Peeling Oranges - Part 1
When was the last time you peeled an orange? Was it a Valencia, blood, or maybe a navel orange? Or maybe it was a Tangelo. Did you peel it with your teeth, your fingers, or maybe a knife? Nutrition experts advise that we should have two to five servings of fruit per day. That’s interesting, but I really don’t mean to talk about the type of oranges that grow on trees.
Recently I read that there is a new TikTok trend called the “Orange Peel Theory.” It is centered around the idea that small deeds of service indicate a partner’s commitment to their significant other. The article went on to say that these small gestures, like peeling an orange for someone, is “the acknowledgement and the feeling of being taken care of and cherished.”
What a novel concept! As I mulled this over in my mind, I imagined what this would look like if we applied this to others in our lives. As I probed deeper into my thoughts, I wondered, what oranges did Christ peel? Did he peel oranges for me? How about, dying on the cross for me, forgiving my sins, answering my prayers, preparing a home for me in heaven. Wow! Those are awfully big oranges. I cannot peel those oranges. What can I do?
As many of you know, Dorene had recent surgery on her foot. They fused several bones together and borrowed some bone from her hip for grafting. Seems simple enough, not necessarily a big, complicated surgery. It was and is the healing process after the surgery that is problematical. It requires that she have no weight bearing on that foot for 11 weeks. She will have to support her leg on a scooter for that length of time. It looked like there would be a lot of oranges for me to peel during these 11 weeks. “I can handle this,” I said to myself.
The day of surgery came, and it turned out to be the first of many, many oranges that were to be peeled for me. You will find that throughout this article I will not identify my “orange peelers” by name. I can honestly say that they performed these acts of service not for recognition or praise but just to peel an orange for me.
The first peel. My good friend sat with me during surgery. As we discussed what it would be like for me in the next 11 weeks, he challenged me to be a servant to my wife. My thought, “I can do this.” I can cook, clean, do laundry, dispense medicine, and deal with all those obstacles. But then came the real kicker. His challenge included doing all this joyfully with a glad heart. Now for me, THAT is a challenge. As it turned out, even the first part of his challenge would be more than I had bargained for. I looked it up, and it was not in my marriage contract. At least not to this degree.
The first couple of days were not too bad. But then day three arrived, Friday morning 1:00am. I woke up hearing Dorene on the phone. She had called St. Charles ER, wanting to know what to do about how she was feeling. Now I must predicate these next few hours with the fact Dorene does not do well with pain medication. She has been known to pass out on the floor or other places in the house that are far more difficult to help her. Especially if she has a walker between her and what she is sitting on and me trying to help her up. Use your imagination.
I know that many of you think you know my wife exceptionally well. But you have not seen her when she has a reaction to pain medication. This mild-mannered “Clark Kent” woman becomes the antithesis of Wonder Woman. She becomes demanding, loud, and just plan looney. After an ambulance ride and three hours in the hallways of St. Charles ER, we finally got back home with a prescription for new meds.
That day was the first time I would reach out for help. Another big orange was peeled for me that Friday. It was only day 3 of 77. Would I really be able to handle this?
Next Part 2 - The oranges I peeled, and the oranges that were peeled for us.