Community.

I want to apologize for my snarky comments about snow yesterday.  I realized this afternoon that I was a little bit bitter about the fact that I can't go out and play in it.  When I looked out into our backyard this morning and saw the five-foot drift (no joke) against our fence, I so longed to just dig a huge hole into it for a snow fort.  Building snow forts is something I will never be too old for, and I have to admit my sadness at not being able to do it yet.

One of the things that I did, however, get to enjoy about the snow today was watching my family, and our neighbors work together.  It was on the news even - (not my family, but) a large population of people helping one another with the massive amounts of snow.  It brought a sense of community, and a way for people to serve one another.  It was cool to see in action.  There were three or four teens out front helping my parents dig out of the snow, and move it from one place to the next.  It was cool to see.

There is this small group series called "Doing Life Together", and whenever I think of the idea of community, I think of that - doing life together.  Community is kind of a buzz word right now - what does it really mean?  What does it mean to do life with other people?  In my mind, it starts with the people that immediately surround us, the people that we encounter regularly, the people that we brush shoulders with.  How we treat them, and how we bless them, and how we respond to them - those are the things that draw me to other people, and the things I want to be better at doing.  What I have learned is that power really lies in the day-to-day interactions.  For example, the willingness to take an extra 15 minutes to help shovel someone's driveway, or taking time to really listen after asking someone, "How are you?" 

When I was living in Milwaukee with a wonderful family that is committed to living in community, one of the things I was most challenged by was doing the dishes.  It's so funny because everyone thinks that communal living is this grandiose thing, but no one ever wants to do the dishes.  Living in community is quite simple: think often of others, and live generously & simply.  Like Jesus.

There is an amazing number of ways to bless people around you, right?  Doing the dishes without being asked, making meal for others in a busy week, listening well, no matter how busy you are, praying for others, giving up that really great parking space, sending a letter just because you love someone, smiling at the grumpy checkout person...these things are a great start, right?  But choosing those things sometimes becomes difficult for me because I'm so focused on myself, my schedule, my routine, my lack of routine...it's amazing how distracted I can become.  How self-focused I can be. 

The word "together" is mentioned 387 times in the Bible, according to my good friend BibleGateway.com.  I just think that that fact is such a tribute to how God designed us to live: together.  I'm thankful that by being surrounded by others, I become less focused on myself.  I'm thankful that God has placed so many encouraging people in my life.  I'm thankful for my neighbors and their willingness to serve.  I'm thankful that one gigantic snowstorm can bring the word "community" to fruition. 

Puzzle.

My mom and I worked ferociously on a puzzle this evening.  Water Lilies I by Claude Monet.  Pretty artsy fartsy if you ask me - I love it.  I never really realized how much this painting influenced the home color choices of most homes in the nineties.  Teal, pink, gray, and green baby.  It's where it's at.

Anyway, I kept laughing because my dogs kept sniffing and sniffing at the puzzle pieces.  I tell you, they eye each piece up for a snack.  What is it about bite-size pieces of paper?  I have six pieces missing in my bird puzzle that I just finished - there were eight missing until I (and by "I", I mean my mom) found two semi-chewed up pieces under the couch.  Those dogs.  I was so mad at them for, like, a week.  I've moved on now, and I decided to puzzle-glue my puzzle anyway.  I'm gonna frame it even though it has holes.  I think it gives it character.  See:

Of course you have to look hard in the picture.  Go figure.

You can tell in real life.  Trust me.  You can tell.

I bet right about now you are surprised I'm not talking about the snow outside, and you may even be thinking about how dorky I am to be working on so many puzzles.  Well, friend.  Snow is snow.  It's going to turn to the color of poop in 1.65 weeks, and in four, it will melt away.  That's what snow does.  And, as far as the puzzle-mania goes, I'm still in a wheelchair, in case you didn't know.  Puzzles are fun, they work your brain, and they teach you about life.  "What?", you ask?   Yes.  They teach you about life.  I suppose snow teaches you about life too, but I'm going with puzzles tonight.

You see, I have had the opportunity to work on many a puzzle in the last couple of months, and I have learned a lot about myself in the process.  I have learned about how quickly I give up on something.  When the going got tough in the midst of that puzzle, I start getting really frustrated, and talking negatively.  "Oh my gosh.  Did they make this piece right?  Ugh.  This is so stupid, I can't believe I'm wasting my time on this.  Why won't you guys help me with this dumb thing?!  DOGS!  Get AWAY!"  Then I would find a piece, and it urged me forward.  It's ridiculous, but I'm pretty sure I do that in real life too.  I also learning that I'm really not okay with something being open-ended.  I thought I was, but I wanted to finish the puzzle immediately.  In my mind that thing was going to take me five hours, tops.  Well.  That bird puzzle?  It took me a good 25 hours to complete.  There was no rushing it.  And I worked really hard to protect it.  It's a picture on top of paper for goodness sakes!  But I had a goal in mind, and I was going to get that puppy done.  Until my puppy ate one.

Then I was mad.

It turned everything upside down!  I was mad because I had invested so much time into something, and in one little chomp, my expectations about what the puzzle was going to look like were ruined.  I couldn't find the piece, first of all, and I spend a lot of time looking and looking for it.  It wasn't there!  So I kept going, and sure enough, it had magically disappeared.  To make matters worse, there wasn't even any nutritional value for the dog!  My choices were either to stop working on it or keep on going in the hopes of finishing.

