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.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
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):
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
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.
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.
and his praise filled the earth.
His splendor was like the sunrise;
rays flashed from his hand,
where his power was hidden.
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."
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.
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.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
LandO'Lincoln.
Winter is in full swing in Illinois. I have come to love this state with as much fervency as I had before I fell in love with Wisconsin. I think it's because Illinois has more permanency than any other for me. The Land of Lincoln. That's what it says on my state's license plate. Did you know that Lincoln also lived in Indiana? And, obviously, in Washington D.C. Why don't their license plates say the same thing?
I was reading tonight in Weird Illinois that Abraham Lincoln was a deep thinker. Sometimes he would be working in his office, and his coworkers would notice him peering off into the distance. Often times it was for several minute stretches, and then, all of a sudden, he would snap out of it. I found it humorous because Abraham Lincoln was a man of great vision and foresight; he was incredibly ambitious. I don't imagine him daydreaming very often, other than for noble & presidential reasons. I felt a lot of hope as I was reading tonight because I find myself doing that same thing sometimes. I'll space out for a few minutes, and then snap back into reality after thinking about something really random for a while. It's quite a relief because I long to be like Lincoln; someone who has a strong work ethic, dependable, and full of follow-through, but I space out so often!
Me and Lincoln. Spacing out is our thing. Or, well, was our thing. We're buds.
Why is it that when we learn of famous peoples' weaknesses, we feel better about ourselves? I mean, entire businesses and industries rely on the humanity of famous people to make money. Think about how many magazines there are at the checkout at grocery stores. And how much paper they waste on stupid stuff! But, it's like a vortex...you get sucked in. Wanna know what's blinking in my brain right now? "Kim Kardashian without make-up or hair done" At first I was like, "For real? You're really gonna go there?" But then I became curious. Luckily, my resistance to the force was strong, and I didn't give in, but a lot of times I do. There is this innate fascination with reality and with people that, I think, we all have.
I'm re-posting a verse. I'm sure I'm breaking some blog rule I don't know about (I warned you, there was a disclaimer; I know no blogging rules), but it's for a good reason. It needs emphasis in my life:
“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? Matthew 6:25-27
I was kind of freaked out because after reflecting upon this verse, I read an article about several thousand birds that died in Arkansas a couple of days ago. The possible cause of death is because of fireworks on New Year's Eve. Isn't that so sad? I started to freak out because it seemed really eerie, and I wondered if it was some sort of sign. It's headlines like this one that do not necessarily suck people in like the Kardashians might, but it's things like this that we can change. And that we should change.
I think about it in the context of looking at birds, which is something that I really enjoy. To really stop and think about the birds. I've seen Canadian Geese, Sparrows, and Black-Capped Chickadees in the last few weeks. No Cardinals. They don't exist. If you see a bird today, stop. Watch it. They never worry about what is going to happen to them two days from now, or two weeks from now, or two months from now, or two years from now. They don't worry. I mean, I'm sure they feel a little stressed out when fireworks are exploding all around them (all the more reason to not use fireworks), but they don't sit and stew in their worry. They live life moment by moment. They take things as they come.
Our heavenly Father takes such good care of his creation, and he invites us to do the same. But, our heavenly Father also takes such good care of us. He knows every intimate detail of my life, down to how many hairs there are on my legs. (Which would be: a lot.) The fireworks fiasco could be a separate illustration for our lives; I mostly needed to clear the air because that story kind of freaked me out. Truly, the fireworks problem entered in because God invites us to take care of his creation as well, and we are not always good stewards. And one might say that sometimes life does throw us a few fireworks, but focusing on how much love the Father has for us in the midst of flying through explosions is a key to a full life. We are valued. The imagery Jesus was painting when he was talking about birds was a very, very good one. He causes us to really ask ourselves, "What is the meaning of my life? What is it's purpose, and how am I fulfilling it? What am I worried about that I shouldn't be?"
In other words, don't freak out, Catherine Ann. Live life moment by moment, and take things as they come, no matter how loud & scary they may seem. And give Jesus the best of what you have because, man, he deserves it. Plus so much more.
