Overdue.

I stopped by the W.A. Library to pay my library fines.  Don't ask me how I remembered the fact that I owed money to the library for six months, but I knew.  In the back of my head, I knew it was under five bucks, but part of me wondered if it was an obscene amount...like the 30 I had to pay for late movies.  Don't rent movies from the library if you ever forget anything.  Ever.

This week has been full of little things like that.  Paying library fines, hanging pictures up on my wall with little 3M strips, calling my old workplace, grocery shopping... Some people call it "settling in", but I don't like to use the word "settle" because I don't want it to seem like I'm just settling.  For this house, for Milwaukee, or just nestling down into a giant pile of sticks and straw.  Does that make sense?  I'm not settling.  Snuggling into my giant nest is what I've been doing for the last six months, and I'm quite ready to migrate across the Atlantic Ocean, if you know what I mean.  Technically speaking, I'm gearing up for the next three weeks/three months, and they're gonna be huge.  Maybe that's why my body has decided to pack on a few pounds...you know, for the figurative "winter flight", if you will.

My blog post is also way over-due, and I apologize to those of you who had asked me how my doctor's appointment went.  Here's how the visit went down:  I got there (by myself!) 12 minutes late because I forgot to account for the fact that I always always always get lost in this area.  And I forgot about the the fact that I now move at the pace of a turtle.  I knew that going into it, but for some reason I just forgot to live it out as I was planning my time allotment.  (Major mind adjustments have to made, my friends.  Major adjustments.  I'm a last-minute type of girl, and this pace might be the end of me.)

I got there and apologized to the secretary for being late (shouldn't have opened my mouth), and she was like, "Oh, well Dr. Marks is very picky about his patients being on time...how late are you?"

*sheepishy* "Well, about 15 minutes."

"Oh, that's okay, you should be fine."

Thank goodness.

I was able to hop right up onto the x-ray stairs (which was a big deal), and didn't have to have any re-takes (also a big deal).  Got into his office, and his assistant came in to chat.  Apparently, arthritis can kick in any day now, which I didn't realize.  My left foot is especially at risk, but my right one is too, which I also didn't realize.  So, that was iffy news, but I'm not that worried about it.  What will come will come, and I am going to try to live my life to the fullest in the meantime.

As a side note, I think it is really easy for me to fall into the thinking trap of only living my life until the arthritis comes.  Like I have to wait for it to get here.  But that's a lie.  I am SO thankful that I am able to be up and walking around, and I can't live in fear of future pain.  I think that is such a huge life lesson for me.  Don't live in fear of future pain.

The doc came in a little bit later, and had nothing but good things to say about how things are healing.  I no longer have to use the bone stim, and I am out of my boot!!  Whoot whoot!  My new walking contraption looks like this:

Pretty sweet, huh?  I think it's a little quasi-Forest Gump, but whatev.  It works.

Here's the best part of the entire day.  So, right before Superman walks out of the office, he turns and he says to me, "You know, Catie, your bones should not look this good."

I had nothing to say at first.  It wasn't me.  I was not the one that expertly knit my bones back together, or designed the human body for the capacity to send cells to repair broken things.  All I could say to him was thank you for doing such an amazing job on helping my body to heal to the best of its ability, and give God the credit for doing the healing work.

Man.  I took the elevator downstairs, and just started sobbing as I was walking out of the hospital.  I saw glimpses of what had happened in the same exact steps and spaces in the last six months:  I saw my dad walking beside me as I tried to figure out how to use crutches, and then I saw him farting around with them while we waited for our van, trying to make me feel better about feeling like an oaf.  Then I saw my feet up in the air on the wheelchair, my gigantic toes purple and swollen.  I remembered when I had to pee so bad, and they had to lift me onto the toilet.  I felt my mom pushing me out the door into the chilly air, and I saw them both lifting me up into our van.  I remember wondering what my life was going to be like after I was up and walking again.

And there I was.  Walking out of the hospital.  By myself.

