This is so gross, buy my skin is so itchy right now. Despite all attempts to sooth the itchiness, it still itches. It's actually proved to be quite the challenge today, and I think I failed at some points. I was slightly irritable towards my family. More than once. Not being able to itch my scabs, while dealing with peely skin is nasty. I feel like Eustice in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader; I have all these itchy scales on me, and they just won't come off. I can't pick them either.
The illustration that C.S. Lewis uses in one of the Chronicles of Narnia is with a snotty young boy name Eustice. He stumbles upon treasure while exploring an island with is cousins, and he turns into a dragon. It is a bit far-fetched, but my favorite part of this illustration comes when Aslan jumps in to the rescue. Eustice tries and tries to scratch the scales away, but the attempts are futile. Then, he allows Aslan to pick the scales off one by one (a less painful option), but (I think) they come back. Finally, Aslan has to rip open the skin on the back of the dragon, and pull it off so that Eustice can escape the curse of dragonhood.
It's incredibly graphic, but incredibly true. Sometimes the re-shaping of our hearts and lives is painful, but it is well worth it. Jesus has to take all of our baggage in order for healing to come. He has to dig into the deepest, dirtiest parts of our lives in order for us to be free. And I'm so thankful for him. One, that he is willing and ready to do that, but that I can trust him with those things. Itchiness is temporary, but trusting him can last forever. Thank you, Jesus!
I can't believe it is already a new year. I'm so excited for 2011, and I'm itching to see what it holds. (Sorry, couldn't help myself. : )
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Thursday, December 30, 2010
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.
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.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Commitment.
It's a scary word, no? Commitment. What do you think of? Family? Marriage? Dating? Meetings? Weekend plans that you desperately want out of?
I strongly dislike the word, and the stigma attached. I mean, I don't even like to make weekend plans because I'm afraid of being tied down. Seriously! I think it's an illness that plagues too many people. I want to draw some attention to Matthew 11:27-30:
"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."
Some people had to go back to work this week, and I'm using this verse as an encouragement to you. Some people had to work all last weekend, so may you be encouraged to. Still others have the entire week off, but they carry such heavy loads in their hearts & minds - may this verse also be an encouragement to you.
How easily we are burdened by the things of this world. I am so thankful for Jesus. I am so thankful that he is such a willing and patient Teacher. I am incredibly thankful that he longs to be committed to us. I mean, think about it. Not only are we invited to lay at his feet, which is where we find rest, but we are allowed to learn from him. And to think! His yoke is easy! And his burden is light! He is ever-committed, and he never lets us down! A yoke is something that we are tied to him with, similar to the yoke of farm animals. It is a great commitment also on our part, and worth it. But what of his burden?
What do you think Jesus' burden entails? What, truly, was his burden? And how is it light? You see, I was always quite confused by this. If Jesus came to take away the sins of all who enter into a relationship with him, then how is his burden light? What I failed to realize is that I am not called to take away the sins of myself, or of those around me. I am called to be yoked to him, in step with him, side by side with where he is leading. This yoke & burden are often hard work, but they are a joy because he is there.
For some readers of this blog, my talk of Jesus may be unsettling. Some of you are still unsure of whether Jesus was a liar, a lunatic, or Lord. Still others know what they think - he is one of the three for each of you. But I can't help but talk about him, and I can't apologize for the endless words spoken about him, the never-ending conversation about this man. I find myself yoked to him, committed to him, and though each step is sometimes muddy or thorny or filled with rocks in the field, I can't describe the joy that I feel because I'm next to him. The burden truly becomes light. Even when I'm staring down the barrel of the beginning of a new chapter.
I start physical therapy tomorrow. It will just be an assessment/evaluation, but it is the start nonetheless. I have not hidden how I feel about physical therapy: I'm not looking forward to it. I know that it will have me walking again, but the steps that it will take to get there will be grueling. And you would agree if you could see the size of my ridiculous calves. : )
But. My burden is light, and I'm entering in with an open mind. I'm ready to learn from Jesus. I'm ready for what he is going to teach me, what he has for me in the day. I'm trying not to focus on lengths of time, but on the day. To learn means that I need to get better at listening.
