to do something worthy, to walk in a Godly path, loving our neighbors as ourselves. The really neat thing about working at a community college, like I do, is that God provides ready-made and daily opportunities to serve.

You know, complacency is a cancer, one that I pray I can avoid falling victim to again. I feel that I have been given a new opportunity to be a better servant to God’s church, my community, and this college. Good health far transcends the physical. In that respect, I pray that the short-term bodily pain I’ve recently experienced will result in a far more important and holistic gain.

I want to sign off by sincerely thanking all those who have prayed for me and shown me such overwhelming kindness and support in recent weeks. In this age of political correctness, confessionals such as this always have the potential to offend. Yet, if there’s anyone out there who can identify with these fragmented thoughts, and is, therefore, prompted to engage in just a little self-inventory, then I will have achieved my purpose.

Bottom line, don’t take your health or the Master Healer for granted. As Dickens’ Tiny Tim said, “God bless us, every one.”

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