About Me

Hey there! I'm a twenty-three year old Jesus follower, and this blog is to record all of the goings-on in my life within the next months. I recently broke both of my legs, and feel God leading me to tell my story - a story of redemption and grace, of hope and pain, of excitment and fear. May you be deeply blessed as you read. Shalom!

Monday, January 31, 2011

Kids.

All the girls in my house slept in this morning (my dad had to get up super-early...), we headed to iglesia, and then my sister N-Dizzle and I got to play rummy all afternoon with my grandma.  Glorious.

One of my favorite things about church this am was getting to talk to people afterward.  Sometimes I think that peoples perception of church is "you go, you listen, you leave".  End of story.  But, in my opinion, that is very incomplete.  The community that is found in a local body of Christ, (another way of saying "church"), is tremendous - something that I have come to greatly rely upon.  That's not to say that it's some sort of club that you belong to so you can get to know other people, or that my family and I never leave church right after the worship service.  It's not a club, and sometimes we leave without talking to more than a handful of people, but there are other times when I stay after the service and just talk to people I don't know, or people I haven't seen in a long time.  It brings so much joy.

Today I had the honor of conversing with many people whose heads barely came up to the handles on my wheelchair.  A little (like, maybe 4-year-old?) girl in this adorable pink mini-Chinese dress was flittering around the lobby like a butterfly when she almost bumped into me.  She turned to me and said in a super-soft voice, "What happened?"  How I explain it to most little kids is that "I hurt my leg, and I have to wear this black thing like a giant band-aid so that it feels better."  Little little kids totally get it.  They are also the ones that gape the most.  It's hysterical.  Like, mouths open and everything.  Another little guy that had seen me before (4?) came up to check in, and he said, "I see your toes!  Do they feel better?"

My heart just melted.  I was cracking up because kid after kid came up to talk to me.  Maybe it's because I'm getting fat, and I look like Santa Claus.  I think it's because I'm permanently on their level and, as such, they feel more comfortable talking to me.  After they get over the fact that I'm in a giant stroller that doesn't have any cool cup-holders. 

Yesterday, I took down all of the cards that people have sent me over the last three months.  I had them all hanging up on the dining room wall, (with blue painter's tape, of course) and they have been such an encouragement to me.  Dozens and dozens of people letting me know that they were thinking of me, and more importantly, praying for me.  I had to take a picture so that I could remember why it's important to send people cards.  One of my absolute favorites came to me in the hospital:





It's from a three-year old.   
(My other favorite is also from a three-year-old. 
Green one, top right, with the puffy balls.)


Noah came from HJ.  HJ came with her mom and dad to visit me in the hospital when I had first fallen.  Apparently, she had made it in Sunday school.  It made the perfect get-well card, didn't it?  The top of it says, "Noah's family and the animals were safe in the boat."  I can vividly remember getting it from her, and thinking about how fitting that line was.  "Noah's family and the animals were safe in the boat."  

Noah stepped out in obedience to God, even though everyone around him thought he was a loon.  I really admire that about Noah.  Because I'm a chicken.  The first neighbor that would come over to question what I was doing with a crap-ton of wood, and I'd be like, "Okay God, I'm done now.  I can't build this thing."  Don't even lie.  You'd give up soon after.  Like, when you found out that you'd have to quit your job, and devote your week to building a really big boat that all the animals in the world would come to.  It's almost laughable.  The story of Noah is one that (I think?) is pretty well-known, and pretty well-made-fun-of.  I mean, I'm not laughing at God.  I respect him, and I think that his plans for our lives are the ones where we find the most joy, and the most clarity.  But sometimes when God asks me to do something crazy, I am tempted to say, "Yeah right.  Oh wait.  Really?  You weren't kidding?  Oh.  Okay."

I'm a CHICKEN, I tell you!

But.  When we are obedient, God truly does great things.  I think that if God can redeem an entire planet through one family & a gigantic boat, he can redeem a broken leg sitch.  Sitch is short for situation, in case you didn't know.  And, in this sitch, it has been easy to be ashamed or discouraged by many things.  Phillipians 1:20 has something to say about this:

"I eagerly expect and hope that I will in no way be ashamed, but will have sufficient courage so that now as always Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death."

Cuh-razy cool that I found this passage tonight.  "But I will have sufficient courage so that now, as always, Christ will be exalted in my body..."  I pray earnestly that Christ is exalted through me - I have seen his faithfulness in so many ways.  Ways that I have talked and talked and talked about, and I can't seem to stop.  I'm so thankful that he uses even the craziest of things to exalt himself, and that he uses cotton-balled covered pictures to point me to himself.

Friday, January 28, 2011

Focus.




Or, if you are more scientifically minded:






That is your daily dose of sunshine.

For those of you in the midwest, you are probably missing the sun as much as I am tonight.  I haven't seen it in so long, and the Chicago news has started this "Countdown to Spring".  I just want to be like, "Stop.  Please just stop.  51 days away is ridiculously far, and you're just making me more depressed."  Spring is 51 days away.  I guess that's not too long.  I'm trying so hard to live in the moment - winter is wonderful, and I love the snow.  I'm just missing the sun right now.  (I found out tonight from a Nurse Practitioner babe that you can use a blue garden light to simulate sunlight, and that it produces seratonin!  Home Depot, here I come!)

Just in case you don't have a blue light in your house, I'm sending a few rays your way.

Last night I fell asleep prematurely: didn't brush my teef, didn't pee, didn't take my glasses off, didn't get my pillows right (I sleep with two fluffy ones - I only had one flat one under me), and I didn't take my meds/vitamins.  Let me tell you.  I woke up like a grumpy bear.  I felt like I had gotten hit by a truck.  Or a hunter?  And...I'm not sure how exactly that would feel (thankfully), but I'm sure you would feel really sore the next day.  I couldn't get my internet to work, and I couldn't find my cell phone...Then, I thought I was going to be walking on crutches at my PT appointment, but I think I must have heard my PT helper wrong - not until next week. 

All that to say that my day was off to a weird start.  Isn't it amazing?  How so many little things can distract you from what your day could be like?  I mean, really.  Who cares how many pillows I like to sleep on?  Do I need my cell phone and internet to survive?  No.  Why do I let those little things make or break my day?  I am so easily distracted by those things.  I'm working on focus.

You know who has focus?  Angels.  Seriously.  Tonight during my small group time, we were talking about angels, and how people in our culture today have an easier time believing in angels than they do Jesus.  Some people revere angels a little too much, but I acquired an appreciation for them this evening.

They do the bidding of God with no questions asked.

I mean, the respect is not really mine to gain, but I did gain it for angels tonight.  I think I am just way to pessimistic about spiritual things.  I'm learning that more and more about myself.  Angels are not something that I typically think a lot about, but they are a good example for me to follow.  They are humble, but they know their place.  They are strong, yet they are willing to serve humanity (in all their stupidity).  They are focused, and yet so many different things go on in their lives all the time.  It's so bizarre for me to think about!

Angels are something that God created before he created humans, and because God cares about said humans, angels do too.

   “He will command his angels concerning you to guard you carefully;
   they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot
   against a stone."
                    Psalm 91: 11 & 12  (also quoted in Luke 4:10 & 11)


This may sound a little ironic coming from the chick that broke both legs, but it's SO true!!  I can't tell you how many times I have seen God's careful protection in my life.  I can't tell you how many times I have seen his provision and his grace.  How many times I have been able to count on him when I could count on no other.  God is so attentive.  To every little detail.  To details smaller than humans will ever see, or be able to even conceive.  I just think that is so amazing.

I think that the greatest way that the angels are an example to humans is that they are in awe of God.  This is why they are obedient & faithful to him, and to him alone.  They see his wonder, and they see how good he is.  

In both Isaiah 6:3 & Revelation 4:8 (Revelation is quoting Isaiah) it says,
"Day and night they never stop saying:
  ‘Holy, holy, holy
   is the Lord God Almighty,’
   who was, and is, and is to come."

That.  Is all I need to focus on.  Can you imagine the sound?  Of millions of wonderful voices gathered around the throne.  Holy, holy, holy are you, Lord God.  I stand in awe of your wondrous love, and I thank you that I can bask in the warmth of your presence.  I can't wait to stand before your throne; help me to focus on you alone.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Shaving.

So apparently the last few days have been all about progress.  It started with standing (even if only briefly), then continued on with exercising and stretching of muscles, and now...?

I shaved my legs. 

I know, I know, you thought this day would never come (ahem, family).  Well, it has.