As I was waiting for the nice valet men to bring my car around, a woman started talking to me about her injuries.  She had gone through chemotherapy several years back, and as a result, her bones were very fragile; as a result, she had broken several of them in strange, little accidents.  She was in a lot of pain, and she struggled just to stand.  She had two walking sticks with her, and really sweet old-people shades covering her eyes and streaky auburn hair.  As we were talking about what things that she had gone through, and things she was about to go through, she said something along the lines of, "That is what life is about.  Living it to the full."

I could not have agreed with her more.

Continue.

Night two in Milwaukee.  I wish I could concoct some sort of nighttime National Geographic scene like the amazing Steve Erwin, but my imagination is asleep.  My eyes will be momentarily.  My imagination was well-spent today though with a pretty energetic three-year-old named HJ.  I missed her cherub cheeks and crazy-bright blue eyes.

I am so thankful for another warm bed, gas in my tank, food in my fridge, and clothes in my closet.  God has provided so much for me, and I do not take it lightly.  I say this all the time, but I will not stop saying it; God has been good to me.  What I am most thankful for is a family that misses me, and one that is glad to have me back.  My house family always helps me carry all of my junk in without making me feel bad, and my genetic family carried it out without making me feel bad.  I am deeply, deeply blessed.

Tomorrow will be my first doctor's appointment in two months.  Yup.  I'm pretty nervous.  Hopefully, I'll get the go-ahead for shoe-wearing on my left foot, and I'll officially be in business.  The walking business, that is.

I have been thinking about this verse all week:

"Yet the LORD longs to be gracious to you;
   therefore he will rise up to show you compassion.
For the LORD is a God of justice.
   Blessed are all who wait for him!"
- Isaiah 30:18

Lord, I thank you for your grace, your compassion, your justice, and your timing.  They are each perfect.  Thank you for teaching day by day, hour by hour.  Thank you for extending yourself to me, a Gentile.  Help us to continue to wait on you.  Amen.

Official.

Today is officially April 30th. 
Kate Middleton and Price William are officially married.
I watched.  And I have no shame.

So, because it is the last day in April, it has officially been six months since I broke my fibula, my tibia, and my talus.  Tonight is officially my last night as a resident of both my household and my state.  Illinois, you have been good to me.  Family, so have you.

I officially graduated from physical therapy.  It was my last appointment with Superwoman; I'm going to miss her and that office.  And the pool.

When Moses was freaking out about being sent back to Egypt to, well, basically take all of its free labor away from his sort-of brother:

"God got angry with Moses: "Don't you have a brother, Aaron the Levite? He's good with words, I know he is. He speaks very well. In fact, at this very moment he's on his way to meet you. When he sees you he's going to be glad. You'll speak to him and tell him what to say.

I'll be right there with you as you speak and with him as he speaks, teaching you step by step..."

I love that.  Step by step.  On top of teaching me step by step, I feel like God has actually stepped in for me over the last sixth months; none of what has been accomplished has been of my own ability, attitude, or desire.  It is his disposition that became mine.  He has been so good to me.  Titus 3:3 says,

"But when God, our kind and loving Savior God, stepped in, he saved us from all that.  It was all his doing; we had nothing to do with it."

God is officially good.

Small.

I am writing obscenely late this evening because I came waltzing into my home around 11:30pm...the latest I've been out in about a year.  Which is freaky.  Anyway, I spent the evening in the home of, we'll call them, the Dan & Cole Berto.  My small group spent time together in their house, and I was so blessed by the fact that, at the end, they all stopped to pray for me.

Can I just say what a blessing it is to be a part of the God's community?  I mean, not to go into church-pushing mode, but if you aren't a part of some sort of small group of people that know you and that encourage you on your journey with God, know that I am praying for you.  One, that you. would want such a thing, and that two, you can find such a thing.  It is, unfortunately, very rare.  I feel so privileged to have rubbed shoulders with so many young adults that love Jesus, and that want to know him more.