My family and I have committed to memorizing scripture together in the next weeks, and I'm very excited. I feel like I have so spiritual disciplines to work on, and memorizing scripture is a huge weakness for me. Meditating on Scripture is talked about in the Bible many times; I am not taking this commitment lightly. With this commitment, and my my need to practice better listening, I'm not sure how much talking/writing I will be doing in the next weeks. Maybe not as much as I have been in the last couple of months, but maybe I will. Only the Lord knows. I have followed his leading within this blog thus far, and I will continue to do so. Please pray for me, not just for the continued healing of my legs (of which he deserves all the credit, and infinitely more praise), but also that I may have ears that are in tune with his voice. I so long for him to speak to me through Scripture, and I am looking forward to all that he is going to teach me. Please also pray for my family that we will follow-through with our commitment, and that we can listen to the Lord more clearly.
I strongly dislike the word, and the stigma attached. I mean, I don't even like to make weekend plans because I'm afraid of being tied down. Seriously! I think it's an illness that plagues too many people. I want to draw some attention to Matthew 11:27-30:
"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."
Some people had to go back to work this week, and I'm using this verse as an encouragement to you. Some people had to work all last weekend, so may you be encouraged to. Still others have the entire week off, but they carry such heavy loads in their hearts & minds - may this verse also be an encouragement to you.
How easily we are burdened by the things of this world. I am so thankful for Jesus. I am so thankful that he is such a willing and patient Teacher. I am incredibly thankful that he longs to be committed to us. I mean, think about it. Not only are we invited to lay at his feet, which is where we find rest, but we are allowed to learn from him. And to think! His yoke is easy! And his burden is light! He is ever-committed, and he never lets us down! A yoke is something that we are tied to him with, similar to the yoke of farm animals. It is a great commitment also on our part, and worth it. But what of his burden?
What do you think Jesus' burden entails? What, truly, was his burden? And how is it light? You see, I was always quite confused by this. If Jesus came to take away the sins of all who enter into a relationship with him, then how is his burden light? What I failed to realize is that I am not called to take away the sins of myself, or of those around me. I am called to be yoked to him, in step with him, side by side with where he is leading. This yoke & burden are often hard work, but they are a joy because he is there.
For some readers of this blog, my talk of Jesus may be unsettling. Some of you are still unsure of whether Jesus was a liar, a lunatic, or Lord. Still others know what they think - he is one of the three for each of you. But I can't help but talk about him, and I can't apologize for the endless words spoken about him, the never-ending conversation about this man. I find myself yoked to him, committed to him, and though each step is sometimes muddy or thorny or filled with rocks in the field, I can't describe the joy that I feel because I'm next to him. The burden truly becomes light. Even when I'm staring down the barrel of the beginning of a new chapter.
I start physical therapy tomorrow. It will just be an assessment/evaluation, but it is the start nonetheless. I have not hidden how I feel about physical therapy: I'm not looking forward to it. I know that it will have me walking again, but the steps that it will take to get there will be grueling. And you would agree if you could see the size of my ridiculous calves. : )
But. My burden is light, and I'm entering in with an open mind. I'm ready to learn from Jesus. I'm ready for what he is going to teach me, what he has for me in the day. I'm trying not to focus on lengths of time, but on the day. To learn means that I need to get better at listening.
My family and I have committed to memorizing scripture together in the next weeks, and I'm very excited. I feel like I have so spiritual disciplines to work on, and memorizing scripture is a huge weakness for me. Meditating on Scripture is talked about in the Bible many times; I am not taking this commitment lightly. With this commitment, and my my need to practice better listening, I'm not sure how much talking/writing I will be doing in the next weeks. Maybe not as much as I have been in the last couple of months, but maybe I will. Only the Lord knows. I have followed his leading within this blog thus far, and I will continue to do so. Please pray for me, not just for the continued healing of my legs (of which he deserves all the credit, and infinitely more praise), but also that I may have ears that are in tune with his voice. I so long for him to speak to me through Scripture, and I am looking forward to all that he is going to teach me. Please also pray for my family that we will follow-through with our commitment, and that we can listen to the Lord more clearly.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Fly.
