About Me

Hey there! I'm a twenty-three year old Jesus follower, and this blog is to record all of the goings-on in my life within the next months. I recently broke both of my legs, and feel God leading me to tell my story - a story of redemption and grace, of hope and pain, of excitment and fear. May you be deeply blessed as you read. Shalom!

Saturday, March 5, 2011

Help.

I just read it. 

I did.  I read the book that's been on my shelf for over four months.  Choosing To See, by Mary Beth Chapman.  If you haven't heard the story yet, you should watch some of it at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AgbnjE20vs0

I don't really listen to Steven Curtis Chapman's music very often, but he is a very famous Christian song-writer.  A little over two years ago, his daughter, Maria, was killed in a car accident in her driveway.  Her brother (who was not on his cell phone, and not driving fast), accidentally hit her while he was pulling into their house.

I can't imagine what it would feel like to lose a daughter/sister, let alone in seconds.  I remember my friend Bowgirl calling me, and telling me about the accident & what had happened to the Chapman family.  I couldn't believe it.  I remember praying so fervently for them, and wondering why.  Why would God would allow it to happen?  So when I was given this book a few months ago, I set it on the shelf to save "for later", mostly because I knew I couldn't handle the emotions of reading it & digesting it while I was trying to wrestle with so many of my own.  I decided that today would be the day. 

I'm glad it was, but now I'm pretty speechless.  I mean, there's a lot running through my brain.  I can in no way compare what happened to me to the loss of the Chapman family, but there are elements in Mary Beth's book that I find myself drawn to. 

I have striven for honesty in this blog, but I was blown away by hers.  I've kind of shared a little bit about how I've been feeling this transition into a new phase of my journey, almost as if this "leg" is coming to an end.  What I've been trying to tell myself over the last few months, (that the next months are going to be even more challenging for me), is actually starting to sink in.  And it hurts.  I'm so close to walking again I can taste it, but, yet, I look up and the mountain I have to climb seems so big.

My wonderful God has given me so much strength throughout this journey.  It has hurt, and it has been painful, and it has been wonderful all at the same time.  He has taught me humility.  What it means to be a friend, and have friendship.  What it means to serve sacrificially.  What it means to suffer well.  I could go on and on and on and on and on.  He deserves so much glory!  SO much!  It belongs to him alone, for I could never have made it this far without him.

"[Praise to the LORD] LORD, you are my God; I will exalt you and praise your name, for in perfect faithfulness you have done wonderful things, things planned long ago!!"  -Isaiah 25:1 (emphasis added)

In the midst of it all, I find that I'm encountering emotions and feelings that I haven't felt before, and reading this book was like opening a floodgate in my heart.  Please pray for me; I so covet your prayers.  Pray that the voice of the accuser would be stifled, and that the voice of Truth would continue to speak loud and clear.  I desperately need his help.

"We wait in hope for the LORD;
   he is our help and our shield.
In him our hearts rejoice,
   for we trust in his holy name."

-Psalm 33:20 &21

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Music.

I love music.  So so much.

I realized today, while I was watching my baby sisters play in their band concert, how much I miss singing in a choir.  There is so much to be said for singing in a unified group of people, and it has been such a long time since I have been able to do it.  I mean, I hardly sing at all these days.  I feel like I sing in my heart and in my head, but my vocal chords never jump in on the action.  They are on sabbatical with my legs, apparently.

Anyway, I felt so honored to be able to watch the twins play tonight, and I continue (even STILL!) to count the ways in which I have been blessed by my time at home. 

I know I've shared this verse before, but it's one of my favorites:

Psalm 57:7&8

"My heart, O God, is steadfast,
   my heart is steadfast;
   I will sing and make music.
Awake, my soul!
   Awake, harp and lyre!
   I will awaken the dawn."

Wheelchair.

I was talking to a woman at my church last Sunday who had hip replacement surgery a few weeks ago.  She looks great, and is healing well.  We got to talking about the healing process though, and she said that she felt like she had been taking leaps and bounds, but then soon after was having to slow down and take a step back.

This is how I feel tonight.

I twisted my leg in a funny position about a week ago, and then the magical orange bump appeared in my leg a couple of days later.  You know the story.  The swelling is gone now, but the pain is still there, and it's making me nervous.  

