Here, Let Me Push You!

Wow, it's been almost a year since I posted anything.  Yikes.  Alright, here it goes...

My church has been going this series titled "The Worst Friend Ever".  While you might think it's all about having a bad friend, or what to do with bad friends, it's really about asking yourself if you ARE the bad friend!  The series was, I believe, on week #4 today, and the message brought this morning is really resonating in my heart.

Our pastor likes to use props and demonstrations to get his point across, and he's very conversational in his "preaching", which I love.  He's talking with us, not at us, or down to us.  It's refreshing.  This morning he asked for a volunteer.  The man got up on stage, and Pastor Linn explains to him that he's going to push him in a direction, and wanted the man to resist him.  The prop at the other end of this was a cross.  It was to illustrate, a friend pushing the other friend towards the cross, towards Jesus.

The whole point this morning was that we, as Christians, need to surround ourselves with people who will push/nudge/guide/nurture us towards Jesus, and asking ourselves if we have and are those kinds of friends.  My immediate reaction was yes, I do have those kinds of friends!  I have this amazing support system, this community of believers who speak truth into my life, who challenge my thinking and my heart, to follow God in everything I do.  And we walk this way together, not because we are better, smarter, or holier than anyone else, but because we are called to be this in each others' lives.  We are called to edify, encourage and support each other.

I, of course, have friends that are not "of my faith", and therefore don't necessarily point me in the direction of God.  Am I any less whole for having these people in my life?  No, because they offer a perspective that my Christian friends can't.  They challenge my thinking, my beliefs, and my faith.  They test me, maybe even criticize me at times.  As our pastor put it this morning, they "drain me".  The "draining" process can be both good and bad, and I better make sure I have people there ready to help fill me back up again.  (The friends that point me right back to God.)

It got me thinking though.  If you're pushing a friend towards Jesus, that means they're either resisting, or they're walking the opposite direction, because you're having to push.  If you were just walking alongside them, in the same direction, no action would be necessary.  So, how does it go for you when you're pushing someone the opposite direction?  You meet resistance.  How does that translate into friendship?  Do you love silently?  In other words, do you not say something or do something you know you should, to help your friend, because you're worried about it "ruining" the relationship, or causing friction?  Or do you face the fact that it might make things awkward, it might get really uncomfortable, that person might reject you, hate you, walk away completely from you, and do what's right in love for this person?  Tough decision.

I was having a discussion with a man in our singles group after coming out of this service.  He hadn't been yet, so he was unaware of the message.  We were talking about how sometimes people say, "Oh, all I need is God.  I don't need people in my life to fulfill me."  Seriously?  God created us to live with people, to be in community.  We are the essence of God in people's lives.  God can't hug you, deliver food to your house when you've got so much going on you can't think about planning meals.  He can't loan you a car, run to your aid when you're in trouble.  But His people can!

So, why do people say that God is all I need, and I'm just fine without friends or people in my life?  I mean, I get it.  I get that God can supply our every need.  But He does that in so many ways.  One is through people.  I honestly think that the main reason we want to retreat to a world less people is because it's freakin' hard to deal with people!!

Relationships are it.  It's like the thing that makes the world go 'round.  But we're flawed humans!!  We screw up ALL the time!!  We do and say hurtful things to each other every day, and have to apologize, forgive, move on and deal, all while balancing the consequences of what we do with learning to forgive ourselves, accept forgiveness, still knowing that we're going to jack things up again the very next day.  It's a mess!!  We try, we really do.  But honestly, we're just plain and simple flawed.  It's these flaws in ourselves and in others that make living in a community so hard.  It's humbling, scary, and flat out annoying knowing that no matter how hard we try, we're still going to fail someone or ourselves, in some way(s).  Wouldn't it be grand if we were all perfect?!  Some say yes, most say no.  The jury's still out. :)

All I'm saying is, I have friends in my life that when the going gets tough they offer one-liners and "that's too bad's", or "you should try meditation or yoga", and then I have other friends that point me to Jesus and say, "Go ask for wisdom, forgiveness and grace, because he's the only one big enough to give it, and he's the only one who's never going to fail you."  And while sometimes I Really hate hearing that, and want to tell them to "buzz off and just feel sorry for me for once", I know they're right.

They might be pushing me towards Jesus against my stubborn will, but at least they're pushing me in the right direction!!