And, for the record? I think Jesus loved birds too. It's one of the many reasons I like him. Do you think my friend Lincoln liked birds? Maybe HE picked the non-existent Cardinal of Illinois. Pssh...
I was reading tonight in Weird Illinois that Abraham Lincoln was a deep thinker. Sometimes he would be working in his office, and his coworkers would notice him peering off into the distance. Often times it was for several minute stretches, and then, all of a sudden, he would snap out of it. I found it humorous because Abraham Lincoln was a man of great vision and foresight; he was incredibly ambitious. I don't imagine him daydreaming very often, other than for noble & presidential reasons. I felt a lot of hope as I was reading tonight because I find myself doing that same thing sometimes. I'll space out for a few minutes, and then snap back into reality after thinking about something really random for a while. It's quite a relief because I long to be like Lincoln; someone who has a strong work ethic, dependable, and full of follow-through, but I space out so often!
Me and Lincoln. Spacing out is our thing. Or, well, was our thing. We're buds.
Why is it that when we learn of famous peoples' weaknesses, we feel better about ourselves? I mean, entire businesses and industries rely on the humanity of famous people to make money. Think about how many magazines there are at the checkout at grocery stores. And how much paper they waste on stupid stuff! But, it's like a vortex...you get sucked in. Wanna know what's blinking in my brain right now? "Kim Kardashian without make-up or hair done" At first I was like, "For real? You're really gonna go there?" But then I became curious. Luckily, my resistance to the force was strong, and I didn't give in, but a lot of times I do. There is this innate fascination with reality and with people that, I think, we all have.
I'm re-posting a verse. I'm sure I'm breaking some blog rule I don't know about (I warned you, there was a disclaimer; I know no blogging rules), but it's for a good reason. It needs emphasis in my life:
“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? Matthew 6:25-27
I was kind of freaked out because after reflecting upon this verse, I read an article about several thousand birds that died in Arkansas a couple of days ago. The possible cause of death is because of fireworks on New Year's Eve. Isn't that so sad? I started to freak out because it seemed really eerie, and I wondered if it was some sort of sign. It's headlines like this one that do not necessarily suck people in like the Kardashians might, but it's things like this that we can change. And that we should change.
I think about it in the context of looking at birds, which is something that I really enjoy. To really stop and think about the birds. I've seen Canadian Geese, Sparrows, and Black-Capped Chickadees in the last few weeks. No Cardinals. They don't exist. If you see a bird today, stop. Watch it. They never worry about what is going to happen to them two days from now, or two weeks from now, or two months from now, or two years from now. They don't worry. I mean, I'm sure they feel a little stressed out when fireworks are exploding all around them (all the more reason to not use fireworks), but they don't sit and stew in their worry. They live life moment by moment. They take things as they come.
Our heavenly Father takes such good care of his creation, and he invites us to do the same. But, our heavenly Father also takes such good care of us. He knows every intimate detail of my life, down to how many hairs there are on my legs. (Which would be: a lot.) The fireworks fiasco could be a separate illustration for our lives; I mostly needed to clear the air because that story kind of freaked me out. Truly, the fireworks problem entered in because God invites us to take care of his creation as well, and we are not always good stewards. And one might say that sometimes life does throw us a few fireworks, but focusing on how much love the Father has for us in the midst of flying through explosions is a key to a full life. We are valued. The imagery Jesus was painting when he was talking about birds was a very, very good one. He causes us to really ask ourselves, "What is the meaning of my life? What is it's purpose, and how am I fulfilling it? What am I worried about that I shouldn't be?"
In other words, don't freak out, Catherine Ann. Live life moment by moment, and take things as they come, no matter how loud & scary they may seem. And give Jesus the best of what you have because, man, he deserves it. Plus so much more.
And, for the record? I think Jesus loved birds too. It's one of the many reasons I like him. Do you think my friend Lincoln liked birds? Maybe HE picked the non-existent Cardinal of Illinois. Pssh...