Then, my wheelchair was returned to Walgreens today, (yes Walgreens rents wheelchairs), and I'm not sure how I feel about it.  You'd think that with me driving yesterday, and walking in a shoe for a while would bring me some sense of comfort, but they don't.  I'm feeling a little nervous about where my feet & legs are in the healing process today.  Tonight I'm asking questions like, "Is the bone stimulator going to work?  Is there a reason the tendon in my right leg hurts?  Why don't the scars look better?  Did I do something to them?  Are the weird bumps on the bottom of my left foot going to go away?"  Steps back from my optimism yesterday.

It's hard to take steps backwards, isn't it?  It is for me.  Especially because I love shortcuts and normalcuts and not thelongwayaroundcuts.  For instance: teaching.  I have been reflecting a lot lately on my student teaching/subbing experience, partly because I'm starting to think about where I'm going to work when I head back to Milwaukee.  It makes me really nervous.  It's also partly because I feel like I've had to take steps backward as far as the expectations for myself & for my jobs go, even before I fell.  That's more figurative, I guess. 

Literally speaking, I've been thinking about what it's going to mean to stand on my feet all day at work now, and to feel the results of that at the end of the day.  How am I going to sit down and get up like I did before?  Am I going to be able to crouch down to talk to kids?  Will the school I was working at even take me back, knowing that I have sustained such an extensive injury?  Then, I start worrying about my actual ability to teach.  My confidence level wasn't very high coming out of student teaching, and now I feel so out-of-practice.  Will the classroom feel foreign now?  What do I do next?  What if I'm not able to work this Spring at all?  Or Summer?  Or Fall?  What if none of my plans go like I think they will?

The returning of my silly wheelchair is what started all the questions.  I can see now that they have spun out of control.  (I really was sad to say goodbye to that thing.  It helped me so much in the last months - I have a lot of memories in it.)  I think what really scares me is that now there is no turning back.  Literally and figuratively. 

Anyway.  Enough what-ifs for the night.  God is sovereign.  He has gotten me this far, and his hands have brought me back to his gaze time and time again.  As long as my eyes are there, I will not worry.

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
   neither are your ways my ways,”
            declares the LORD.
“As the heavens are higher than the earth,
   so are my ways higher than your ways
   and my thoughts than your thoughts..."

Phew. 

"You will go out in joy
   and be led forth in peace;
the mountains and hills
   will burst into song before you,
and all the trees of the field
   will clap their hands."

 Isaiah 55:8, 9, & 12

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

The End.

I have officially arrived at the tail-end of the journey.  Wanna know how I know?

I DROVE TODAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!

First time in four months.  I'm pretty sure I haven't felt that way since the first time I rode in my car by myself - windows down & music blaring.  Just don't tell my doctor.  Apparently, there could be an issue with my ability to slam on the brakes, but I think all systems are go.  My mom whipped into the church parking lot and let me do a little test run, so you don't have to freak out or anything.  She's a smart lady.  Pretty sure she wouldn't let me do anything too stupid.  It's like riding a bike.  It came back pretty easily.  Talk about new beginnings.

We got home after a short 500-foot stint (the church is right across the street from my house), and I just looked at her while we sat in the driveway.  The end is near.  Not the end, the end, but the kind of end where the light at the end of the tunnel gets really bright.  Just to clarify.

Later, after she & I had dropped my sister off at her violin lessons, I piped up (like any eager 15 or 16 year-old...I have no shame) and said, "Hey!  Can I drive?"  "Sure!", was the reply.  So I hobbled into the driver's seat, and put her to D.  (You should see my mad skillz with the e-brake...I use my right foot to unlock it & it has to be funny to watch.)  I got going down a busy four-lane street, and I started getting nervous.  "Is this really like riding a bike?  I mean, I'm pretty sure bikes don't weigh a ton."  The my mom tried to calmly question: "Why are you hugging the curb so close?  Catie, you need to get over.  Do you always hug the curb like that?  Catie, you really should give them some space.  Allow for space, Cate.  GIVE THEM SOME SPACE." 

*gasp*!!!

Just kidding. 

It brought back so many memories.  Except this time I felt equipped with humility, and just said, "Okay.  You got it, mommy-o."  Just like that.  I got into the middle, and I gave them some space.  No sarcasm, no snarky or snide remarks.  Eventually, we made it to Target, where everyone did a double take...  "Did that girl just get out of the driver's seat with crutches?"

Why, yes, she did. 

Little do they know that my right foot works.  And that it can drive. 

