Pace.

It feels like old times to me this evening.  Old times in the sense that it's 12:34 and I am wide awake.  I accidentally fell asleep at 7:30p while putting HJ to bed.  (In case you don't know, HJ is the 3-year-old that I have the privilege of living with.)  I used to do that all the time when I first entered the recovery stage.  It seems like such a long time ago.

I spent much of this afternoon thinking about my pace of life.  Isn't your pace of life so important?  I was reflecting upon the many, many ways that I have been encouraged by HJ and her parents in the last months.  I don't know if I could have moved back to Milwaukee if it hadn't been for them.  Their ability to give of their time and energy in such a self-sacrificial way has been an example to me.  The transition back to this city has been difficult, but it has been good.  So much has changed in the last three months.  I mean, I really have only been back here for three months!

This is crazy to me.  Like when you are watching a movie in 1.5 speed, slow enough to hear everything, but fast enough that you feel like you are saving a few precious minutes of your life.  And then, you accidentally hit the wrong button, and the movie goes into slow motion.  So, you try to compensate by fast forwarding again, and you miss the entire scene.  Then you have to rewind it, and you're back where you started.

I feel like this is a picture of my life.  I remember clinging to every door jamb and table to walk to my room when I first moved in.  I remember spending countless nights sobbing in my bed, wondering if I would ever be able to do the things I was doing before I fell.  Without having to think about it.  I remember my first time leading worship at Redeemer Church and looking for a railing before I did.  I remember the first time that I felt like I was walking normally.  I remember when I first ran with the kids I get to take care of each day.

Today I didn't need the railing at church, and after having lunch with friends, I walked around the entire Milwaukee Zoo.   It was there that I realized what I was doing.  I was actually passing people as I walked.  I love walking quickly, and it was so surreal today to step back and realize what I was actually doing.

A lot can happen in three months, apparently.

People often ask me if my legs still hurt, and I'm not really sure if I give them a good answer.  I mean, sometimes my left foot hurts, and sometimes it doesn't.  Sometimes I push myself really hard, and I'm fine.  Sometimes I'm not.  Sometimes I don't push myself very hard at all, and my foot hurts.  It's weird.  I don't really feel like the weather changes anything, but maybe it does.  Who knows.  The gas station man down the street thinks I'm crazy because some days I'll pop in, and I practically run up to him to get my free Brewer's ticket stamp.  Other times I limp in.  He said to me yesterday, "I thought your foot was better!?"  I showed him a flip flop and said, "Bad choice of shoes today."  Then I left.  He thinks I'm nuts, I tell you.  I am, for wearing flip flops.

I do not pace myself very well.  And then there are paces of life that I cannot control.  Fall is quickly upon us.  School starts for my sisters this week; they are Juniors in HS this year.  The other sister is back in Texas.  I start a new job a week from tomorrow.  I look at my life, and I wonder how on earth I got here.  It feels very surreal to be entering another season, especially when that season is fall.  It's almost ten months since I fell.

I miss writing in this little blog everyday.  I miss the pace of life that I had when I set aside time each day to spend communing with the Lord, reflecting on where I was in each moment.  I find that where I thought I would continue, I have not.  I haven't journaled in what feels like weeks.  I confess that I have not spent enough time communing with the Lord on a regular basis.

I came across this passage tonight, from the tail end of Romans 8:

^"What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?  He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?...Christ Jesus who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us.

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?  No... For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."  

As you and I enter into this new day, this new season, may we commit our pace to this Christ Jesus.  May everything that we say and do revolve around His love for us and for all people.