Copycat.

I have some very, very great news.  I have been approved for AQUA therapy.  Yippee!

So. All my life I have secretly been jealous of the elderly people that got to do workout classes in the pool.  I've seen it on videos, and gawked at them in the pool as a kid...I mean, what better way is there to work out than in the water?  I have always felt like "working out" was such a lame way to spend time.  All you have to do is look at my fat roll to see that, so I'm not really stating anything other than the obvious, but I just would rather do something constructive with my time.  Go for a bike ride, roller blade, jump on a trampoline, play a game outside, dance around the kitchen, run around with people, rock climb...you get the idea, right?  I've never been one for going to a class to "do a workout", or watching a video to "do a workout".

My only exception is in the pool.  I will "do a workout" in the pool.  The problem is that only old people do their workouts in the pool.  I think you have to be a certain age even.  Just to join.  It's like secret old peoples club.  No offense old people.  I think you're cool.

But now.  I have a legitimate excuse!  I have found a way into the secret club!  It's broken legs!  I can't even contain my excitement.  As soon as I get the cast off on my left leg (less than two weeks), I'm hitting that water like seven year old doing a cannonball.  I'll wiggle myself from my wheelchair and just fall in, face forward. 


There actually is a good reason to do it too, I'm not just milking things for what they are worth.  Being able to take a lot of the pressure off of my feet, but still being able to bend them is going to help me walk sooner, apparently.  Who knew?  It actually works!


My trip to the physical therapist yesterday went very well.  I was a little nervous whenever I'd think about the appointment during the day, but once I got in there I was just fine.  My therapist took measurements of my foot, and had me bend it forward and backward as much as I could.  It was quite humorous because it didn't really look like it was moving a whole lot.  : )  It's pretty much stuck in one position.  But she touched my gnarly-looking feet, and showed me how to exercise them so that I can gain more flexibility.  It's wobbly, but not for long.  Dun dundun DUN!  They will be strong like bull soon.

On my way out of the appointment, a woman with a naturally twangy voice asked me, "I'm just dying to know, curiaaaasity is killllling the caaat.  What happened to your feet?"  It's amazing to me how many people will ask me this question in a day.  Right?  I'm sure you've been there.  And how many times I will answer them.  My mom thinks I put too much detail into my reply to people, and that I shouldn't be so descriptive of the "I forgot to clip in" part.  I agree, but they always ask how it happens, so I tell the truth.  I've talked much about how humbling it is, and it continues to be, but I find myself getting more annoyed at just having to tell the story over and over and over and over and over again.  In one day.  It's really tiring.

Here's the thing though.  It's not my story to keep trapped inside my lips.  I'm not the author of this story.  The redeemer of this story.  The editor of this story.  And maybe I haven't made that as clear as I should have throughout the last couple of months?  To myself or to the people that I have been dialoguing with.

I read tonight in Ephesians that we are to "Be imitators of God, as dearly loved children, and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God."  It's in verses 1 & 2, which are just after the verses my family & I are memorizing.  I love those lines so much. 

I think of watching little kids imitate their parents or siblings or someone they look up to.  Following their every move, trying so hard to be just like who they are watching.  That is what we are to be like.  Imitating God, copycatting him in every way.  It is then that we become a fragrant offering, a sweet smell to those around us.  And guess what?  It is sacrificial.

As ridiculous as I sound, it is a sacrifice to my comfort every time I do tell this story.  I was convicted after reading this verse; I did not respond to the lady in the waiting room in love.  I was really annoyed at having to tell the whole story all over again.  I tried not to be snarky, but there wasn't joy in my response.  It was the first time that I really caught myself feeling that way.  The telling of this story was not a sweet-smelling fragrance, but just a happen-stance that was done and over with as I was wheeled out of the office.

And as much as I beat myself up over not being more of a light to that lady's life, I am thankful that God revealed that to me at my appointment; I need to imitate him everywhere I travel to, and in the telling of all of the good he has done in my life.  He deserves to be talked about; he is a wonderful, wonderful God.