Do you know the saying, "time flies when you're having fun"?
It is true.
It seems like yesterday we were picking my sister up from the airport, and tomorrow she is leaving with my aunt to go back to Dallas. Not quite sure how I feel about this, but I can't believe how fast time hast gone. It's been so awesome to relax, take a break from everything, and spend time with my family. I am so richly blessed.
A verse that I was reading tonight is 1 Chronicles 29:11:
"All that is in heaven and earth is Yours; Yours is the kingdom, O Lord, and You are exalted as head over all."
I read that in my "Our Daily Bread" booklet sent by a dear, dear lady at my church in Milwaukee. Aaaand...I don't think anyone my age is reading it, but when we all turn 60, we'll start. Ha ha. It was so sweet of this lady to think of me, and she has been a tremendous blessing on my journey. I've really enjoyed what I used to call "the old people packet". (This name comes because when I was very young, we would visit my great-grandma Miller, and she would always have them out. I loved to thumb through them because they were like baby books, but they were always really confusing. She would explain to me what she was learning from them though, and I always listened because she was very wise. She had white hair & she smelled so good, and she made me feel like a million bucks.)
All that we have belongs to God: our time, our family members, our spiritual gifts, our purpose, our possessions, the very breath that we breathe. It is all his. And he is so graciously generous, isn't he? He gives with grace. There is no awkwardness. I cannot believe all that he has lavished on me; I can't believe he gives such amazing gifts. Healing. Passion. Words. Change. Love. All that I have is his, and I'm so thankful that he gives generously.
I pray that if my family were taken away from me, or house were taken away, and I didn't know where I was going to turn for food or clothes, or if something happened to me that was worse than breaking both legs that I would still have the same thought-process. That I would still be completely reliant on him.
I am incredibly thankful for the time that God has gifted me with. Is really does fly, but I'm so thankful that he has given me what he has. It is such an amazing gift.
It is true.
It seems like yesterday we were picking my sister up from the airport, and tomorrow she is leaving with my aunt to go back to Dallas. Not quite sure how I feel about this, but I can't believe how fast time hast gone. It's been so awesome to relax, take a break from everything, and spend time with my family. I am so richly blessed.
A verse that I was reading tonight is 1 Chronicles 29:11:
"All that is in heaven and earth is Yours; Yours is the kingdom, O Lord, and You are exalted as head over all."
I read that in my "Our Daily Bread" booklet sent by a dear, dear lady at my church in Milwaukee. Aaaand...I don't think anyone my age is reading it, but when we all turn 60, we'll start. Ha ha. It was so sweet of this lady to think of me, and she has been a tremendous blessing on my journey. I've really enjoyed what I used to call "the old people packet". (This name comes because when I was very young, we would visit my great-grandma Miller, and she would always have them out. I loved to thumb through them because they were like baby books, but they were always really confusing. She would explain to me what she was learning from them though, and I always listened because she was very wise. She had white hair & she smelled so good, and she made me feel like a million bucks.)
All that we have belongs to God: our time, our family members, our spiritual gifts, our purpose, our possessions, the very breath that we breathe. It is all his. And he is so graciously generous, isn't he? He gives with grace. There is no awkwardness. I cannot believe all that he has lavished on me; I can't believe he gives such amazing gifts. Healing. Passion. Words. Change. Love. All that I have is his, and I'm so thankful that he gives generously.
I pray that if my family were taken away from me, or house were taken away, and I didn't know where I was going to turn for food or clothes, or if something happened to me that was worse than breaking both legs that I would still have the same thought-process. That I would still be completely reliant on him.
I am incredibly thankful for the time that God has gifted me with. Is really does fly, but I'm so thankful that he has given me what he has. It is such an amazing gift.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Simplicity.