When each family member separately mentioned how hairy my legs were last week, I just sort of chuckled because I just took it as teasing, but when my grandma was grossed out, I knew it was time to forge ahead.  Can I just say how much I have enjoyed not having to shave my legs for three months?  I was kind of sad to have to finally have to give in to cultural and societal expectations, friends.  Some call it hygiene; I call it forced expectations on women.

I went through a phase a few years ago where I wouldn't shave for weeks, in quiet rebellion...well, actually it was kind of loud.  But I refused to put the blade to my leg because I felt pressure to do it.  I mean, who invented shaving in the first place?!  It's pretty ridiculous when you think about it, "Durrr...I'm gonna take a sharp razor blade and SCRAPE my lower extremities so that the hair gets CHOPPED off, and my legs look smooooooth.  Here, feel it."  Give me a break.

And I'm not being dramatic here, people.  This is serious!  I'm not kidding!  And!  My legs were FREEZING tonight!  Ice cold!  No joke.  The hair kept them insulated, and I just hacked it all off.

But, alas, my perspective on shaving changed today.  Rather than viewing it as a stupid, time-wasting routine & an unfair expectation that is placed on women in today's society, I saw it as rebirth.  As my dad's hair buzzer cut through each one of those suckers, I was actually glad to say goodbye.  My skin started peeking through, and I saw freckles that I haven't seen in months!  It was rather exciting.  I'll post pictures soon, so you can see my beastly legs. 

I have no idea how to tie this in with a passage.  No clue whatsoever.  There is this holy fear inside of me that doesn't dare tie "shaving rebirth" to the rebirth that Jesus talks about in John 3, but part of me really thinks it could work.  I mean, it's not the same thing, and you know that, so I'm gonna go for it.  Jesus is sitting (or standing) (I always imagined it on a rooftop), talking to a teacher-of-the-law-Pharisee, named Nicodemus.  Nick, we'll call him, acknowledges that Jesus is from God in the very beginning of the conversation, and they talk back and forth about rebirth.  I love it that the Bible allows you to eavesdrop.

In verse four, my buddy Nick says, "How can anyone be born who has already been born and grown up? You can't re-enter your mother's womb and be born again. What are you saying with this 'born-from-above' talk?"

Jesus said, "You're not listening. Let me say it again. Unless a person submits to this original creation—the 'wind-hovering-over-the-water' creation, the invisible moving the visible, a baptism into a new life—it's not possible to enter God's kingdom. When you look at a baby, it's just that: a body you can look at and touch. But the person who takes shape within is formed by something you can't see and touch—the Spirit—and becomes a living spirit."

 (Hey!  That's what I talked about yesterday!  I didn't plan this, guys.  I'm not that organized...in case you were wondering...)

 Jesus goes on..."So don't be so surprised when I tell you that you have to be 'born from above'—out of this world, so to speak. You know well enough how the wind blows this way and that. You hear it rustling through the trees, but you have no idea where it comes from or where it's headed next. That's the way it is with everyone 'born from above' by the wind of God, the Spirit of God."

I would like to encourage you to take five to seven minutes and go to the following link to read the whole conversation:  http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=john%203&version=MSG

Just highlight, copy, and paste into that magical little white rectangle. 

Rebirth is something that we submit to, and it is found only in Jesus.  When we see the invisible moving the visible, trusting that the wind is wind even though we can't see it - trusting Jesus even though we can't see him or touch him.  That's when we are reborn, our lives are made new.  I pray that God would increase the amount of trust that you have in him, whether it's absolutely nothing, or whether you would be willing to hop in a wheelbarrow and tight-rope across the Grand Canyon.

It's 2:30 am, and I've spent the last two hours watching Regis & Kelly bloopers.  I looked at my clock and I was like, "Oh wow, it's 12:30 already?  Whoa."  Then I did a double take.  "TWO THIRTY!?"  Yikes.  Time for bed, Fred.

Sleep well, dear ones!

Monday, January 24, 2011

Body.




I strongly dislike video recordings, and I strongly dislike the sound of my own voice, but I'm biting the bullet so you can get in on the action.  The sacrifices I make. 

: )

I spent a good chunk of the morning relaxing & exercising, and then I spent the afternoon reading.  Normally I watch the news as well, but all they were talking about this afternoon was Cutler, the football game yesterday, and how Oprah found her long-lost half sister.  No news for the rest of week - all this football talk makes me want to hide out in a mall somewhere.  Judge Judy will have to suffice. 

One of the things I got to thinking about today as I was watching my feet bounce back and forth while I was doing my exercises was how the body functions.  It's such an amazing machine, isn't it?  I mean, think about it.  My leg bones were broken, and right away my body sent blood to clot the fracture, which gave way to fibroblasts to producing collagen, which led to chondroblasts,  Then, my body used the chondroblasts to create a hard shell called a bone callus.  After the bone callus is finished forming, osteoclasts and osteoblasts are going to spend months remodeling the bone by replacing the bone callus with harder compact bone.  Isn't that AMAZING?!? 

(Info taken from:
http://health.howstuffworks.com/human-body/systems/musculoskeletal/heal-broken-bones1.htm
Go there if you want to read exactly how bones heal.  It's cool stuff.)

The human body is one amazing thing.  James (the guy I talked about yesterday) talks about how the human body is dead without the spirit.  (I'm kind of freaked out by spiritual things, I'm not gonna lie.  The word "spirit" has taken some getting used to in the last several years as a Christian because it makes me wriggle.  I think that most people would say that every human being has some sort of "soul" or "spirit", something that connects us to a higher being, and to one another.  Right?    

It seemed to be a little out there for me, but once I actually started to experience the change in my life because I was doing things like praying, and trying to still my heart so that I could hear the voice of this Christ through things like reading the Bible and trying to remember what it said, I started to realize that there was so much more to me than just me.  So much more to my life than just living it for myself.  The Bible talks about how we become one with Christ when we commit our lives to him - he infiltrates every nook and cranny.  Our heart, our mind, our soul.  I started to learn about what it meant to worship him "in spirit and in truth".)

James says, "As the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without deeds is dead." (2:26)

I think about how my body would be dead without my spirit - devoid of life, cold, and hard.  This verse isn't saying that in order to please God, or in order to get to heaven you have to do good deeds.  I think what it's saying is that you have to put your actions where your mouth is.  To say that I will live my life for Jesus is one thing, but to actually do it is another.  I always try to ask myself, whenever I feel stale & cold, "What am I doing to put my money where my mouth is?  What am I doing to truly embody the kind of life Jesus lived, and to actually do the things he told me to do in his stories & in his conversations?"  Because to embody the life of Jesus means to completely let go of self, to surrender all for his sake. 

It is an ongoing process that takes time - a lifetime actually.  

Kind of like the mending of bones.  Except that even though it feels like it's going to take a lifetime for my bones to mend, it will hopefully only take another handful of months.  So I guess it's not exactly the same, but it's a process.  Sort of like becoming like Jesus.  : )

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Do.

"My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, because human anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires." -James 1:19 & 20

This verse today in my life?  Epic, epic fail.

I just deleted a really petty list of reasons why I was so cranky today.  I have no excuses.  My new goal this week: to be incredibly quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry.  Slow to become irritated, and more apt to be less focused on myself.

James goes on to say: "Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says. Anyone who listens to the word but does not do what it says is like someone who looks at his face in a mirror and, after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like. But whoever looks intently into the perfect law that gives freedom, and continues in it—not forgetting what they have heard, but doing it—they will be blessed in what they do." (22-25)

Another pitfall in my life?  Doing what I know I need to do.  Seriously, I can't remember what my face looks like when I try to picture it in my head.  I am this person that James is talking about.  What would help is to look more intently into the eyes of Jesus, and listen to him more as I'm reading his word. 

I'm so thankful for worship, and the way that as I bring my crud before the Father, I can lay it all down at his feet.  That he comes and takes all of my stuff, and makes me clean.  And it's just amazing how he knows what I need to hear.  I've been singing this song all week, and we sang it at church this morning.  It's by a guy named Charlie Hall...

Oh Christ, be the center of our lives.
Be the place we fix our eyes,
Be the center of our lives.

You're the center of the universe,
everything was made in You, Jesus
Breath of every living thing, everyone was made for You

You hold everything together, You hold everything together...

Oh Christ, be the center of our lives!
Be the place we fix our eyes,
Be the center of our lives.

We lift our eyes to heaven,
And we wrap our lives around Your life
We lift our eyes to heaven, to You."

I distinctly remember singing this in the hospital the night after my surgery, and it is still my continued prayer for this very week.  Nearly three months in, and I'm still praying it.

Christ, please be the center of our lives.  Please be the place we fix our eyes; be the center of our lives.  And not just by our words, but by the way that we live our lives.