Monday, January 3, 2011
Renewed.
I feel like today was the official start of the new year. This upcoming week will be the first full week of 2011. Can you believe that? It's twenty eleven. I looked over at the column to my right on this blog, and it actually says, "2011", and has little arrows. It's official. I turn 24 this year! It's 2011 and I am so excited!
I'm wide awake right now because of this excitement. It's almost 1:00am. I mean, it's pretty easy to get excited when you are Catie Wollard, so maybe I'm not saying much. I get excited very, very easily. People...puppies...cool-looking peppers at a farmer's market...kale...weird stuff...it's exciting. I can't stop thinking about how I get to go to the library tomorrow to renew my books, and find more movies to rot my brain. EXCITING! (Right now I'm reading too many books, and watching too many movies. Gulp. Stock Investing for Dummies, The Scientists, The Four Loves, and Love Soup are the books on the menu. Love Soup is literally on the menu because it's a cookbook. Vegetarian soups to be exact. I'll probably put chicken in some of them though. Poor little chickens. I'm not even going to list movies because I'm too embarrassed about how many I've watched in the last 48 hours. Food, Inc. was one of them. I've seen it three times. Look it up if you haven't.)
Anyway. I'm mostly excited because I feel like this excitement will not be short-lived. My faith is stronger than it was at this time last year. Faith is one of those words that I've always shied away from. (Shied is a funny word too. Shy to shied. Weird.) Faith is a word that is over-used in our society, in my opinion. Like, "just have faith", or "Believe in yourself". Little do you know that I'm referencing the parents that are trying to get their kids to believe in Santa Claus, even though their babysitter told them he isn't real. I mean, watch Miracle on 34th St., and try not to believe in Santa. "Faith" lost its meaning for me. Belief isn't enough for me.
At this time, one year ago, I was jumping back into my student teaching experience (like, tomorrow...) and I was petrified. I was to be faced with the end of an incredible, but extremely confusing experience called "student teaching", I was to find my "first job", and enter into "adulthood". Everybody has been there. I was there though. I was there. What did "those things" even mean?!? And there was petrification involved. An encouraging birth family, an encouraging house family, and a new, encouraging church family had faith in me. My supervisor, my colleagues, my friends. There was faithage abound. It was leaking, like tears from the Grinch. But I was the one with weak and little faith.
Six times Jesus "wonders" aloud why his disciples have such little faith, with questions like, “You of little faith, why are you so afraid?” Jesus asks us good questions. This one comes during a storm. The disciples are freaking out because Jesus is asleep, and their boat is being tossed around like olives in a salad. I mean, I'd be scared. I'm afraid of sharks, man! I find it quite interesting that five of those six references are in the book of Matthew. He and I have a lot in common. Maybe he was finishing up his "fisherman's teaching" at that time. Who knows.
This year I feel a sense of hope that I found myself lacking last year. A renewed sense of peace, and real faith. We talked about faith this morning at church. I found myself wheeling away with so much to think about, so many things to reflect upon. The pastor (his name is Justin), said that, "Faith is belief enough to cause appropriate response." The sermon was centered around Romans 12. Here is the start the chapter:
"Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will."
What a verse. And what a way to start 2011.
My responses do not always reflect my belief, but this is changing. I have had little faith, but this is changing. I say (think sing) things like: "Where you lead me, I will follow", "I will go where you want me to", or "Jesus, you are my King", and then when the rubber hits the road, I shrink back like a Lord of the Rings Orc encountering Aragorn and his glowing, crazylong Elfish sword. But this is changing.
You see, I'm still learning the "in view of God's mercy part." I am still learning what it means & looks like & feels like & smells like to follow Jesus. But I am being transformed. Renewed. My mind needs renewal everyday. It receives renewal every day when I choose to live as Jesus lived: completely reliant on the Father. It's a daily choice. I live and breathe by his words, and I long to to be a living sacrifice (even if that does sound kind of creepy. Don't think Indiana Jones & the ripping out of a certain beating heart sacrifice. Maybe not floating flowers with candles in Asian countries sacrifice either... Think: something valuable & beautiful, and given in an open, honest love. Sacrificially.)