This is an illustration for my life.  Not just in the breaking of my legs part, but the breaking of my expectations.  I have talked a little bit about the pain I've endured (which is so minute compared to so many other people) within the last year, specifically with teaching.  But only a little bit because I'm still processing it, amazingly enough.  And I have nothing to complain about.  I wouldn't change a thing.  Seriously.  I have an overwhelming amount to be thankful for, and I try to express that to God.  I start to get frustrated when I lose sight of the big picture, when I lose focus on Who I'm living for.  I had/have expectations for my life, and I didn't realize how much pressure I had put on myself for so long.  The puzzle showed me!  I want to to finish fast.  To not get frustrated.  To not fail.  To do well, and to do well the first time.  To have a beautiful finished project.  Notice any similarities between a certain puzzle and a certain you know who?

My life is so full of missing little gaps, and chewed up pieces.  I've tried so hard to fit them together, look for different patterns, move pieces around that were pushing others out.  As I work, I stand back and look at the big picture.  So much of it is incomplete, and for some reason, that irks me.  But you know what?  It causes me to look into the face of my Father.  And to stand back, and just be still.  Be in awe.  It's so hard for me to find the beauty in a puzzle with so many missing pieces.

What I'm most thankful for is that God is so gentle with me.
He is such a loving dad.
He knows what I need before I even take inventory.

Jesus says in Matthew 11:29:  "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."

The God that sees the intricate design of each snowflake that fell today, and the ones that are yet to fall - the ones broken by a gust of wind, or melted from the body heat of a girl wheeling into a health clinic, or melted by someone who is freezing cold tonight, the flakes piled up in a gigantic massive mound somewhere in the Midwest right now (the four-foot pile against my house) - he sees each of those flakes.  And how much more are his people worth than flakes?  You are worth infinitely more than flakes, friend.  I have to tell myself that all the time: "You are worth so much more than flakes, Catie."  (Maybe I will sneak some snow in... : )

Because I can't get over the fact that I'm invited in.  Into his presence.  Into his plan.  Into his embrace.  That I can learn from him, that I'm allowed to see things through His lens - it's overwhelmingly wonderful.  He just envelops me with his arms, and with his light & warmth.  He is so gentle with me.  I can't tell you how often I come to him at my wits end because I'm so frustrated.  Because I'm just mad.  Because I don't understand.  Because the pieces aren't fitting where I want them to go.  And that's not say that I don't come to him in thanksgiving or in worship or in joy - that's is so important as well.

What I'm contemplating tonight is the fact that even though so many pieces are still vacant in my life because of the steps (literally and figuratively) I haven't taken yet, he knows what the big picture is going to look like.  I still have to take the steps, and sometimes that is in and of itself what trips me up.  But I can find rest because He was the artist at the very beginning; his design never fails.

Proof.

 

Today was bath day.

Ugh.  I dislike bath day.

And yet I love it at the same time.

Do you see how many stairs I have climb? 

On my butt?!

And I'm shooing dogs off of me the whole way up.

Man.  I'm pooped.

As such, I've decided that tonight's entry will be a picture story.  Plus, my internet connection is only quasi-connecting, so I'm gonna have to wrap this story up real soon.  Maybe it has something to do with the "Snowmaggedden" that's about to hit my city.  What a stupid name for a snow storm.  Really?  Really?  It's like people have never seen snow before!  Geez.  Anyway.  Below is a before and after of my legs.  I think it's kind of weird that I'm posting a picture of my legs on the internet, hairy ones at that.  On a website open to the public.  But, apparently, people want some proof.  I'll give you proof.

Man legs. 

                          

Not man legs.

 

See?  Told you it was real.  When I first looked at them I felt like singing "My Chains are Gone" by Chris Tomlin...  "My hairs are goooooone, I've been set free, my new pink razor rescued meeee."  Not to mock a really great song.  I'll show you the real lyrics.  They mean exponentially more to me.  The song is "Amazing Grace", but with a chorus, and the chorus goes like this:

"My chains are gone, I've been set free.

My God, my Savior has ransomed me!

And like a flood, his mercy reigns.

Unending love, amazing grace."

It's pretty funny because something as stupid as shaving continues to remind me of new beginnings, and the amazing grace that my God has given me.  I'm so thankful that he has set me free from the chains that the world put on me, and the chains I put on myself. 

That's my story, and I'm stickin' to it.

Kids.

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

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

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

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

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

 

It's from a three-year old.   

(My other favorite is also from a three-year-old. 

Green one, top right, with the puffy balls.)

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

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

I'm a CHICKEN, I tell you!

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

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

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

Focus.

Or, if you are more scientifically minded:

That is your daily dose of sunshine.

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

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

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

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

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

They do the bidding of God with no questions asked.

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

Shaving.

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

I shaved my legs. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sleep well, dear ones!

Body.

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

: )

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

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

(Info taken from:

http://health.howstuffworks.com/human-body/systems/musculoskeletal/heal-broken-bones1.htm

Go there if you want to read exactly how bones heal.  It's cool stuff.)

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

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

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

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

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

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