Blanket.

It is freezing cold.  My toes have been in cozy socks, and they are still frozen.  Along with my nose.  My toes and my nose.  I know how to rhyme!  But seriously, they are the only things that get cold on my body, and I can't get them warm.

So I grabbed an extra blanket for tonight.  It was given to me by my grandma quite a few years ago.  It's sort of a throw, I guess you might say.  It is cream and forest green with sheep sewn around the edges, and a Psalm stitched into the center.  Psalm 23 to be exact.

Huddled underneath my warm layers this evening, I started to peruse Netflix.  I found myself watching "David" (with Richard Gere) tonight, mostly out of curiosity.  It may sound like a ridiculous movie, but it wasn't that bad.  Richard Gere is one of my top-ten favorite male actors (as I'm sure he is for many), but I was interested in the fact that he starred in such a movie because he is a practicing Buddhist.  I think he was in "David" before he stepped into Buddhism.  Or he is just a really good actor.

Anyway, the movie's beginning includes David's encounter with Goliath, the gigantic Philistine man.  He starts to say Psalm 23 out loud, and it occurred to me that I was laying underneath exactly what this man was saying.  It was weird because the very words that came across David's lips thousands of years ago are stitched into my blanket.  Isn't that so bizarre?

Here it is, Psalm 23:

The LORD is my shepherd, I lack nothing.
 He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,
 he refreshes my soul.
He guides me along the right paths
   for his name’s sake.
Even though I walk
   through the darkest valley,
I will fear no evil,
   for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
   they comfort me.

 You prepare a table before me
   in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil;
   my cup overflows.
Surely your goodness and love will follow me
   all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the LORD
   forever.

(Emphasis is mine)

I have so much more to understand about this chapter in the Psalms.  David wrote this one; he was a shepherd himself.  I've always wanted to try shepherding, ever since I saw a family do it on National Geographic.  It's no easy task mind you, and, out of frustration, I would probably abandon my sheep.  Seriously.  They're stupid, and they smell.  But the thing I admire about shepherds is their ability to have compassion on their flock, and to take care of them in spite of themselves.

I have only been a Christ-follower for about ten years.  At so many points I have looked up at my Shepherd after traipsing off, and getting lost, and I have thought, "Is now the point at which you are going to abandon me?  Is it now that I no longer will receive your love?  Will I never see your rod and staff again?  Because I feel stupid, rank with disobedience & selfishness." 

Time and time again Jesus has shown his faithfulness to me.  Sometimes people will refer to him as the "Good Shepherd".  It's not just the title of a ridiculous movie with a white, pasty, blond-haired Jesus; it's the truth.  This was one of the first Psalms that I ever heard, and I still have yet to comprehend parts of it.  Part of me is afraid of this Psalm.  And yet, part of me revels in the fact that the Creator of the Universe treasures me as one of many sheep in his flock.  It feels so wonderful to be blanketed, literally, in these words.  To know that as I fall asleep tonight, Jesus sings this song over me: as my Lover, my King, my Friend, and my Savior.  My Shepherd.

To be blanketed in his words is to live a full, content life.  Warmed by his love.

Friday, January 21, 2011

Joy.

There is nothing like reaching a goal.  I'm not talking about the kind of goal that will be made at a certain football game coming up between two teams that shall remain nameless.

I am laughing at myself as I type because I keep thinking about how simplistic my goals have been in recent weeks.  I can't help but reach them.  Especially when I have a claw grabber.

First leg: "Wiggle toes", "Wipe own butt", "Stay awake all day" , "Sleep on side".  Lofty.

Then, I moved on to things like: "Stay in wheelchair all day", "Wheel in wheelchair without hitting cabinets and walls", "Finish puzzle", "Reach phone in living room", "Sleep on sides" , "Get juice out of fridge without dropping it".  Crazy, I know.

Then I started to really shoot for the moon: "Make own meals" , "Stand on foot", "Climb stairs", "Feed dogs" , "Brush teeth at sink", "Shave regularly".  Who KNOWS what's next?!?

My goals have been so small, but with each wave of new ideas and abilities, I am ready to move on to my next set of goals.  It's a confidence booster.  I can't help but eventually accomplish something like, "Wipe own butt".  And then, once I do, I feel like I'm making progress.  (Although I must say, I may have backslid in my "Don't fall out of wheelchair again" goal.)

I think about how easy it could be one day, when I am standing and walking again, to say, "I did it!" or to spout off some nonsense about how you should "persevere under trial" because I've been there, done that.  Psshhh.  No.  No no no.  I'm trying so hard to be careful about how I talk about what is going on in my life.  To not speak in such a way that I sound like I have everything figured out.  I so don't.  I mean, if I had to stare down the barrel of another trial, I'd be shakin' in my boots.  No joke.  I'm wearing boots right now.  I stumbled across this verse tonight:

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.”  James 1: 2&3 

I'm sure some people have heard this verse a million bajillion times.  Or maybe you haven't heard it at all.  What I can tell you is that it is not as easy as 1 2 3 (ha ha, get it?)  Some thing popped out at me this evening: I'm not just to consider trials a joy, but pure joy.

pure joy.

Dictionary.com doesn't do the word "joy" justice, in my opinion, so I'm not even going to post it.  It ties the word to "feeling", like the feeling that you may feel this weekend while watching the football game mentioned above.  Not joy.  I was completely elated today when I found out that one of my friends is expecting a baby.  Sheer excitement, even tears.  But, I think that joy is more of a posture or a way of being.  Something that we have to stop and consider amidst really dark and trying times.

Because when we do face trials in life, we are to consider it pure joy; they bring perseverance. Perseverance is one of those qualities that we all want, but really don't like working towards.  It hurts, doesn't it?  It costs a lot.  It's taxing, and exhausting.  And doesn't the timing always seem off?  Those pesky trials don't always leave when we bring in the Welcome mat, when we try to turn them away.  But it is by God's own grace that we can find ourselves blanketed in the faith that He Himself gives us.

It is this faith that I have begged and begged for.  And it is this faith that I stumble upon daily.  Choosing joy comes more and more naturally because I find myself fixated on the fact that God is so good to me; he is with me the whole way.

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Foothold.

 Today was my first official day as a chick who is allowed to STAND!  Whoot whoot!  And it was so bright too! What a gloriously sunny day it was.

I think that the progression was kind of funny because my physical therapist looked at me, and was like, "Are you nervous?"  Yup.  The worst part was when I had to tell her I was 5'9'' and a half.  "Oh wow. You're really tall."  Click click click to the top of the bar...

Anyway.  I'm past my tall insecurities. I've resigned myself to the fact that, if I ever do get married, my husband will probably be shorter than me.  Breakin' and bendin' rules.  It's what I do.  Except not really.  I'm kind of a chicken at heart.  It took me a long time to even be able to wear high heels.  Like, little stubby ones.

Anyway.  Again.  My knee was what was super-wobbly today, not my feet.  It caught me by surprise.  I've been doing the exercises that my occupational & physical therapists in the hospital told me to do, but my muscles are all still super-sleepy.  I say, "TIME TO WAKE UP!!!"

Man, I'm so excited to stand again, and walk with crutches.  I took a three-inch step today, and I think that it is progress.  A slow progression is ahead of me, but it's coming along.  I crawled up the stairs tonight into my sister's room, and we laid on the floor for a little while.  I love birds so much, and she has to memorize all these different birds for Science Olympiad, so I got to read some of her super-cool books.  It's things like that that I find myself missing.  My parents do an amazing job keeping me included in what they do...I am not missing out on much.  I just miss the little things; I look forward to the little things.

In the Old Testament, there was a teacher of the law named Ezra.  Teachers of the law were held to such high standards according to the Law of Moses, and the Lord was with Ezra because of his obedience (and God's grace).  You can see more of this story in chapters 6 & 7.  Ezra devoted himself to not only studying God's Word, but observing it, practicing it, and teaching it.  In the 9th chapter (v. 8) of the book (which I need to study more), Ezra says this:

“But now, for a brief moment, the Lord our God has been gracious in leaving us a remnant and giving us a firm place in his sanctuary, and so our God gives light to our eyes and a little relief in our bondage."

So much light has been given to my eyes, can I just say?  And to be in God's sanctuary!?  What a glorious place to be!  It's my favorite place in the world. 

In the footnotes, another word for "place" is "foothold".   When you rock climb, one of the things that you want to do is look at where you are going to place your hands and feet.  When you are actually climbing, the places where you put your hands and feet are called handholds and footholds.  It's what enables you to scale the wall.