“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? -Jesus
I'm wide awake right now because of this excitement. It's almost 1:00am. I mean, it's pretty easy to get excited when you are Catie Wollard, so maybe I'm not saying much. I get excited very, very easily. People...puppies...cool-looking peppers at a farmer's market...kale...weird stuff...it's exciting. I can't stop thinking about how I get to go to the library tomorrow to renew my books, and find more movies to rot my brain. EXCITING! (Right now I'm reading too many books, and watching too many movies. Gulp. Stock Investing for Dummies, The Scientists, The Four Loves, and Love Soup are the books on the menu. Love Soup is literally on the menu because it's a cookbook. Vegetarian soups to be exact. I'll probably put chicken in some of them though. Poor little chickens. I'm not even going to list movies because I'm too embarrassed about how many I've watched in the last 48 hours. Food, Inc. was one of them. I've seen it three times. Look it up if you haven't.)
Anyway. I'm mostly excited because I feel like this excitement will not be short-lived. My faith is stronger than it was at this time last year. Faith is one of those words that I've always shied away from. (Shied is a funny word too. Shy to shied. Weird.) Faith is a word that is over-used in our society, in my opinion. Like, "just have faith", or "Believe in yourself". Little do you know that I'm referencing the parents that are trying to get their kids to believe in Santa Claus, even though their babysitter told them he isn't real. I mean, watch Miracle on 34th St., and try not to believe in Santa. "Faith" lost its meaning for me. Belief isn't enough for me.
At this time, one year ago, I was jumping back into my student teaching experience (like, tomorrow...) and I was petrified. I was to be faced with the end of an incredible, but extremely confusing experience called "student teaching", I was to find my "first job", and enter into "adulthood". Everybody has been there. I was there though. I was there. What did "those things" even mean?!? And there was petrification involved. An encouraging birth family, an encouraging house family, and a new, encouraging church family had faith in me. My supervisor, my colleagues, my friends. There was faithage abound. It was leaking, like tears from the Grinch. But I was the one with weak and little faith.
Six times Jesus "wonders" aloud why his disciples have such little faith, with questions like, “You of little faith, why are you so afraid?” Jesus asks us good questions. This one comes during a storm. The disciples are freaking out because Jesus is asleep, and their boat is being tossed around like olives in a salad. I mean, I'd be scared. I'm afraid of sharks, man! I find it quite interesting that five of those six references are in the book of Matthew. He and I have a lot in common. Maybe he was finishing up his "fisherman's teaching" at that time. Who knows.
This year I feel a sense of hope that I found myself lacking last year. A renewed sense of peace, and real faith. We talked about faith this morning at church. I found myself wheeling away with so much to think about, so many things to reflect upon. The pastor (his name is Justin), said that, "Faith is belief enough to cause appropriate response." The sermon was centered around Romans 12. Here is the start the chapter:
"Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will."
What a verse. And what a way to start 2011.
My responses do not always reflect my belief, but this is changing. I have had little faith, but this is changing. I say (think sing) things like: "Where you lead me, I will follow", "I will go where you want me to", or "Jesus, you are my King", and then when the rubber hits the road, I shrink back like a Lord of the Rings Orc encountering Aragorn and his glowing, crazylong Elfish sword. But this is changing.
You see, I'm still learning the "in view of God's mercy part." I am still learning what it means & looks like & feels like & smells like to follow Jesus. But I am being transformed. Renewed. My mind needs renewal everyday. It receives renewal every day when I choose to live as Jesus lived: completely reliant on the Father. It's a daily choice. I live and breathe by his words, and I long to to be a living sacrifice (even if that does sound kind of creepy. Don't think Indiana Jones & the ripping out of a certain beating heart sacrifice. Maybe not floating flowers with candles in Asian countries sacrifice either... Think: something valuable & beautiful, and given in an open, honest love. Sacrificially.)
“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? -Jesus
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Itchy.
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. : )
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. : )
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.
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