This morning my little sister said, "You know it's funny, I love how Jesus gives us gifts when it's his birthday." That is the truth. This morning was a huge blessing for me, not just because of my amazing family or what I received, but because I am thankful that I'm alive, breathing, and in love with Jesus. In my warm, good-smelling house this morning, I can't stop thinking about people who I've heard of or know in my life who might feel a little differently than I - people without homes, family members, or money for presents. My thanks to the original author who started this description of Jesus' life:
Jesus was God,
yet he allowed his birth to happen in a stable.
He had no servants,
yet they called Him Master. He had no degree,
yet they called Him Teacher.
He had no medicines,
yet they called Him Healer.
He chose not to use an army
and yet they feared Him.
He fought no military battles,
yet He conquered the world.
He committed no crime,
yet they crucified Him.
He was buried in a tomb,
yet He lives today.
It's amazing how complicated things can become sometimes, but Jesus' birth was so simple. His lifestyle was so simple. This morning I find myself drawn in that simplicity. As cliche as it sounds, He truly is the best gift that we will ever, ever receive in this world. The only gift that gives eternal joy. No matter what feelings today hold for you, may you be able to find yourself drawn into the embrace of this gift.
Merry Christmas, friends.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Grinchy.
The Grinch was on tonight, and I've decided that I have Grinch-like tendencies. This morning my friend left to head back to Racine, my three younger sisters went on an outing with my aunt & eventually my dad headed to word. It was just me and the momma, which I always enjoy. I mean, come on! It's Christmas Eve Eve! Whoo hoo!! But, instead, I gave in to my mopey side. I was left at home, and I had to schedule my physical therapy appointment. "Poor me", right? No. It's not that bad, but it put me in a grumpy mood nonetheless. To make matters worse, I keep forgetting to take my nerve medication, and it really affects how I feel. More than I think, I think. I'm setting three alarms tomorrow.
Anyway. Back to talking about movies (which is becoming sort of a trend. I'm so torn about watching so many movies, I love them, but they are a waste of time. There are so many other things that I could be doing, even when I'm doing other things while I watch them. But, as usual, I'm watching a movie this evening, and finding some connection to how I live my life.) The Grinch is a movie that never really sounds good to me, but it's a tradition. Once it's on, I'm hooin' and hawin' with the best of them, but there's just something that turns me off when I contemplate watching this movie!
Tonight, it struck me because I've never really paid that much attention to the part where his heart starts growing. Jim Carrey is so ridiculous. I'm always laughing so hard at the part where he says, "I'm leaking" (because he's crying) that I miss where he starts writhing in pain, and flopping around in the snow, making the most obscene faces. I realized tonight that THAT is me!
Here's how: Today, while I was scheduling my first physical therapy appointment, I became quite overwhelmed by the fact that I am going to have to regularly be around a lot of people again.. To be quite honest, I am really not looking forward to it. Frankly, I have enjoyed the solitude and rest that God has blessed me with, and I sort of feel like I have forgotten how to relate to people. The receptionist that I talked to wasn't the nicest chocolate-covered cherry in the box, but she wasn't hateful. People have jobs to do, I get that, but I was just overwhelmed.
"Okay. So, I need for you to give me a short description of how you got your injury."
(here's where I start to get annoyed...why do they need to know how it happened, and not what happened?)
"Well, I was rock climbing, I wasn't clipped in, and I fell 20 feet."
"OH MY GOSH! Well, that sure is a story! At least you didn't land on your head!"
giggles..."Why weren't you clipped in? Was it your fault?"
"Yes. I didn't clip myself in."
"Ooooooh, okay."
"What gym was it at?" blah blah blah
"Can you give me the name?" blah blah blah
"Do you have the address?" Lady, are you serious? No!
WHY DOES IT MATTER!?!? You, dear lady, are not my insurance person! You are my physical therapist scheduler!!!!!!!!! YOU DO NOT NEED THE WHOLE STORY!