And if that doesn't work, there are always the proverbial 2 x 4's upside the head.

I was challenged this morning to look at myself AS a friend.  Am I being That friend?  Am I joining God in what He's doing in the lives of my friends?  Am I helping them stay on that path?  Am I showing love at all costs?
And what about my friends?  Am I surrounding myself with people who are guiding me back to Jesus?  Are my friends filling me, or draining me?

Can't wait for next week's challenge in "The Worst Friend Ever" series!

Little Jesus Worshiper

I went to a Diamondbacks baseball game the other night, which included fireworks and a concert from The David Crowder Band.  I went with a large group of friends from the singles group that I attend.  It was a lot of fun watching the game, catching up with friends, eating hot dogs and a couple handfuls of cotton candy.  What a great weeks end!
I had never had the opportunity to hear The David Crowder Band in person, but am a fan of their music, so I was excited to be able to go to this concert.  I dig his style, and his sold out lyrics and music, praising Jesus through worship and a good 'ole country hoedown.
As I was sitting there in the stands, listening to beautiful music on an absolutely gorgeous night, I looked over to to see a young girl, maybe 8 or 9 years old, hands in the air, singing along and praising Jesus.
A general definition given to the term "reckless abandon" is this:  "To do or say something without regards for the consequences".  Children have this down pat!  The older we get, the more we lose that innocent, childlike faith.  Children can see things we adults cannot, because for the most part they are untainted by the world around them.  They have imaginations that run wild, and trust far easier than adults who have experienced hurts and lies from people they were meant to trust.
Matthew 19:13-14 shares a tiny blip about a few parents bringing their children to Jesus, and being shewed away by his disciples.  Almost as if they were annoyed with these people for bringing their children to Jesus, when he had so many other important things he could be doing.  Jesus was a busy guy.  He didn't have time for these kids.  What do they need from him anyways?  There are tons of hurting people out here all wanting him to save them, help them, heal them.  Surely these children didn't have these kinds of urgent matters to attend to.
But Jesus corrects his disciples, "Let the children come to me.  Don't stop them!  For the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to those who are like these children."  Childlike faith.  Reckless abandon.
Scripture is littered with examples of people forsaking all for Christ, and yet it took me forever to feel comfortable raising my hands in worship, IN CHURCH!  The place where I am among fellow believers, and I am worried about what THEY think instead of worshiping God with everything I have, and no regard for anything else.
This little girl, who I watched as she sang and waved her hands in the air, unconcerned with who was watching or what anyone else thought of her, reminded me of the childlike sincerity that God desires from each of his children.  We have an audience of One!
It made me smile, watching this little Jesus-worshiper, and knowing that God was smiling too, as this child, in reckless abandon, let her soul free in worship. :)  What an example!

Camping in Sedona!

I remember camping as a child.  It was definitely not my favorite thing to do.  My main memory is of camping with my grandparents, and having to sleep on this bed that was about 6 inches away from the ceiling of the camper.  I couldn't move.  It was hot.  It was so uncomfortable.  That, and walking half a mile to the restrooms. 
I've had some better experiences camping as an adult, which gave me a little courage to take a camping trip with my friends, and 60 other single people, to Sedona this past weekend.  The group is part of a local Phoenix church, and a group that I had never met before.  I was glad to go with a couple of friends, for that reason, and decided I could handle 24 hours of "pot toilets" and all things camping.
 
Honestly, saying I was "roughing it" out in the wild, would be a far stretch, as dinner was hot dogs, hamburgers and tons of other food.  Breakfast was bacon, eggs, muffins, fruit, and even more food.  I spent the night in my van, with an air mattress and blankets.  And although we had no hand-washing stations, and the bathroom stalls were just a deep hold in the ground with a toilet in a large stall, that was the extent of the "hardships".

Driving into Sedona, Arizona is breathtaking.  Everything red (rocks and dirt) juxtaposed with the desert flora and fauna, and the green of the trees, including pines, and the white of the alpines, makes you stand there in awe of things so beautiful.  Huge mountain cliffs everywhere, that look like hiking thrills waiting to happen, until you get close and realize how massive these things are. 
My traveling companions and I stopped at the Chapel of the Holy Cross, which is built into the side of a mountain.  From the road, you can see the huge cross against the glass of the side of the chapel.  It's beautiful.  Even more so when you go into the chapel.  That glass wall you can see from the road, once inside give you a breathtaking view of Sedona, while the huge cross casts shadows through the room.  It is peaceful and serene, the kind of place I could spend an hour or two in just praying, thinking, reflecting.  But there was no time for that.  Although I did get a picture, and that will have to do!