How appropriate that we are given a firm foothold in the Lord's sanctuary.

Thank you, Abba for your light!  For your grace!  And for the way that you so wonderfully provide strong places for us to stand, grow, rest; be.  Your remnants are far better than anything this world can ever offer.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Falling.

The orange hue outside my door/window seems a lot brighter tonight.  Probably because it's so cloudy outside, and the light rays have no where to run.  Or hide.  I've been sitting in the dark for a while (well, minus my computer) because everyone in my house went to bed early tonight.  It was a long, but very great day.  Physical therapy went well, I hung out at Starbucks for a few hours, and read for the rest of the evening with Bowgirl.  Super-fun.  I'm super-tired.

Anyway, as I lay here tonight, snuggled into my sweet-smelling covers, the song, "Hungry" just jumped into my little head.  It is a song that I learned when I first became a Christian, and it's one I haven't heard in a while.  By Kathryn Scott, apparently.  I bet she goes by Kathy.  Thanks, Kathy!  Here are the lyrics:

Hungry I come to You
For I know You satisfy
I am empty but I know
Your love does not run dry

So I wait for You
So I wait for You

I'm falling on my knees
Offering all of me
Jesus You're all
This heart is living for

Broken I run to You
For Your arms are open wide
I am weary but I know Your touch
Restores my life

So I wait for You
So I wait for You

I’m falling on my knees
Offering all of me
Jesus You’re all
This heart is living for

I'm so glad that this song came into my head tonight.  I needed to hear it, and I need to sing it.  And.  I need to practice it.  I am so hungry for Jesus, all the time.  I find that it's getting easier and easier to fill that hunger with other things that look so tasty, but they never truly satisfy me.  Only Jesus can do that.  With one gentle touch, one kiss of life on the lips of my heart. 

Falling is not always a bad thing, you know.  Falling on the knees is something that I think should be regularly practiced in our lives.  Humility and surrender lead to freedom and restoration.  This is the song that I will fall asleep to tonight, praying that I am able to practice it in my life.  Even if the distance from my knees to the floor seems miles and miles away.

Monday, January 17, 2011

Flexible.

I am so ready for bed.  I climbed up and down a flight of stairs three times today.  This is a first for me in about three months.  I look like a little kid, bumping down each stair on my butt.  The first time was to take a bath (yuck!), the second time to watch a movie, and the third time to swivel in a swively chair for a while.  It was fun, but I felt sick afterward. 

I have found it difficult to find contentment and patience in the last days.  Plans have changed quite a few times, and I'll think I get to go somewhere, and then it will start snowing like the dickens or my parents are over-tired from driving the twins around all day.  I totally get that, but it's hard to remain flexible.  And.  I haven't been taking my Vitamin D - big mistake.  If you don't take Vitamin D, you should.  It's good for you.  It keeps me sane.  Not taking it makes me insane.

I learned from my friend, the future Mrs. Klaers, that you can listen to the Bible online.  Isn't that crazy!?  This mysterious guy, with a deep, slightly English-sounding voice reads every word to you.  BibleGateway has a little speaker button I've never noticed, and I feel like I've discovered a secret.  This morning I was listening to John 2, my goal being to finish the book of John soon.  Jesus had to flexible!!!  Did you know that?!  I mean, I've read this passage a million times, and I realized that Jesus was flexible in John 2.

He is at a wedding with his mom, and all of his disciples.  The disciples have never been in my imagination when I think about the story, which I find funny.  He's only recently gathered all of his disciples together in the chapter before, and they were all invited to the wedding.  Mary was somehow closely related to the wedding party (I can't remember how), and so she becomes very concerned for the integrity of the family throwing the wedding shindig.  She comes to Jesus, (I've always imagined her out of breath), and says to him, 

"They have no more wine."

Jesus calmly responds by saying respectfully,
"Woman,why do you involve me?  My hour has not yet come."  
 
His mother said to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.”

I'm sure all of the disciples watched as Jesus instructed the servants to fill six stone water jars with water, and it is this water that is turned into the best wine of the days-long celebration.  I don't know how I would have responded if I were Jesus.  I think it's interesting that his mother makes a statement instead of asking him a question (was this a habit of hers to keep from putting Jesus in a hard place?), that Jesus feels his hour hasn't yet come (what was his hour supposed to be?), and that Mary goes ahead and tells the servants to do whatever Jesus tells them, even though she knows he is displeased (was it because everyone was already drunk?)

Even JESUS had to be flexible!  His hour had not yet come, and yet he was called into a place where he had to make a decision about how to respond, still having to honor both his Heavenly Father, and his mother.  Jesus was perfect, but I'm sure he had to think very carefully about his actions.  The disciples believed in him after that point; it was the first of many signs that he was the Messiah. 

I just think that it is funny that Jesus is called to flexibility at this point in his story: he put his mother before himself, and was patient when he had to do something that he probably didn't really want to do.  I just admire him because he always practices what he preaches, something that I can stand to work on.

Long.

Brooke Fraser is seriously such an amazing song-writer.  I'm givin' that girl some major props this evening because she is such an amazing servant of Jesus.  What an encouragement she has been to me in the last years.  I can't wait to sing with her in heaven.  After we've sung for ten-thousand years straight, in a great ocean of people, I'm going to pick up some instrument I've never seen, and she & I are going to sing songs, that we've both never heard, together.  While riding on dinosaurs.  I'm completely serious about the dinosaur part too.  Laugh at me all you want, but they'll be there.  Just you wait.

Last night as I was laying in bed, trying to fall asleep, I kept thinking about how morning was going to come.  I thought about it for a grand total of, like, 30 seconds because I was out like a light.  It was a traumatic, frustrating day.  : )  Anyway.  It's a beautiful thing, isn't it?  The morning.  Heaven is going to be like a thousand beautiful mornings all wrapped up into one.  The kind of morning where you wake up in your warm cocoon, the sun shining (or not, if you like it better that way.  My friends from Vietnam like it better when it's cloudy because it rains there so much), with the promise of a new day is ahead of you. 

Brooke wrote a song called the C.S. Lewis Song.  Clive Staples Lewis is one of my heroes, and, last night after I had written about pain, I heard this song on Pandora: 

If I find in myself desires nothing in this world can satisfy,
I can only conclude that I was not made for here.
If the flesh that I fight is at best only light and momentary,
then of course I'll feel nude when to where I'm destined I'm compared

Speak to me in the light of the dawn
Mercy comes with the morning
I will sigh and with all creation groan as I wait for hope to come for me

Am I lost or just less found?
On the straight or on the roundabout of the wrong way?
Is this a soul that stirs in me, is it breaking free, wanting to come alive?
'Cos my comfort would prefer for me to be numb
And avoid the impending birth of who I was born to become

For we, we are not long here
Our time is but a breath, so we better breathe it
And I, I was made to live, I was to love, I was made to know you
Hope is coming for me
Hope, He's coming

If you have time, you can listen to it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GHpuTGGRCbY

I always love it when themes from my week seem to align like the stars.  When I find myself in that holy place, and God clearly speaks to me.  If you've never experienced this, I pray that one day you do.  I'm not a crazy person, I promise.  I pray that one day you will just know that God is talking to you through a song, or through the sermon, or through a dancing little girl twirling freely in the lobby, full of joy...completely unashamed.  When the stars align and you know that God sees you.  And is crazy about you.

That happened to me this morning as I was listening to the sermon; the themes of my week collided.  The pastor was talking about how Christ-followers are aliens in this world.  Christians are weird, aren't they?  I mean, my eyes get huge sometimes.  Especially when I'm excited.  And, I've always sort of clapped a little off beat, but there's nothing like hearing it from the leader of a church.  "You're an alien."  What he was really talking about is that nothing in this world can satisfy me like Jesus.  Pain is real, life can be long & hard, frustrating even, but there is so much hope found in heaven.  It is there that I need to focus on.

God actually talks about this in Scripture.  He talks about how people who commit to following Jesus don't belong to the world.  It's temporary; our home is in heaven.  This is where the C.S. Lewis Song comes in: "We are not long here, our time is but a breath."  Make it count.

I used to be really afraid to think about heaven because I have this tendency to be really skeptical and doubtful.  And just, well, afraid.  I saw this picture a couple of days ago, and I could not stop laughing.  It's Jesus riding on a long-neck.  Holding an alligator.  : )  This picture is making fun of me.  Here's why:  Well, first of all.  I believe in Creationism, and that's pretty much a punch to my world's science-minded gut right there.  To be quite honest, I'm still figuring out what exactly I believe.  But I can't tell you how much I love science.  But then, I was talking about how I wanted to ride on dinosaurs in heaven in my small group.  Two hours later I saw this on Facebook.  Now I know I sound like a crazy person, but my logic is this: if God created dinosaurs in the beginning of time, then they were in the garden. You with me?  And if dinosaurs were in the garden, they would have let people ride on them.  If they were in the garden, why wouldn't they be in heaven?  And why wouldn't they let people ride them there too?  It is possible that I'm a little too big for my britches.  I have to admit, if I do actually stand before a Brontosaurus, I'm gonna pee my pants before I do anything else.