Man. I was so annoyed. I don't know why. This lady was just doing her job - she was nice enough, and just curious. I'm used to telling my story over and over again, and I'm thankful to be able to tell it. Really, I am. It's just that at that moment, I didn't want to have to tell it. I really don't think any of the information I gave her is going to help my PT know how to treat my legs, but I went with it. I didn't really let on that I was annoyed, but inside I just wanted to cry.
This time of the year can bring a lot of negative emotions, right? It's such a joyful time - the birth of the Messiah! But, it seems to come with so much baggage. Frustration with family members, what may seem like excessive traveling, in the snow, unresolved conflict, discontentment with work looming overhead, lack of meaning or direction during a phase of life, answering questions to people you don't know, bitterness, fear, anxiety, insecurity...all of these things tempt us, don't they?
It's here that my Grinch scene starts to take place. I hit the ground, whining and writhing. "Grrrr. Gaaaahh, uuuugggghhhh." I realized how selfish I was being, and it's at that point that my heart starts to enlarge.
When God takes our hearts and grows them, molds them, shapes them, and stretches them, it is sometimes painful. Sometimes humiliating. Sometimes overwhelming. But, his hands are the only place where our hearts belong. He molds us to be like Jesus. And, man, I want to be like Jesus; in the form of a baby he was willing, humble, gentle & warm, even in the midst of a cold, dark, messy night.
Anyway. Back to talking about movies (which is becoming sort of a trend. I'm so torn about watching so many movies, I love them, but they are a waste of time. There are so many other things that I could be doing, even when I'm doing other things while I watch them. But, as usual, I'm watching a movie this evening, and finding some connection to how I live my life.) The Grinch is a movie that never really sounds good to me, but it's a tradition. Once it's on, I'm hooin' and hawin' with the best of them, but there's just something that turns me off when I contemplate watching this movie!
Tonight, it struck me because I've never really paid that much attention to the part where his heart starts growing. Jim Carrey is so ridiculous. I'm always laughing so hard at the part where he says, "I'm leaking" (because he's crying) that I miss where he starts writhing in pain, and flopping around in the snow, making the most obscene faces. I realized tonight that THAT is me!
Here's how: Today, while I was scheduling my first physical therapy appointment, I became quite overwhelmed by the fact that I am going to have to regularly be around a lot of people again.. To be quite honest, I am really not looking forward to it. Frankly, I have enjoyed the solitude and rest that God has blessed me with, and I sort of feel like I have forgotten how to relate to people. The receptionist that I talked to wasn't the nicest chocolate-covered cherry in the box, but she wasn't hateful. People have jobs to do, I get that, but I was just overwhelmed.
"Okay. So, I need for you to give me a short description of how you got your injury."
(here's where I start to get annoyed...why do they need to know how it happened, and not what happened?)
"Well, I was rock climbing, I wasn't clipped in, and I fell 20 feet."
"OH MY GOSH! Well, that sure is a story! At least you didn't land on your head!"
giggles..."Why weren't you clipped in? Was it your fault?"
"Yes. I didn't clip myself in."
"Ooooooh, okay."
"What gym was it at?" blah blah blah
"Can you give me the name?" blah blah blah
"Do you have the address?" Lady, are you serious? No!
WHY DOES IT MATTER!?!? You, dear lady, are not my insurance person! You are my physical therapist scheduler!!!!!!!!! YOU DO NOT NEED THE WHOLE STORY!
Man. I was so annoyed. I don't know why. This lady was just doing her job - she was nice enough, and just curious. I'm used to telling my story over and over again, and I'm thankful to be able to tell it. Really, I am. It's just that at that moment, I didn't want to have to tell it. I really don't think any of the information I gave her is going to help my PT know how to treat my legs, but I went with it. I didn't really let on that I was annoyed, but inside I just wanted to cry.
This time of the year can bring a lot of negative emotions, right? It's such a joyful time - the birth of the Messiah! But, it seems to come with so much baggage. Frustration with family members, what may seem like excessive traveling, in the snow, unresolved conflict, discontentment with work looming overhead, lack of meaning or direction during a phase of life, answering questions to people you don't know, bitterness, fear, anxiety, insecurity...all of these things tempt us, don't they?