Normally I find a sitter for my dog for trips like this, but I decided it was time for Neena to get out of the house and enjoy the great outdoors.  I was a little worried about her "spunky" attitude being too much for such a large group of people, but she did great.  This trip wore her out, which kept her calm, and she had fun visiting all the people in our group.  I'm pretty sure she loved being the center of attention!

We got to the campsite, which was on a creek.  Anyone who knows me, knows how much I love the water,  so this immediately drew my attention.  Forget the hiking, the camp games, and get me to the water!  Within 30 minutes my water shoes were on and I was down in the creek trying to walk the rocks while carrying the dog.  Not the smartest of ideas, but my dog doesn't like the water.  It worked out fine, and I was able to make my way out into the middle of the creek, park myself on a rock, and enjoy the beautiful scenery.

The creek bed was bull of rocks and boulders, surrounded by trees, and through the trees...mountain cliffs.  It was so picturesque, like someone should have had a canvas out right there, painting this beautiful scene.  The water was cold at first, but was so refreshing I couldn't help but keep my legs and feet dangling in the current.  I could have stayed there all day, but eventually my body got tired of sitting on a rock.  So I did a little more wandering through the creek, and then made my way back to camp.

I decided to take some pictures along the creek, and as I was doing so, the dog yanked on the leash and my camera fell right out of my hands, straight into the dirt.  After thinking I got it all cleaned off, I tried to open and close it.  It got stuck.  It was broken.  Good thing I took a ton of pictures before it busted.  So much for my nice camera.  That lasted all of a month. :(

It was great to meet some new people on the trip.  I was surprised at how large the group was, and then found out that the group itself is about 250 people, all 20-30's singles.  Wow.  It was interesting to watch the eclectic group of people that attended.  Conversations sparked and invitations were made to come to more events, which I'm planning on doing.

Our night was filled with singing songs around the campfire, with a guitar, and 60 voices.  While our campground neighbors were enjoying Cinco De Mayo celebrations, we were singing and listening to one of the guys preach about God.  I couldn't help but think about how this must look to these people.  I'm sure they're thinking, "These people are crazy."  Not that I care.  I've been there, done that, wondering if my religion is real, if God is even real.  At this point, I know why I believe what I believe, and what other people think is not going to deter me from practicing my faith.  But as I've been through some things, my understanding of what other people think of Christians has grown.  There's more to say here, but I'll wait...

Since this was the night of the super moon, we were able to enjoy it from the outdoors.  Unfortunately, because we were in the mountains, we couldn't see it until it was all the way risen.  But, as I was sitting there enjoying the cedar wood campfire (heavenly smell, by the way), I looked past to the creek bed and thought for sure someone had a spotlight shining on it.  The moon was so bright!  We hiked up to the road to see it and take some pictures.  I love full moons, night skies, stars.  Love the stars.  I could stare up into a night sky for hours and still want more!

I had the smart idea of sleeping in my van again, which was awesome.  I had an air mattress, and egg crate mattress, blankets all lined up in the back.  Sleeping on the ground, or out in the open is wonderful, but cold temps and hard ground doesn't really go that well with all the metal residing in my body.  And while I'm miles better than I have ever been, I didn't want to push it.  I knew if I slept on the ground I would be so uncomfortable the next day.  Hence, the air mattress.  

My plan would have turned out great, except my air mattress sprung a leak, and somewhere in the middle of the night I woke up sleeping on the floor of my van, which was pretty much like sleeping on the ground.  I think I actually starting laughing at this point.  So much for that idea!  I woke up two times during the night, shivering cold.  The dog was shivering too, which is definitely not good.  Good thing I was in the van.  I just turned the car on for ten minutes the first time, let it get warm and then went back to sleep.  The second time however, I woke up and turned the car on, but fell asleep in the nice hot air pumping through every single vent in the vehicle.  The car ran for about 45 minutes before I woke up super hot!  Oops.  Oh well.  It was worth it.