It's hard not to wonder.  And, I mean, it's really laughable for some people.  If you've ever seen The Invention of Lying, you get a clearer idea of how some perceive heaven.  An invention for hope for those close to death, a carrot to dangle in front of a face or two, a threat from religious leaders (if not heaven, then hell, right?)  I have caught myself thinking, "Does it really exist, God?  Really?"  I mean, what if it really was a figment of an imagination?  Is it literal or figurative?  And will it hurt my mom's feelings?  Like, that our home isn't really home?  And then, to get there you have to die.  In the words of Scooby-Doo...Ruh-roh.
 
But here's the deal: God only speaks the truth.  I don't think he would lie to us about heaven.  Scripture is truth because it is the very breath of God.  Heaven transcends time.  It transcends logic.  But, it is a reality.  All joking aside, (there may not be dinos...I'll be okay if there aren't), heaven is a reality in Scripture.  It isn't just some fantasy, or a figment of imagination  It. Is. Home.  A warm, sweet-smelling, beautiful, open-spaced home.  I think about how often I think about home when I'm away from it, especially when I miss my family or I'm going through a hard time or I'm excited to celebrate someone's birthday or hear their concert.  And, maybe for you, home has a negative connotation; for that, I'm sorry.  Heaven is a joyful home, friends.  It is on the forefront of my mind; my home.  The best part for me is going to be seeing Jesus for the first time.  Can you imagine?  I'm running straight into his strong arms.

If I find in myself desires nothing in this world can satisfy,
I can only conclude that I was not made for here.

We are not long here.

Sunday, January 16, 2011

Painful.

I totally fell out of my wheelchair tonight.

I was reaching forward, and lost my balance, and landed right on my feet.  Luckily, the impact was on my right foot, and not my left.  I sat there, by the backdoor of my home for a few seconds, slumped in my chair.  I was upset with myself because I did it, and because I swore; it hurt really bad.  I wish I had been able to say something like, "Oh Nuggets!" but I instead panicked and acted foolishly.

My little sister, Nat, was freaked out a little too.  My parents were gone, and she was so helpful.  She kept trying to get the chair off of me, but I just sat there looking out the glass door.  She sat down by me, and my leg started to throb.  I started to wonder if I had re-broken it.  Then I started to cry a little.  In one moment it went from a few tears of pain to a complete meltdown.  I was filled with so much self-pity and shame; I couldn't get up.  I was stuck.  On the cold tile.  I felt so sad, and I just couldn't stop sobbing. 

I mean, I never fall out of my wheelchair.  I have fallen forward before, but I've never fallen out.  Except for the first night I was here.  It was the same sister that watched me do it the first time, poor thing.  But that was the beginning, and I'm in the middle now.  I'm not supposed to be falling out of my chair, I'm supposed to be getting out of it.  It caught me off guard.

I feel pain.  Why am I caught off guard by that?  

After I fell, (and had calmed down) I was able to scoot into our family room, and pull myself up onto our couch.  Nat and I had been watching "The Passion of the Christ", which is kind of weird and maybe a little random.  I saw it when I was, like, in eighth grade, and I haven't seen it since then.  My sister piped up tonight was like, "Wanna watch The Passion with me?"  I was like, "Umm...sure?"  So we, like, did.

If you've never seen it, I totally get it.  Some think it's too religious.  It's really graphic, and some people don't like movies that pull on heartstrings & stir up emotions.  The theology bothers other too, and the director bothers even more, I'm sure.  I get it.  It's a movie, and not everything is the way that things went down.  But I pulled something away from it tonight.

Jesus felt pain.  He felt a lot of pain.

You're thinking, "Duh, Catie.  There's blood everywhere, and gravel penetrating his wounds every time he falls or is pushed over.  Wounds from flogging and scraping."  I know.  But last time I watched the movie it was too painful to watch.  It's what I saw this evening.  I think that a lot of times we can play down Jesus' death.  When we're singing, or when we read about it.  I don't think I always fully grasp how much pain he felt, emotionally and physically in the hours leading up to and of his death.  How gruesome it was, and how messy.  How graphic, and R-rated it was.  It's something that I appreciated about The Passion - they didn't play it down.  Or maybe they did...I guess it's a matter of how far you will let the facts and your imagination take you.  I don't always want to go there.

In the last months, whenever I would see something that looked like it hurt, my legs would tingle.  They were like little pain receptors, so I would just close my eyes.  It hasn't been happening recently, but tonight they tingled a lot.  I always close my eyes at scary parts of movies, but as I was watching this movie tonight, I made an effort to watch even the most gruesome parts.

It struck me that Jesus kept going throughout the whole experience.  At no point can you ever see him think, "Wow.  Maybe I should call down the angels to help me, this really hurts."  They were poised & ready, I'll bet.  Outraged at what was happening.  Tears of pain rolling down their faces.  You never see him call down curses on the people spitting on him, humiliating him.  He was focused, determined to get to the end, knowing it would be his death.  Knowing he was taking on every sin that was ever committed, and would ever be committed.  That is so unfathomable to me, something I totally can't comprehend.  Or maybe it's too painful to think about.

My pain is nothing compared to Jesus' pain, and I'm in no way comparing myself to him.  The pain tonight was short-lived for me.  I've already forgotten what it felt like.  The reason I even share this story is because I am thankful.  I'm thankful that, in a very very very small way, I'm able to relate to Jesus.  I'm thankful that I can look at him and watch how he lived his life, solely focused on pleasing his Father.  With strength and humility, justice and mercy, patience and passion.  Not stuck, but willing.  Not caught off guard, but knowing every gory detail ahead of time.  And doing it anyway.  No self-pity.  No self-focus.  No self-reliance.  Pure, unadulterated love driving him onward.

I'm thankful that he thought of me as it all happened.  As he carried his cross up the hill, tripping and scraping his knees in the rocks.  With each lash, with each evil glare, with each hit of the hammer, he thought of me.  He thought of us.

Then, he takes it even further.  There will be pain, he speaks hope.

The night before he was crucified Jesus said this to his disciples:  "You will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy."  One of those disciples wrote his story down.  Well, several did, but John shares this in the 16th chapter of his book, in the 20th verse. 

There will be pain, but it turns to joy!  Morning will come.  Life is not over.  And the best part of it all?  He is still alive.  Breathing joy into my nostrils amidst the joyful moments, and the painful ones.

Friday, January 14, 2011

Resolve.

Avascular Necrosis of the Talus.  That's the sweet name for my "condition" that I couldn't remember last night.  AVN for short, in case you need a nickname.  You can even read about it here, if you'd like:  <http://www.mdmercy.com/footandankle/conditions/ankle_arthritis/avascular.html>

I don't know where the acronym "AVN" comes from...wouldn't it be ANT?  ANT would be WAY cooler!  But then everyone would get the giggles, I suppose, because ANT spells ant.

"Why yes, fine sir, I have a condition called ANT.  Uhh....why....no.  It has nothing to do with ants.  It has to do with your Talus bone.  What's a Talus bone?  Well, I don't really know.  I've never seen one before, but I hear it's shaped like a turtle.  Why don't they call the condition TURTLE?  Well.  Because there is no A, V, or, N in "turtle".  What?  Yes, I know.  There is no V in ant either."

That's the conversation I just had with a hot guy in the grocery story two months from now.  Apparently, we live in the late eighteenth century, which is why I called him "fine sir".  (I've been watching too many BBC movies...)  He thinks I'm weird because I'm talking about having ants in my feet.  Let's stick with AVN, shall we?

You know, sometimes when I think of all the things I have forgotten, I wonder where my memory went.  Right?  You know what I'm talking about.  Either you have lost yours as well, or you know me well enough to know that I no longer possess one.  I mean, I remember the weirdest stuff, but I can never remember the things I need to remember.  Or what I'm supposed to remember.  Names.  Dates.  Times.  Birthdays.  Family members.  What my faces looks like.  What my legs look like without hair.  To squirt Shout on my mustard stains.  You know.  Normal stuff that most people can remember.