It's here that my Grinch scene starts to take place. I hit the ground, whining and writhing. "Grrrr. Gaaaahh, uuuugggghhhh." I realized how selfish I was being, and it's at that point that my heart starts to enlarge.
When God takes our hearts and grows them, molds them, shapes them, and stretches them, it is sometimes painful. Sometimes humiliating. Sometimes overwhelming. But, his hands are the only place where our hearts belong. He molds us to be like Jesus. And, man, I want to be like Jesus; in the form of a baby he was willing, humble, gentle & warm, even in the midst of a cold, dark, messy night.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Translation.
I have a physical therapist spending the night tonight. No, it's not someone I picked up at the office today, it's my dear, dear friend Emily! We had such a blast this evening. She brought over gingerbread houses all the way from Racine, WI. I covered mine in pink frosting. Like, literally, covered. It looked like a three-year-old created a house, and their favorite color was pink. Except my favorite color is most definitely not pink, and I'm pretty sure HJ could have done a better job. I mostly just got carried away, but I blamed it on the fact that Santa got run over by his reindeer.
: )
I actually called my physical-therapist-to-be today about scheduling an appointment, and apparently, the receptionist needs more than a "referral". She needs "orders". Who knew? I need a medical translator! All of the information is pretty much the same, but the sheet has a different title. I just hope that I can schedule an appointment soon! As much as I've enjoyed the rest & time that God has so richly blessed me with in the last two months, I'm excited to start using my feet again. And I'm excited to swim in their indoor POOL!
I'm really going to miss playing with my Rosetta Stone. I have a feeling that once PT starts, I probably won't be using my time the same way I have been. I've been using R.S. for about three weeks now, and didn't realize I even had access to it! Once I did, my student loan debt seemed a little less overwhelming. Carroll offers Rosetta Stone to its alumni! Pretty sweet deal, right? Somehow I feel like it lessens the blow of a $30,000 tuition bill. That's one expensive piece of software, eh?
Anyway, I've spent some time freshening up my Espanol skills. So far, not so good, but that's okay! Rosetta does not like my accent. I'm working on it. I tallied up the years, and it's been almost SIX since I've taken a Spanish class. Cah-razy! I really wish that I had listened to my inner-wiser self when I was in high school..."Take Spanish all four years, not twooooo, not twoooooooooo" I didn't listen. Now I'm reaping what I've sown. I can't remember a lick of what I learned, with the exception of, "¿Donde esta el bano?", which means, "Where's the bathroom?" And "platanos" because bananas are my favorite fruit.
I know several songs in Spanish, and I treasure them greatly. InterVarsity played a major role in shaping my understanding of what it means to worship God, and what it means to do so in other languages & styles than I might be used to. Something I have also been learning over the last several years is the freedom that we have in the church to worship God outside of the barriers that the world places us in. One of those barriers happens to be language. And when I say barrier, I do not imply that people who speak different languages cannot relate to one another, or connect to one another. I simply mean that language can sometimes keep us from complete unity. From understanding.
One of my favorite Christmas songs has been stuck in my head for quite some time. My dad came down the stairs singing it this morning, and I couldn't help but giggle. It's stuck in his too, apparently. Anyway, I got to thinking about how wonderful it would be to sing my favorite song in Spanish! Here's how it goes:
Santa la noche hermosas las estrellas
La noche cuando nació el Señor
El mundo envuelto estuvo en sus querellas.
Hasta que Dios nos envió al Salvador
Una esperanza todo el mundo siente
La luz de un nuevo día al fin brilló
Hoy adorad a Cristo reverente,
¡Oh, noche divina!¡Nació el Salvador!
Divina noche de Cristo el Señor
Hoy adorad a Cristo reverente,
¡Oh, noche divina!¡Nació el Salvador!
