The Hospital Window

Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man could sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room’s only window.

The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back. The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation.

Every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.

The man in the other bed began to live for those one hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside.

The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm among flowers of every color and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance.

As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room

would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.

One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing. Although the other man couldn’t hear the band he could see it. In his mind’s eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words. Days and weeks passed.

One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away.

As soon as it seemed fitting, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone. Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside.

He strained slowly to turn and look out the window beside the bed.  It faced a blank wall. The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window.

The nurse responded the man was blind and could not even see the wall. She said, “Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you.” 

I have loved this story for many years, and been thinking about my own thankfulness which has been lacking for a while. Being thankful all the time is hard, I would like to think I am thankful most of the time.

However, the last few months I have been down with an injury and not well, as some of you know. I have found it hard to be thankful and have struggled during this time. Feeling sorry for myself and not being able to keep up with all I needed to do. I second-guess and doubt myself, thinking I must have done something wrong. (I did, I fell down) And if the crises goes longer then I think it should, I start wondering where God is. Does He know I hurt? Does he care? Does He still love me?

Often, when things happen in our lives we feel like God is punishing us for some reason. I’m sure Satan wants us to feel that way, keeping us defeated and depressed.

When we’re down it’s had to be thankful and trust God’s who see’s the Big picture. And if I feel sorry for myself I won’t keep my eyes focus on God. Forgetting to trust Him for His plan in my life. Even when I don’t understand, can I still be thankful. Have you ever felt like that?

Over the last few weeks I have been reminded, that God’s promises are true and faithful. I can trust Him for His outcome. And with faith be thankful.

Faith never knows where it is being lead, but it knows the one who leads!

Thank you for sharing your time with me, and stopping by.  I am Thankful for each one of you.  

Lovingly, Karan 

Discussion Question: Is it hard to be thankful?