I can, however, remember random things like people I met in the most random of places, such as the bathroom of the Brewer's Stadium.  I might even remember your favorite ice cream flavor, or when I last went poop.  Weird stuff.  Not helpful for everyday living.  Except for the pooping bit, that's important for daily living, in my opinion.  But, God has gifted everyone differently, and I've been doing puzzles.  So, maybe I'll have a better memory?  Ha ha.  What do puzzles have to do with memory.  I don't know.  But Sudoku is supposed to keep you from getting Alzheimer's.  I'm not very good at Sudoku, (but I'm working on it, thanks to a dear college friend that send me a GIGANTIC book of it.  Ms. Hberger is a wonderful friend.)

Tonight, (at my AMAZING Small Group with Springbrook Church young adults!) I got to thinking about how I can never remember what I need to remember when I need to remember it.  I kept thinking of verses that could have been an encouragement to others, but I couldn't quite remember all of the words, or I couldn't quite remember where it was found.  It is incredibly frustrating!  So.  I've come up with my New Year's Resolution.  Are you ready for it?

I hereby declare my on this day of January 13th, 2011, (not 2010) that I will:

(deep inhale)

memorize25versesfromtheBibleandbeabletosaythemcompletelyandwithareference.

(GASP)

You know I'll forget it tomorrow.  And, at first it was 100 verses.  Yeah.  Right.  It's not really a resolution.  It's more of a long-term goal.  I mean, the word "resolution" has no meaning to anyone in our society.  It might have a certain stigma attached to it, one that brings either laughter or sheer shuddering, but it doesn't mean anything.  The only other resolution I've heard this year is "To meet Tim Tebow", and we can all guess who that one's from.

But this is where you come in.  You need to help me remember to do this.  I'm serious!  I'm talking to YOU!  All of you!  I need some major help here!  Friend me on Facebook if we aren't already friends, and remind me tomorrow of my New Year's resolution.  And, if you know Tim Tebow, you could hook me up there too.  For..er..my friend.

One of the reasons that I want to memorize more verses is because I know God wants me to!  I've always had this aversion to it, which is quite sad.  Growing up, I never really thought it was "the cool thing to do", or important enough, even though it was what I needed to do.  To me, saying something over and over again (that included words I didn't always understand) was really quite boring.  And hard!  And the prizes offered in Pioneer Clubs weren't always enough to tempt me to try and cram three sentences in my brain.  I was perfectly okay with being the only one who didn't know the "verse of the week".  I could handle the shorter sentences.  Man.  I was lazy.

But now.  God has changed my heart in so many ways.  Even at my church, there is a church-wide effort to memorize more Scripture.  It came at a perfect time, too.  And, as for my nuclear-familial attempt at memorizing verses?  It's going fairly well!  We're still doing it.  The bonus is that I get to include those verses in my resolution!  Muah ha ha!  My evil plan is working!

1 Peter 3:15.5-16 says:
"Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect, keeping a clear conscience, so that those who speak maliciously against your good behavior in Christ may be ashamed of their slander."

I looked up the Message's version of the verse, mostly because I never use the word "slander", and here is what it says (same verse, different word-usage/interpretation):

"Be ready to speak up and tell anyone who asks why you're living the way you are, and always with the utmost courtesy. Keep a clear conscience before God so that when people throw mud at you, none of it will stick. They'll end up realizing that they're the ones who need a bath."

I'm starting with this verse.  I'm going with the Message's version, even though I'll probably study both.  Wanna memorize it with me?  Seriously.  If you do, go to this website called "Facebook.com" and search for a girl named "Catie Wollard" (two L's, not two O's).  Then click on the "Send Message" button, and say "I want to memorize 1 Peter 3:15.5-16 with you!"  Then, I will proceed to follow-up with you, and make sure it's going well.  And then, you could even "Add a Friend" me, and we can be friends.  Then, I will stalk you for an hour, and comment on all of your pictures.

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Stand.

Today was such a sunny day.  Snow covered all of the trees, and the view was marvelous on my way up to Wisconsin this morning.  I was so thankful to be able to look out the window and see everything passing by me.  It felt good to see all of the Milwaukee bungalows lined up in neat rows as I drove up to the hospital.  And away from it.  To go to The Golden Gyro.  This sight was also quite exciting. As was the golden gyro and baklava I inhaled.  In moderation, of course, because now I can't run it off.  : )  It was a quick stop, and then we were back on the road.  The amazing part?  The entire trip still took seven hours.  My parents are amazing.  Sacrificial love displayed through sacrificed time, money, and energy (we all fell asleep when we got home.  I fell asleep in the car.)

So!  The second cast has officially been removed.  AHHH!!  My legs are SO hairy, it's ridiculous.  My favorite thing today was when my castlady said, "You know, most people freak out about how hairy their legs look, and you're freaking out about how gangly it is."  I was laughing. A lot.  I told you it would look like a baseball bat, and it totally DOES!

My doctor said that I still won't be able to put any weight on my left leg because I have a condition (the name of which I can't remember), where I have lost blood circulation to my Talus Bone.  My doctor had also predicted that this would happen, so I had mentally prepared myself for knowing this, but I was surprised to see it on the x-ray.  You could see where the bone was a lighter color because the blood supply had diminished.  In the next few weeks I'll be starting a bone stimulator, where they attach electrodes to your foot, and send electrical impulses to your bone to, apparently, stimulate bone growth.  Isn't that crazy?!

Know what I say?  Next leg of the journey, baby!

Know what the x-ray technician said?  To stand up on special x-ray stairs so they could take an x-ray.  I thought that part was funny too.  I haven't stood up for two and half months, and I was trying to figure out how to stand on a piece of glass embedded in the top of the stairs so they could x-ray my foot.  And I'm not supposed to be standing on a leg.  I didn't know I wasn't supposed to until after my escapade.  I gave it a shot, with some assistance from my padre, and ended up having to simulate standing while sitting in a chair.  It was also funny.

My right leg is another story!  I can put all of my weight on it which means that I will be standing up soon!  Whoo hoooo!  I can't stop singing "The Stand" by Hillsong.  I put the verses in before the chorus, in case you've never heard it.

You stood before creation.
Eternity in your hand.
You spoke the earth into motion,
My soul now to stand.

You stood before my failure,
Carried the cross for my shame.
My sin weighed upon your shoulders,
My soul now to stand.

So what can I say?
What can I do?
But offer this heart, oh God,
Completely to you.

So I'll walk upon salvation,
Your Spirit alive in me.
This life to declare your promise,
My soul now to stand.

I'll stand with arms high and heart abandoned,
In awe of the one who made it all.
I'll stand my soul Lord to you surrendered,
All I am is yours.


The "I'll stand" part really means so much when you really can stand up, and this is the first thing I'm going to do when I can stand up: sing this song.  Seriously.  I am.  I'm so thankful that in my mind I can stand before my Father, with my arms high & my heart abandoned to him.  I truly am in awe of all that he has done, and I look forward to all he is going to continue to do.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Castgirl.

Tomorrow will officially be my last day as Catie the Castgirl.  I'm getting my left cast off in the morning!  Yippee!  Goodbye candy cane, hello funky looking leg.  I'm trying to mentally prepare myself because when my right cast came off my leg was super-skinny, and very gangly looking.  Imagine what this one will be like.  Ha ha!  I promise I'll take pictures.  I won't post them for a while, so as not to freak you out.

Hopefully the doctor will not have to put another cast on, although this is a possibility.  I sometimes wonder because my left leg is still a little sore from time to time.  Probably because I wiggle it around too much.

I'm very excited, and very nervous at the same time.  I can't tell you how many times a day I bump my cast on things.  I'm such a klutz, and I recall my right leg feeling quite vulnerable a few weeks ago without its warm, snuggly home.  And, yes, my legs have feelings.  I haven't named them yet, but I'm considering it.  All I know is that they have grown accustomed to their new little houses over the last couple of months, and it's hard for them to part with their abodes.

It's amazing to me how quickly my legs are healing.  The reality of walking again is slowly becoming more and more real.  It's overwhelming actually.  I find myself feeling nervous just about standing again, let alone the chain of events that will fall into place after that.   My friend reminded me tonight of something I said the other day.  She asked me how to use my family's coffee maker, and I told her that I didn't know how.  I hadn't seen the buttons used before I fell, and from my vantage point, I'm not really able to see them at all.  I was no help to her whatsoever.  Luckily, it didn't explode.  Crisis averted.

I'm looking forward to seeing things from a new perspective once again.  It has been refreshing to see things from a child's perspective in the grocery store.  And down the toy aisle.  To see things from my dogs' perspective.  To see things from the perspective of someone who is little, just in general.  And to see things from the perspective of someone who is in a wheelchair 24-7.

