"It Would Have Been Enough..."

It's taken three and a half years.

Three and a half years ago, today, I fell and broke my shoulder on my morning walk. A misstep on a rock in the road led to contracting covid in the hospital, intubation, septic shock from a failed surgery, renal failure, and weeks of rehabilitation to learn how to do everything over again. I do not hyperbolize when I say everything.

It's taken three and a half years to be able to do the same walk - the same distance, at the same pace, with the same energy - as I did three and a half years ago. I did it yesterday, and as I sat in my favorite spot on my front porch to cool down and bask in my yard, my eyes fell on my favorite tree in the yard.

I've dubbed these seven days the Week of Glory because of this little tree - the crabapple tree that struts her splendid stuff for only these seven days, before she looks like nearly any other tree in any other yard.

Isn't she glorious?

As I contemplated the fulness of my heart over my sweet little tree yesterday, my ever-free-associating brain drifted to the most tender moments of the new season of The Chosen - season 5.

<Spoiler alert> While I divulge nothing in the plot, I am going to write about the two scenes that pretty much undid me this past month in the theatrical release of season 5 - the 'dayenyu' scenes.

The tradition of 'dayenyu' - Hebrew for "it would have been enough" - didn't start till the 9th century Passover traditions, but to make an artistic and spiritual point, Dallas Jenkins made an inspired directorial decision and included a dayenyu in scenes of two meals with two groups of disciples - the apostles in the Last Supper, and the women disciples.

The scene with the disciples was a macro dayenu - traditional in its poetic retelling of the miracles of Jehovah in freeing Israel from Egypt, providing for them in the desert, and leading them into the promised land.

The scene with the women disciples was a micro dayenyu - an intimate retelling of the personal and private miracles each of the women around the table had experienced since their first encounters with Jesus.

If you didn't care about the spoiler alert and just finished reading that, I'm just saying: bring tissues.

In the dayenyu, each person at the table takes a turn in retelling a great thing God has done - starting with, "If the only thing You had done for Israel [for me] was _______..."

Then everyone at the table says in unison, "It would have been enough."

These are the thoughts I had yesterday morning, three and a half years after a life-threatening journey, breathless from a walk well taken, grateful for the spring sunshine, basking on my porch as I gazed at my happy little tree:

If the only thing You had done for me was to spare my life to give me more time to practice with Dale... it would have been enough.

If the only thing You had done was send angel nurses in the middle of the night, when I awoke with PTSD, unable to move to get comfortable - who moved and massaged my legs, or stroked my hair and talked me back to calmness, and peace, and sleep... it would have been enough.

If the only thing You had done was stay with me every minute of every day, so palpable the nurses could feel it - comment on it - take their breaks with me in my room as respite in their days... it would have been enough.

If the only thing You had done was heal my kidneys, allowing me to go home finished with dialysis... it would have been enough.

If the only thing You had done was make it possible to reverse the ileostomy that saved my life... it would have been enough.

If the only thing You had done was spare my life to spend more time with my parents and have the strength to help them in their last days... it would have been enough.

If the only thing You had done was spare my life to see my son marry happily and well... it would have been enough.

If the only thing You had done was restore my strength to walk outside in the morning sunlight... it would have been enough.

If the only thing You had done was to help eight of our fish survive the winter so they could happily greet me when I come outside... it would have been enough.

If the only thing You had done was create this little tree that gives me such great joy every year... it would have been enough.

If the only thing You had done was create me with a capacity to feel such joy - with a capacity to feel praise and gratitude so great my body can barely contain them - with a capacity to even remotely comprehend what it means to be bound to You because I'm created by You and - thanks to covenants, begotten by You...

If the only thing You had done was give me a life full of joy and sorrow - the sorrow sweetening the joy...

A life that's messy and unpredictable - giving me something to work on ordering and ruling over, and something to learn to ultimately allow You to order and rule over...

A life where the sweetness of work is hidden, making it more precious when it's chosen over convenience or ease...

A life where thanks to You, I can learn from all these experiences to choose You - want You in my life - want to be in Your life above all else...

If the only thing You had done was create me for such a life as this...

It would have been enough.