The only bad things were the air mattress deflating, the broken camera, and the renegade pebble that cracked my windshield on the way back to Phoenix.  I could think of worse things that could happen.  I honestly enjoyed myself.  And it was great to meet some new people as well.  Just another adventure to add to the list, and I'm sure there will be more to come.

After my 24 hour camping experience I can honestly say I could do it again, and would love to have stayed longer.  So much for bad childhood camping experiences!!

Hypersensitivity!

I share these things on my blog, because my hope is that they will be shared.  I've met enough people, and talked with enough of them suffering to know that understanding and encouragement is necessary in order to deal with it!

This week at work, my "lunch group" somehow got on the topic of hypersensitivity to pain during childbirth.  While I couldn't relate to the pain of childbirth, I could relate to hypersensitivity to pain.  So, I mentioned something about understanding that feeling.  This sparked the question from one co-worker as to what I was referring to.  Sometimes I feel like I've shared enough of this story that everyone already knows it, so I guess I was thinking he kind of knew "my story", and said, "Oh, when I had my accident."  I figured that would be the end of it, but more questions came.  "What accident?"  Apparently he didn't know.

I can't be the only one that is faced with these questions, because we all have "a story".  Generally, everyone has something in their life that hits them hard, and changes the way they think, act, live.  The more you get to know people, or share your life with them, the more questions come, and eventually you get to that question that hits your story.  How much do you share with people, and will they look at you differently because of it?
One of two things generally happens after I answer questions like the one my co-worker presented to me.  Either you receive pity, or you are put on a pedestal.  You hope for that rare third option...understanding.  Because if people can understand the thing that makes you you, that erases the vulnerable feeling you have in the pit of your stomach, and replaces it with respect and understanding.

So, here in front of 4 of my co-workers, people I care about, respect and spend the majority of my time with, I place myself in vulnerability, and share.

Preface:  Drunk driver, escaping police, came across the grass median on the highway in his truck.  I stopped him.  Shattered pelvis and hip.  6 Weeks in the hospital, 6 weeks in the nursing home, another several months in a wheelchair.  Had to learn to walk again, pretty much learn to do everything that would require the bottom half of my body, again.  It's a miracle I survived.  5 years of full-time therapy, another two years of trying to figure out what my body would allow me to do, and then finally a year of slowly working my way back to being "me".  Just a different version of me.

Tidbits:

I remember pins inserted in my toe to help set it after it was crushed.  These long metal pins were inserted at some point when I was out of it, so I didn't feel them getting put in.  One went in through the top of my big toe, straight down.  The other from the ball of my foot, straight across.  They were about 3-4 inches long, not that big around.  The pins made it impossible for me to bend my toe, but just out of fear I had taken to not moving any of my other toes.
One day, the bandages came off, and my foot was covered with dead skin, much like someone who just had a cast removed.  My mom was trying to pull the dead skin off, and as it started to pull on my toe (still pinned) I would wince in pain.  It was basically like pulling peeling skin off your arm after a bad sunburn.  Not usually painful, but for some reason any pull this toe skin would send pain waves through my entire foot.

The worst pain I ever felt, of course, was during the first few days after my accident while they were waiting for the swelling to go down so they could do surgery.  Because my leg (femur) bone had no socket to sit in, my leg was pretty much dangling free and clear.  To keep my femur head from being damaged, my leg was put in traction.  This consisted of three holes drilled through my knee, a rod placed through with pulleys attached that ran to the end of my hospital bed with weights hanging on the end.
Any time someone bumped my bed, even in the slightest, it was like shock waves all through my body.  That happened a lot.
In order for my bedding to be changed, these pulleys needed to be disconnected.  After that I was instructed to grab the opposite bar with right hand, and pull my top half towards it.  Unfortunately, no matter how many signals I sent from my brain to my leg, I was unable to move it, so there it laid.  Top half moved, bottom half didn't.  Pain ensued, only made worse when they had to lift my leg onto my other one so they could change everything out.  I have never felt such pain in my entire life.
The screams that came out of me were nothing short of blood-curdling, forcing my own mother to leave the room throwing up, when she saw this all for the first time.  I was on the largest possible dosage of morphine I was allowed to legally have at one time, and still felt this king of pain.
Of course, this procedure was only half-done, as I would then have to have my leg taken down, turn my top half back, get moved into a straight line, and then have the pulleys and weights reattached to my rod in my knee.  Every single touch of a hand, no matter where on my body was like shock waves.  I know I used that reference before but it's the best way to describe how it felt.  It's your entire body writhing in pain.