Being physically lowered down has been such a great experience for me: it's humbling, for sure.  It has taught me humility and reliance on others.  I can't reach many of the cupboards in our house, and I rely greatly on those willing to lend a hand.  Literally.  I'm at the mercy of those around me.  This has been a challenging position to be, for sure, but one that I am thankful for.  Not all people who are in wheelchairs are this dependent on others, and I am certainly not saying that they are "beneath" anyone else.  Just to clarify.  I have great admiration for the many people I have met who are unable to walk, and I look up to them for their strength & ability to persevere.

Humility has been a topic of great discussion for me in this blog, and it is something that has been on the forefront of my mind for quite some time.  This verse is one that I want to memorize in the next few weeks:

"For by the grace given me I say to every one of you:

Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the faith God has distributed to each of you."  - Romans 12:3

I always want to come back to this place.  Thinking of myself with sober judgment, in accordance with the faith God has given me.   Balancing.

Being unable to walk, and in a wheelchair, has not being humiliating, but it has taught me to be humble.  Even when I'm able to stand and walk again, I want to remember what it was like to be physically lowered down, below other people.  This is the essence of what Jesus did in his lifetime; he was physically placed below others multiple times.  Namely, on the cross.  For me, this aspect of my journey has been such a blessing.  Among so many others.

Seeing things from a new perspective.

Nerve.

My nerves are raw this evening.

Here's why: 750 - 4 = 746.  I am missing four pieces of a puzzle I have worked really hard on for the last few days.  The ridiculousness of this is apparent to me, but infuriating at the same time.  My fury is somewhat fueled by the fact that I didn't take my medication today.  I thought would be okay without it, but it turns out I was super-wrong.  I'm back on it, but I'm really grumpy, and I don't really want to write this evening.  I need to go pray & listen to my Father for a while before bed.  I hope that you find time to do the same. 

Pray for my family, they deserve major kudos for putting up with me tonight.  ; )

With love.
Me.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Ernie.

Tonight my parents and I watched The Express, a movie about Ernie Davis.  Ernie was the first African-American to receive the Heisman Trophy, a very prestigious award given to college football players.  I don't really follow football all that well, especially not college football.  I'm both a Packers and a Bears fan, which some claim is impossible.  (Reconciliation is my aim, people.  Don't judge.  It is possible.)  I'm more of a Chreaster kind of a football fan: the Superbowl & the Packers vs. Bears games are about all I make an effort toward, kind of how some people do church.  Christmas and Easter are the big days.

Anyway, I was kind of disappointed when it came in the mail.  I was like, "Did Netflix make a mistake?  Who ordered this stupid football movie?"  Take one guess. 

And you might guess my dad, being that the male to female ratio in our house is 1 to 7, including the dogs.  But you'd guess wrong!  It was totally my mom!  Crazy woman!  I don't know what she was thinking.  I mean, there's only so many football movies I can handle: Remember the Titans, Radio, The Blindside, Little Giants, and Waterboy have fulfilled my lifetime football movie quota.

But, I watched The Express anyway.  I kept thinking, "This is like a remake of Remember the Titans, minus my beloved Denzel Washington.  And, in the middle of the movie, they aren't happy to be together."  There is not really a buddy-buddy attitude coming from any of the boys on that team, and I felt uncomfortable.

Even though it was a fictional movie, I was so encouraged by Ernie's perseverance.  He was knocked down, and mistreated so many times in that movie, and he kept moving forward  He wasn't a pushover though, nor a doormat.  He had a quiet strength that was neat to watch.  He worked hard, and he was humble.  After being humiliated over and over again (and his teammates not DOING anything about it), he continued to push through and do his best.  It was a really cool movie.

When his team was at the Cotton Bowl, Texas was their opponent.  The guys on Texas' team were cheating left and right, as were the ref's.  I was so enraged!  Like, seriously, I haven't felt that angry in a long time.  And this is a movie we're talking about.  It was like watching the definition of "injustice" on a screen.  They ended up winning the Bowl, thank goodness, I would have quit watching if they had lost because it would have been too painful.  It was after this game that he won the award.

The president at the time, (JFK) said this to him when he won:

"Seldom has an athlete been more deserving of such a tribute. Your high standards of performance on the field and off the field, reflect the finest qualities of competition, sportsmanship and citizenship. The nation has bestowed upon you its highest awards for your athletic achievements. It's a privilege for me to address you tonight as an outstanding American, and as a worthy example of our youth. I salute you."

 Maybe it was for some political gain, and maybe JFK didn't even know who Ernie even was.  But I think he meant what he said, and I think he did truly value Ernie's character.  What a high honor to be addressed by the president in that way.

Two years later Ernie died of Lukemia.  I cried like a baby.  He never got to play a professional game, even though he was drafted by the Redskins & traded to the Browns.  He was 23.

It got me thinking tonight about what God might say to me when my life comes to an end.  Not that I want him to say "Why Catie, you reflected the finest qualities of competition and citizenship...you were an outstanding American ..."  I certainly do not want a trophy.  But I do so long to hear him say, "Well done, my good and faithful servant!"  I want my Heavenly Father to be proud of me, and glad for the perseverance I had while I was alive.  I most long for him to say that I loved others well, I lived by grace, and that I applied the things I knew I needed to.

If I were to encounter the amount of injustice Ernie had, I don't know that I could have done it with as much forgiveness and grace as he did.  I fail often, and I do not encounter anywhere near the things he did.  When it comes down to it, having to persevere in the face of many great things, I have to remember to fix my focus on Jesus, and remember that my life is solely for him.  For his gain, his glory, and his purposes.

Saturday, January 8, 2011

Sunrise.

This morning I woke up at 4:47a to see my dear friend out the door.  And by see her out the door, I mean sit up in bed while I watch her walk out.  Sleeping in the dining room has it perks... I tossed and turned for a little while, and then my dad was out the door at 5:00a.  He went to church for, what I like to call, male bonding time, otherwise known as a Men's Breakfast.  I know that it is so important for guys to have time alone with other guys, but I feel like I'm missing out!  These breakfasts always sound like so much fun!  I mean, I have to admit, I'm a little jealous!  I vote for a Women's Breakfast at 6:30a sometime.  Who's in?!  Dmode?  Heaver?  Bowman, I know you're awake.  Who are my morning girls?  "Cricket cricket..."

My point in telling you all of this is that I cannot go back to sleep.  I started to pray, (and, sadly, in the early mornings, I usually fall back asleep), but it didn't do the trick.  Then, I started Facebooking people I was thinking about.  Still awake.  Then I tried to think of sheep frolicking around on the beautiful hills of Ireland.  Now I'm wide awake.  At 6:44a Central Time.  I'm loving it. Don't tell anyone, but I'm a morning person at heart.  It's hard when night person me wants to stay up, but we'll manage.  And by we,  I mean I.  DaVinci used to sleep two hours at night, and he turned out okay.  I don't think he was schizophrenic...

The reason that I'm sharing my "Wake Up With Wollard" story is because I BibleGatewayed "sunrise" after the chain of events that just went down.  Mostly because it's just barely peeking through my window at present, and that's what I do sometimes.  I just randomly search words in the Bible, and see what verses pop up.  Not all the time, but a lot.

So now I'm blogging because I have to share what I've found.  It's different, eh?  Normally I write at, like, 11:34pm.  For the record, I'm kind of glad the blog was the last thing I thought to do.  I'm always nervous about it becoming an idol, me talking too much and not listening enough.  It's a disease that I have had before.  You get nervous when you've had a sickness & don't want it again.  I mean, diarrhea stinks, especially when it comes from the mouth.

Anyway.  Bad visual.  But you know it's true.

I've been praying this week that God would give me a new love for the Old Testament.  One of my goals in life is to understand Scripture way more than I do now.  The Old Testament and I have a great relationship, I'm in love with it, don't get me wrong, there is just so much in it that I don't understand.  And, heck, I'm 23, so I figure I have a few years to learn more.  It's what makes Christianity exciting to me; God is always on the move in my life, revealing things to me through the Bible when I ask him to.  When I listen & search.  Even in the random times!  Which is a lot.  It's why I'm so excited to be up this early reading it because finding ample time to study in the quiet is difficult.

Listening is a challenge, but it is vital.  Being deaf in one ear is hard, but I can still hear a whisper.  To hear the whisper of God means that I have to lean in close to his lips, close enough to feel his breath & the tickle of his consonants.  He's so articulate, but sometimes it's too loud around me, and we have to go into another space.  7:00a is a good space.

(And even though I just talked about listening, I'm going to keep talking now.  I just have to say one more thing.  Sorry to keep you in suspense.  Sunrise is coming.)