Divina noche de Cristo el Señor
I may have to migrate to a Spanish-speaking church for a while, just so that I can absorb their music. I would love to go to a Christmas Eve service at midnight this Friday, and sing Santa La Noche, "Oh Holy Night". I can't wait to hear what language is like in heaven. And I can't wait until every barrier is broken down between human beings. It is my belief that the breaking down of those barriers starts now, within our world, because God's garden has been planted! Another way of saying this is that his kingdom is here, right now! One way that we can tangibly show that is to sing songs that may not be in our first language. I love it.
I pray that barriers would continue to crumble within our lives & within the body of Jesus, even in this holiday, and that we can continue to be stretched and shaped into the likeness of Him whose birth we celebrate.
: )
I actually called my physical-therapist-to-be today about scheduling an appointment, and apparently, the receptionist needs more than a "referral". She needs "orders". Who knew? I need a medical translator! All of the information is pretty much the same, but the sheet has a different title. I just hope that I can schedule an appointment soon! As much as I've enjoyed the rest & time that God has so richly blessed me with in the last two months, I'm excited to start using my feet again. And I'm excited to swim in their indoor POOL!
I'm really going to miss playing with my Rosetta Stone. I have a feeling that once PT starts, I probably won't be using my time the same way I have been. I've been using R.S. for about three weeks now, and didn't realize I even had access to it! Once I did, my student loan debt seemed a little less overwhelming. Carroll offers Rosetta Stone to its alumni! Pretty sweet deal, right? Somehow I feel like it lessens the blow of a $30,000 tuition bill. That's one expensive piece of software, eh?
Anyway, I've spent some time freshening up my Espanol skills. So far, not so good, but that's okay! Rosetta does not like my accent. I'm working on it. I tallied up the years, and it's been almost SIX since I've taken a Spanish class. Cah-razy! I really wish that I had listened to my inner-wiser self when I was in high school..."Take Spanish all four years, not twooooo, not twoooooooooo" I didn't listen. Now I'm reaping what I've sown. I can't remember a lick of what I learned, with the exception of, "¿Donde esta el bano?", which means, "Where's the bathroom?" And "platanos" because bananas are my favorite fruit.
I know several songs in Spanish, and I treasure them greatly. InterVarsity played a major role in shaping my understanding of what it means to worship God, and what it means to do so in other languages & styles than I might be used to. Something I have also been learning over the last several years is the freedom that we have in the church to worship God outside of the barriers that the world places us in. One of those barriers happens to be language. And when I say barrier, I do not imply that people who speak different languages cannot relate to one another, or connect to one another. I simply mean that language can sometimes keep us from complete unity. From understanding.
One of my favorite Christmas songs has been stuck in my head for quite some time. My dad came down the stairs singing it this morning, and I couldn't help but giggle. It's stuck in his too, apparently. Anyway, I got to thinking about how wonderful it would be to sing my favorite song in Spanish! Here's how it goes:
Santa la noche hermosas las estrellas
La noche cuando nació el Señor
El mundo envuelto estuvo en sus querellas.
Hasta que Dios nos envió al Salvador
Una esperanza todo el mundo siente
La luz de un nuevo día al fin brilló
Hoy adorad a Cristo reverente,
¡Oh, noche divina!¡Nació el Salvador!
Divina noche de Cristo el Señor
Hoy adorad a Cristo reverente,
¡Oh, noche divina!¡Nació el Salvador!
Divina noche de Cristo el Señor
I may have to migrate to a Spanish-speaking church for a while, just so that I can absorb their music. I would love to go to a Christmas Eve service at midnight this Friday, and sing Santa La Noche, "Oh Holy Night". I can't wait to hear what language is like in heaven. And I can't wait until every barrier is broken down between human beings. It is my belief that the breaking down of those barriers starts now, within our world, because God's garden has been planted! Another way of saying this is that his kingdom is here, right now! One way that we can tangibly show that is to sing songs that may not be in our first language. I love it.
I pray that barriers would continue to crumble within our lives & within the body of Jesus, even in this holiday, and that we can continue to be stretched and shaped into the likeness of Him whose birth we celebrate.
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