There was a very long period of time after this procedure that even the slightest touch, anywhere on my body was like falling into a pricker bush.  Hypersensitivity to pain is horrible, because the smallest thing feels like the worst pain ever.  Every sensor in your body is fired up.

This lunchtime conversation got really serious, really quick.  I write in more detail than I shared at lunch, just to be clear. :)

"So you have metal parts?  Do you set off metal detectors at the airport?"
"Yes, I do, and yes, all the time.  This area (pointing to my pelvis/hip area) is pretty much like a kitchen sink."

Learning to walk again was the scariest thing I've ever done.  You would think it would be hard, not scary.  For me it was terrifying.  Here I am with a boot on one foot that only allows me to put weight on the back half of my foot, the other leg completely non-weight bearing, and a walker...with wheels.  The plan was to use my arms to bear my weight while I used my "good leg" to hop a step.  Then swing the bad leg forward to meet the other, and continue the process.
But this walker had wheels!!  Because I had been laying flat for the last six weeks my muscles had atrophied.  My arms were weak, my legs even weaker.  Grabbing onto a walker and trying to lift your entire body (dead weight) and hop felt impossible.  The scary part were the wheels because as I grabbed onto it, it moved.  Slid forward with the slightest effort.  Great for people who are already walking and just need stability.  Not so great for people who can't even hold themselves up.
I freaked out.  I cried.  I practically hyperventilated.  My therapist tried to play drill instructor to motivate me.  I almost threw up.
Day 2 - take the wheels off the walker, and put on the rubber stoppers.  This day I actually took one "step", maybe two.  Remember the shock waves?  Every hop was a jolt of pain, that just kept on reverberating through my body.  I used every inch of brain power to try and send signals to my bad leg, trying to get it to swing forward.  Still not luck.  It was like trying to take a step with an 100-pound person attached to your ankle.  It just wasn't happening.  So I used the rest of my body to try and swing it forward...more like drag it forward.

I wish I could say that things got easier from that day forward, with a miraculous recovery and everything was great from then on.  While things did get "better", it sure didn't feel like any of my hard work was making any difference.  Things were moving at a snail's pace.  I eventually moved back to Michigan and began water therapy at 6 months post-accident.  I was still non-weight bearing on my one leg, and still in a wheelchair, only able to sit at a 60-degree angle.
I slid onto a special machine, which lowered me into the water for the first time.  What a trip!  The warm water felt great, and I hopped on my good leg out into deeper water, probably 4.5 feet.  The deeper you go, the less strain on your body.  Perfect for my first attempt at taking a step on my bad leg.  "Are you ready Marci?  I want you to move your leg forward, step quickly and then shift your weight back to your other leg."
Go time.  Time for this leg to move.  If it's going to happen, it's going to happen here, in the deep water, with no pressure on my leg.  I sent the signals from my brain to my leg, which wasn't hard to get it lifted as it was pretty buoyant in the water.  I straightened it out, pushed it down, felt my foot hit the ground for the first time in 6 months, and then it was done.  First step taken...success!

From this point on success was evident and gradual, but still long, difficult and painful.  Sometimes I wonder how I was able to handle so much pain.  So, I'll refer back to the birthing experience my co-workers starting out talking about.  What makes a woman go through this once, and then agree to it again?  The body has an amazing way of forgetting the pain you were in.  Pain is relative, and while you feel something one time that makes you writhe in pain, you may experience something more severe later.  But both times you will only remember that you were in horrible pain, and that it was horrible.  Thankfully you don't usually relive the actual pain itself.  The human body is incredible!

People deal with all sorts of pain, whether physical or emotional.  While my references here are about physical pain, I believe hypersensitivity can also be experienced with emotional pain.  The body is experiencing an overload of emotion, and the mention of something small can trigger those extreme reactions, when normally they would not.

