Grace that sacrifices

"But take care that this right of yours does not somehow become a stumbling block to the weak. ... Thus, sinning against your brothers and wounding their conscience when it is weak, you sin against God." 1 Corinthians 8:9,12

Paul was writing this to the Corinthian church addressing and confronting food offered to idols. If you think about it and really let those words sink in, you'll find that the passage above applies to many more facets of life besides just food.

One of the hardest and most overwhelming moments when we discovered Ryan's tumor began growing again two years ago was when regular seizures became an ongoing side effect. Our day to day routine of living life was now plagued with restrictions. Restrictions people of Ryan's age rarely have. Those were a hazy few months and it took so much energy and thought to sort through what was safe, what suddenly wasn't, what had to be eliminated, and what still had some free reign. The question we found ourselves asking most was, what did we have the capacity to supervise? God made each new limitation clear and we slowly sifted through to our new way of living.

This tumor is located in a place that negatively impacts Ryan's reasoning centers. There are days he'll understand something in full depth and the next day his mental slate is wiped clean. There will be days he agrees with the logic of a decision and the next will disagree and argue a point with no ground. Whether it was a change or decision made the day before or months ago, it didn't matter. Thus, this journey has been riddled with confusion and frustration for Ryan and myself. What was easy today is hard tomorrow. I didn't know which battle I would face as I got out of bed each morning, and the same feeling applied and continues to apply for Ryan. It's an exhausting and emotionally draining way to live. On guard. ALL. THE. TIME.

I remember a specific conflict Ryan and I had this summer (and I'm safe to share this). One of Ryan's many limitations stated by his doctor was that he could no longer drink alcohol. This was not the biggest of his sacrifices, but he did enjoy the occasional stout beer with dinner. Ryan lived with this new normal for a year and a half with no problems or struggles. Then one night as I was shutting my eyes to go to sleep, Ryan explained that he looked at all his medication labels and none of them said he could not consume alcohol. I have to admit I felt blindsided by this. I had no idea this was bothering him, especially to the degree using that amount of forethought to look at all his pill bottles and attempt to disprove this limitation that had already been in place for a quite a while. I was shocked! Exhausted, I drug myself out of bed, grabbed all the papers and medication descriptions out of our filing cabinet, and went through each one with Ryan, bullet point by bullet point. Because of various life threatening outcomes, every single one said not to consume alcohol while taking the drug. Not to mention the cocktail of all his medications present too much of a risk.

The day after this argument, we went out to dinner with my family. And what did all the men order with their dinner? A beer. I felt so bad that Ryan and I had finally come to an agreement the night prior that avoiding alcohol was to keep him safe, then the object of his temptation was placed right in front of him. I went into the bathroom and cried. I didn't know how to help Ryan. I wanted to give him as much normalcy as possible without being forced to remove him from the inevitable temptations of each situation, to avoid future arguments, and attempt to give myself a sense of normalcy as well. I felt so helpless! I love him and I didn't want to have to be the bad guy all the time! I later explained to my dad how hard that night was for Ryan and I and asked him for advice on how to handle it. My dad did the most amazing thing. He referred to the verse above and committed never to order or drink a beer in front of Ryan again. I would never have dreamed of asking such a thing of him. Yet, he chose to share the burden with me, vowed to help Ryan in a way I couldn't, and saved me from further strife with my husband in those family settings. I felt respected because our struggle was validated, and we were being fought for!

My dad is a good man. He pointed out certain things we possess, do, or carry out in daily life may not be a stumbling block to us, but we must be conscious of what we parade in front of our struggling brothers and sisters. Ryan's cancer has compromised him in a unique and ongoing way, and putting the object of temptation in front of someone we know is struggling means we're committing a sin against God. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. My dad gave up a simple privilege of his for our well being.

What I took away from this verse and this experience is the importance of showing respect to someone, even when they aren't respecting themselves or you. It is a significant lesson to learn to honor someone's wishes and efforts, even when that means making a sacrifice or two on your end. Its respect flipped on its head. The burden of our struggles is heavy and meant to be shared with one another. We are living and moving parts of the body of Christ. How can we lighten the load for someone we love like my dad did for me and Ryan?

This is just one other facet in which this verse has been applicable in my life. I write this with no ulterior motive other than to simply encourage you to consider thinking and praying about how this can be applied within your own relationships.

Copyright 2016 ->Renee Sunberg