Disabled Dating: Spills and Bruises

Every Friday night, Justin and I try to go out to dinner, and every Saturday morning, we go to breakfast at Einstein's Bagels.  Fridays are about trying to be out and doing something together, usually the cheaper, the better.  Saturday morning is about getting to talk to each other.  These 18 hours are usually some of the best of our week.  Between school and work, the last half of the week doesn't allow much conversation besides the usual pleasantries and "would you stop stealing the covers!?"  This week was no different, so I was thoroughly looking forward to our dates together. 

Now, if you didn't know just how much I love my husband, you might wonder why I keep him around. We were getting ready to leave on our Friday night date, and as I leaned in for a kiss, my purse hit the joystick on Justin's chair.  For a brief moment, it looked like everything was going to remain stationary.  But, no!  After a split second of relief, the chair started moving forward with neither of us knowing how to react, until the chair slammed into the wall and me simultaneously, and continued to fruitlessly spin its wheels while we stared at each other in shock and pain.  Did it occur to us to ever just turn the chair off?  Nope.  The chair probably spun out for 30+ seconds before we formed coherent enough thoughts to reach over and hit the off button.  And notice Justin's toes crunched against the wall.  Oh, and my leg pinned between the wall and a footrest.  Thankfully, no bones were broken and the wall is probably worse off than my leg.  Some people like to start off a date night with a drink or small talk on the way to the restaurant.  For us, it's just not a date if someone isn't bruised by the main course.

This theme carried into our Saturday morning bagel date.  We at our usual Einstein's, partaking of our usual bagel and drinking the same cup of coffee we have every Saturday morning.  When we walk/roll in, they know us by name and practically have our order queued up for us.  Some of the employees even stop by our table to talk about weather, football or the other usual things.  As we're starting in on our bagels and conversation, my husband, being the highly intelligent man he is and not liking to keep a lid on his coffee, leaned over his coffee and simultaneously decided to inhale.  Coffee may smell good, but it can be rather shocking travelling up the nose.  Between the burn and his sensitive startle reflex, Justin didn't have a chance--and neither did my sweater.  As 16 oz of hot coffee flowed across the table, all I could comprehend was Justin's pained expression and the protection of my bagel, because a soggy bagel is a pitiful thing.  Justin and my bagel managed to recover nicely, but my sweater, jeans, and shoe (yes, shoe!) did not meet with such a favorable fate. 

I had a conversation with a classmate Friday morning, in which I was very honest (because I was asked) about a few of the practical difficulties of having a husband in a wheelchair without full time employment.  This classmate did not seem to know what to do with us, and said, "Well, this must be very difficult."  As much as I tried to reassure this person that we are joyful and trust in God's provision even when we do not understand, they said three or four times, "But, this must be difficult for you." You know, it is difficult, but that's not an attitude in which I am allowed to dwell.  This weekend's date experiences were not particularly easy, but they weren't irrecoverable either.  We ended up having a good time and great conversation after both mishaps and were even able to reflect on how these situations have the ability to shape our empathy and active compassion for others if we will allow God to use our circumstances in that way. 

This is just diabled dating.  I may end up with spills and bruises, but God has a way of taking pains and stains, and redeeming them into something more beautiful.