For those of you who have never read the Bible, or maybe only a few times in life, I'd suggest giving it a try.  It may feel scary or intimidating at first, but you would be amazed.  You can come to my house in Illinois, and we can read it together.  Fo ril.  I'll send you my address and everything.  Unless I don't know you.  Then we might have to meet at Starbucks.  Or you can wait until I'm walking again, and I'll hobble to you.  Or, you can read it on your own.  If you don't own a Bible, go to a website called BibleGateway.com & type in  "Proverbs 30:18-19" and "1 John 3:16"... If you forget to include the "1" in front of "John", that's okay.  It's a good verse too, but it's in a separate book.  Those are great places to start.


For those of you who feel like you don't read it enough, I simply say this: Be still.  You and I have a lot in common.  But be still, and know that God is God.  Make it your goal to simply listen; don't get hung up on guilt, but move closer when you're led to move closer.  Your feet do work, I promise.  You are a beautiful dancer, a fierce jouster, and a thirsty tree; drink when you need water.  Don't dehydrate.  And, yes, I know trees don't have feet, but it feels right to be compared to a thristy tree.  Trees need a lot of water.  A mature Oak Tree can drink almost 50 gallons of water a day.  That's you and I.  Dehydration can be sneaky, and I don't want you to lose limbs in the winter-time.  It's cold and windy out there.

For those of you who are faithful readers and appliers, I admire you.  Thank you for being an example and an encouragement to me.  I know it is a discipline that takes time to develop, and I'm thankful that God has given you so much grace.

To all of you on the in between places in that little spectrum I just created, sorry.  Guess you don't count.  ; )  You can come be a nomad with me!

Okay.  Just had to get that off my chest.  Finally...here it is!

Here's the verse (in a little context):

"LORD, I have heard of your fame;
   I stand in awe of your deeds, Lord.
Repeat them in our day,
   in our time make them known;
   in wrath remember mercy. 

His glory covered the heavens
   and his praise filled the earth.
His splendor was like the sunrise;
   rays flashed from his hand,
   where his power was hidden. 

The Sovereign Lord is my strength;
   he makes my feet like the feet of a deer,
   he enables me to tread on the heights."


It's 8:00a now.  The sun is ablaze, orange and pink streaming down my street.  There is a beautiful street lamp right outside of my window, reminding me of Narnia.  A gigantic Weeping Willow sits across the street, her yellow hair blowing in the wind, shining in the sun.  That same side of the street has a gold glow; His powerful rays burying themselves in the freshly fallen snow.  And, even though it is very cold outside, there is a crispness, and a clarity that I can only seem to find in Winter.

I pray that you, (yes, you) find your gaze lifted high today, into the clear blue skies.  Be still today.  May you stand in awe in the deeds of your Maker, and may he enable you to tread on the heights.

Verses taken from  Habakkuk 3:2, 3.5, 4, & 19

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Unfolding.

I painted a picture today of a little girl looking out of a window at a ladybug on a tree.  The little girl had a beard, and the tree had some fungal disease.  My friend from high school, Carolyn, was quite gracious to me, and kept saying, "It's a form of creative expression, and you're doing a good job."  Bless her heart.  It looked like a seven-year-old had painted it.  No offense, seven-year-olds.

It was funny for me to watch the painting unfold.  There were moments when I would mess something up & just want to be done, or I didn't know what to do next & I just wanted to be done.  There are so many kinds of things that unfold like that - your laundry if you do it with a two-year-old, paper when you are doing origami, and different kinds of events.  Events are things that unfold, right?  Sometimes over a long period of time, sometimes over a span of only a few days, or even a few minutes.

The idea of time is such an interesting concept to me.  So much has happened in the last 24 hours, things that I don't even know about.  All across the world people are doing different things at different times: sleeping & waking, eating & working.  Events happen in the small moments; the extraordinary unfolding itself out of the ordinary and the humble.  It's a mystery to me, and it's something that gets me really excited when I think about it.

I am reminded of this especially because my sister, Jen, is in India right now, a place I have always wanted to go.  I met a young, newlywed couple at a conference in 2006, called Urbana.  Their passion was for India, and the people there.  I admired them, and was so encouraged by my conversation with them.  Since that conversation, I have wanted to travel there, and when my sister received the opportunity, I was thrilled for her.  Their time difference is ten hours ahead of mine, so right now it is nearly 5:00am.  In a couple of hours, she'll be getting up & I'll be getting ready for bed.  I find myself wondering what she'll be doing in her next day, and what little events there that will make up such an incredible experience.  It's the little things that make the big things.  I'm praying that God teaches her what it means to be an ambassador of Jesus, not just in a country different from her own, but every day of her life.  She's such an amazing young woman.  You can see what she's doing in India here: http://utabsm.wordpress.com/

That is something that God has definitely taught me in the last years: what it means to be an ambassador.  I don't work for an embassy or anything (I wish!), but what it means to be an ambassador on Jesus' behalf.  Two years ago this month, I had the incredible opportunity to travel to Ireland.  The trip's focus was on reconciliation, and what that meant for the Church.  I went because it was a subject that I knew little about, and I wanted to learn more.  Reconciliation has many different definitions, so it proved to be a lot more difficult than I thought it would be.  Dictionary.com's definitions are okay...they aren't the best, but some of the definitions are: "to cause (a person) to accept or be resigned to something not desired", "to bring into agreement or harmony; make compatible or consistent", "to win over to friendliness; cause to become amicable to compose or settle", "to reconsecrate", or "to restore."

2 Corinthians 5:18 & 19 says, "All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting people’s sins against them. And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation."

(The "All this" is talking about how when someone makes a commitment to follow Jesus & to be like him, they become a new being, a "new creation".  It was in the previous verse.  In case you were wondering...)

We are reconciled to God, in the Christian faith, by Jesus.  Our relationship with God is restored by Jesus, and the Bible claims that it is only by Jesus that this can happen.  The ministry of reconciliation is something I care about because I have received it.  My relationship with God was once quite broken, but Jesus reconciled me to God.  He restored us.  Then, when you make a commitment to follow Him, and be like him, and love like him, and think like him, and serve like him, you become his ambassador.  You literally represent Jesus because he takes your heart & makes it like his. You are his, and he is yours.

"We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us. We implore you on Christ’s behalf: Be reconciled to God. God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God."  (That's verses 20 & 21.)

Being an ambassador is a choice; it is a huge responsibility that Jesus-followers are given, but it is one that I have to choose everyday.  Becoming more like God each day is something I have to sort of invite myself to do.  What makes it difficult is that fear, pain, and/or frustration are barriers that can get in the way.

Yesterday was my first time upstairs for a bath.  I crawled up the stairs, scooted into the bathroom, and slid into the tub.  The choices that were being made by Catie Wollard at this point in time were made out of not only fear, but stress and temperature maladjustments.  I was freaking out, yet again.  To the point of tears.  "My cast is going to get wet!  I can't let my right leg soak too long!  You got the duct tape on my leg hair!!!"

It was so not how I envisioned my first bath at home; I had pictured a long, luxurious soak complete with bubbles and a good book.  Normalcy returned.  Freedom found.  Nope.  Freezing because I couldn't get the knob right, no soaking aloud, and really really uncomfortable.  It's in those moments, when my expectations let me down, that I truly have to choose to be an ambassador of Jesus.  Needless to say, my parents we not feeling the love.  At all.  And that's just a stupid bath.

An area of pain, (and an area that is way less superficial), that I still feel even after moving away is that Milwaukee, WI is the second most segregated city in the United States, behind Detroit, MI.  Different sources say different things, but Milwaukee & Detroit toggle back and forth.  Racial reconciliation is one kind of reconciliation that has become a priority in my heart because I think it is something that God deeply cares about: unity amongst his people.  Healing.  Peace.  Restoration.  There are Biblical calls to each of these things.  These things come in Jesus.  God calls his people to be ambassadors in places where they may not feel comfortable.

An area where I feel particularly frustrated is in where I'm going to work when I'm walking again.  I've talked about it several times before, but it's constantly resurfacing itself.  I'm frustrated with myself for not being more proactive, and having more direction & vision.  I'm sad that I've had to let go of the expectations that I have had for myself and my future job.

I have to choose to be an ambassador.  Daily.  To try and have the mindset of Jesus - I have to choose to care about the things that Scripture says Jesus cared about, no matter how I feel, or what society says.  And I have to continue to pray that God leads me where he wants me, and helps me to respond the way that he wants me to respond.

I'm so thankful that as my story unfolds, his grace does as well.