: )

Monday, February 28, 2011

Circles.

I spent the night with my grandma last night (super fun), and I woke up this morning wondering where I was.  I know that this happens to everybody; you wake up in a place you don't normally sleep, in a sleepy stupor, and that's the first thing you think, "Huh?  Where am I?"  Then you realize, "Oh yeah. I'm _____." 

I sort of feel that same way about the fact that it is the last day of February.  It has officially been four months since I first began this journey in my life, and I can't believe it has been that long.  Four months!?  Part of me wonders where the heck time has gone, and part of me feels like, "Man, I can't wait to walk normally again."

Although, I do have to say that, and I'm happy to report, that the crutches and I have a much better working relationship.  It was definitely touch and go; I wasn't sure that we could be together much longer.  The best part is that I woke up this morning, strapped on my boots, (did not have to climb down any stairs!), and I started cracking up as I hobbled into the living room.  When I walk, I look down to make sure that where I plant my crutches isn't going to be someplace wet, wobbly, or worrisome; this morning as I looked down, I noticed a few circles in the carpet.  Then, as I worked my way closer to the living room I noticed a few more.  Then a few more.  I stopped, and I realized that there were circles EVERYWHERE in my grandmother's carpet.  They are from the bottom of my crutches!  Dozens and dozens of little imprints of where I had been the night before.  Apparently, everywhere. : )

As we were riding to the house last night on the way home from my sister's concert, my dad was showing me pictures of when they first got to the hospital to see me.  They were pictures that I hadn't seen yet, and I couldn't even believe what I saw.  More circles.  More reminders of where I started this crazy journey.  It's still so surreal to me that I broke my legs four months ago today.  What months they have been. 

"He has caused his wonders to be remembered; the LORD is gracious and compassionate."  -Psalm 111:4

Sunday, February 27, 2011

Discipline.

Discipline is a word that I don't like.  And at the same time I do.  (I find it cool that the word "disciple" is tied quite closely to discipline.)  I'm not very disciplined in certain areas of my life, and I don't like that.  Therefore, I don't always like discipline.  The problem is that the Bible says that God disciplines those he loves.  This is, ultimately, a really great thing because God shapes us and changes us and molds us and makes us into new people.  But it doesn't always feel good.

There is this weird muscle in my leg that's growing back in the shape of a giant grapefruit.  It's bizarre - it literally looks like there is a piece of fruit inside of my leg.  It's mostly just swollen because, "Like, whoa, there's something, like, standing on me now."  And apparently my right leg is from California.  My left one is from Minnesota.

I was reminded this evening of what it means to endure hardships.  They come in every single shape and size - conversations that are hard to have, thoughts to be tamed, people that we have a hard time understanding, physical & emotional pain, hurting hearts, broken bones, mending muscles.  You name it.  But we are called to endure those hardships, not just pretend like they aren't there, or hide from them with our heads in the sand.  Or, like me, whine about them until they go away.  Or peppermint Jo-Jo's magically appear.  We are called to strength.  A strength that can only be found in Jesus. 

I found this verse by accident tonight, but I found it quite fitting for my flabby little legs.

"Therefore, strengthen your feeble arms and weak knees." -Hebrews 12:12

Flabby little legs, don't give up.
Friends, don't give up.  It's so worth it.

A song for the road.  Or for your head while you are in bed...

Consuming Fire

There must be more than this,
O breath of God come breathe within,
There must be more than this,
Spirit of God we wait for You.

Fill us anew we pray.

Consuming fire fan into flame,
A passion for Your Name,
Spirit of God would You fall in this place,
Lord have Your way,
Lord have Your way with us.

Come like a rushing wind,
Clothe us with power from on high,
Now set the captives free,
Leave us abandoned to Your praise.

Lord let Your glory fall.

Stir it up in our hearts Lord,
A passion for Your Name.

Friday, February 25, 2011

Pool.

Yesterday was officially my first day of aquatic therapy!  I'll summarize it for you in six sentences:

1. I looked (and felt) like a three year old on noodles.


 2.  I got into the pool on a super-scary & super-wobbly lift.


3.  I walked on my left leg for the first time without a boot.


(Yes, it felt really weird, and I walked like a penguin.)

4.  I did, in fact, doggie paddle.


5.  I am really sore today.


(Warning: NEVER type "sore" into Google.)

6.  My wheelchair was sad that it couldn't get in too.