Sometimes I think that expect God to show himself to me in some "big" way.  As a human, I get wrapped up in mysticism and emotion.  That's why I love reading some of my old entries, and recounting things that I have seen; God moves in the small, humble moments.  It is there that we learn the most, and it is there that we become more like him.  I want to encounter God in those small, day by day, often really unexpected & sometimes invisible moments. I desire a greater sensitivity to his voice & to his movement, but I long to be strong of heart and of mind.  I need vision, yet I need humility.  God, please make me small.

Have you ever heard the prayer, "Lord may you increase, and may I decrease"?

I love it. 

Tomorrow.

Is a new day.

Jesus, thank you.

Sigh.

I never realized how much I sigh until someone recently pointed it out to me.  I was first made aware of this strange pattern in my breathing when it was eerily quiet during my driver's test (ahem...8 years ago) and all I could think of was to sigh.  Ever since then I have done a good deal of it, but I forget I'm even doing it.

Just sighed again.

What is with me?  I'm like a love-sick spinster relentlessly pouring through Jane Austen videos in my pajamas, eating Kettle Corn popcorn.  Not that I ever do that...

I think it has something to do with the fact that, in three days, I am moving out of my parents house.  For the second time.  I am going to miss them so much.  Some days I seriously feel like an eight year old clinging to what is safe and warm.  We've been through a heck of a lot together, and it really boils down to the fact that I don't know how to thank them.  I mean, seriously, I cry every time I stop and reflect on what they have done for me in the last six months; thanks feels so inexpressible. 

Sometimes this is how I feel with God too.  I have no words.  No words can express my thanks.  My awe.  My love.  My curiosity.  My feelings.  David feels the same thing in Psalm 119.  I think it is going to be a Psalm that I reflect on in the coming months - it is chock-FULL of really awesome insights, and super-relatable.  Read through a few paragraphs if you have time:  http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Psalm+119&version=MSG
  
..."Oh, that my steps might be steady,
      keeping to the course you set;
   Then I'd never have any regrets
      in comparing my life with your counsel.
   I thank you for speaking straight from your heart;
      I learn the pattern of your righteous ways.
   I'm going to do what you tell me to do;
      don't ever walk off and leave me...
I shiver in awe before you;
      your decisions leave me speechless with reverence."

Habits.

You know, old habits die hard.  Really, they do.

Today was my first time standing up in a shower.  Whoot whoot!  I have tried it several times before, but (at night) my left foot is killing me.  It gets really sore, and I haven't been icing it like I should be.  So, popping a squat has become a routine.  I am week out from my first doctor's appointment in two months, and I can't wait to hear what he has to say. I'm moving back to Milwaukee!  You can't tell him this, but I wore a shoe on my left foot all day today!  (I'm not supposed to until the next appointment... ; )

It's so funny because I can't believe that there are still "firsts" coming my way.  It's been nearly six months!  Can you believe it?! 

I keep thinking about how my old habits in Milwaukee are going to be challenged in the coming months.  In many ways I think that the upcoming weeks are going to be one of the hardest parts of this journey.  I have already caught myself trying to do everything that I was doing before I fell, but I soon realized that I can't.  I mean, I really can't leave the house after 7p because when I come home my foot will be throbbing.  I can't walk as fast as I used to, and I'm going to have to slow way down.  Which is hard because I'm the kind of person that like to cram something into every available second of the day...almost to a fault. 

My habits will slowly change, and I am quite excited about this.  I've mentioned the book "Praise Habit" by David Crowder before, as I've been reading it off and on in the last few months.  I love the beginning of the book where it says:

"What if we were so moved by who God is, what He's done, what He will do, that praise, adoration, worship, whatever, continuously careened in our heads and pounded in our souls? What if praise were on the tip of our tongues like we were a loaded weapon in the hands of a trigger-happy meth addict and every moment might just set us off? This is what we will do for eternity.

What makes us think our time on earth should be any different? What keeps it from being so?"

I want my habits to change for the better.  And I think that the praise, adoration, and worship that he's talking about looks differently for everyone.  And sometimes the same too.  But what I am looking forward to is seeing the ways that God uses my new-found pace.  I think it is going to be a very good thing.