The goal is to move past the pain.  But sometimes in order to move past it you have to sit in it for a while.  Like trying to walk again, or trying to recover from something like depression, both require an amount of determination similar to trying to walk out of a mud pit.  The snail pace that I felt was frustrating beyond belief, but necessary for me to go through to come out the other side.  Pain is unpleasant in every form, so our natural instinct is to get out of it as soon as possible.  Taking a bigger leap than your heart, mind or body is ready for will only land you back in the very same position you started in, usually more hurt and frustrated than before.

The hard part of all of this is that you can't always see the end result.  At least then you have something to go towards.  But when you can't see the end because it's so far down the road, the tiny victories are almost unrecognizable.  Set realistic, achievable goals.  Set your mind to realizing the smallest of goals and celebrating them.  The celebration is worth every inch of effort you put in to achieve it!!

FEAR: The reason we are not, and don't do.

Sometimes God is really obvious about what He wants to perfect in my life.  Other times He's a still small voice.  But, right now, in my life, He's speaking loud and clear. 
At first I thought maybe God was going to work on this singleness junk, then I thought maybe my need to control things.  Then I thought maybe it was my insecurities (of which there are several).  I finally was like, "Okay God!  I can't work on all these things at the same time!  It's just too much!"  Then one day not too long ago it hit me, like a ton of bricks, or a mack truck, or a light bulb turned on right in front of my face after a long night's sleep. 

Fear.  FEAR!!

Why do I need to control things?  Fear.
Why do I cringe when my boss confronts me?  Fear.
Why don't I just talk to that guy?  Fear.
Why can't I just be myself around other people?  Fear.  Am I too much?  Am I not enough?
Why am I so worried about what others think about me? Fear.
Why can't I take that great leap of faith into the unknown?  Fear.
Why do I find myself reluctant to be great?  Fear.
Why am I panicked about money?  Fear.
Why am I reluctant to go back to school?  Fear.
What if I make myself vulnerable and share my heart with someone and they don't like me? Fear.

Why this, why that, it always comes back to fear.

Fear holds me back from being myself all the time.  I just never realized it until now!  I thought the reason I was single was because I was awkward, or uninteresting, not attractive, or had no idea how to flirt.  And although every one of those things is true (to some degree or another), the real reason is because I have been afraid.  And I have been afraid for a very long time. 

I can remember at a very young age, learning to be afraid.  Because I am who I am, I started making lists in my mind of things I could and couldn't do because they were right or wrong.  Everything fell into the right or wrong category, leaving nothing in between.  The more "spiritual" I got, unfortunately, the bigger this list got.  And pretty soon these lists of what I thought was right and wrong started to turn into these little things we Christians like to call "walls".  I formed this protective barrier around my heart, until it grew to protect my entire self, and then my entire existence.  We Christians also like things called "boundaries".  The problem is that calling something a boundary is often a mask for a wall, that has been justified in our mind to keep ourselves safe.  There are a few things we have to have boundaries on, and absolute no-no, stay away attitude with, and that is to protect us from sinning.  As Christians we ought to have these.  But honestly, I think we take this whole idea of boundaries waaaaay to far.  I know some will disagree with me, and that's okay!

These boundaries/walls/lists protect us, and rightfully so when used correctly.  But when we justify boundaries as walls or just good boundaries to have in place, we give ourselves a way out of a situation just because it makes us vulnerable.  Think of it this way.  I may have a boundary of no sex before marriage.  Therefore, I will set boundaries for myself based on when that point of no return is for me.  I'm comfortable with this, but not with that.  Because if I do that, I know I won't be strong enough to turn back.  This is a good boundary.  It protects me from what I believe is sin.  And I believe that is sin based on God's word.
However, if I have a boundary of no sex before marriage, and therefore say I'm not going to be alone in my apartment with a man, or be in a car alone with a person of the opposite sex because someone might see us and wonder if we're going to have sex, in my opinion this is a wall.  And what is that wall in place for?  That wall is in place because we fear what others may perceive of us.

These lists/boundaries/walls I created have lead to a life of fear.  The more lists you have, the more rules you abide by, the smaller your risk.  The less risk, the less open you can be, because vulnerability equals risk.  And in a lot of people's minds risk equals weakness.  Therefore, if you are open with people (and in doing so make yourself vulnerable), you are weak.  And weakness is like death.  Because if we are weak, that means we can't do this thing called life on our own.  And that my friends, is a very scary place to be.

Unfortunately, for a Christian, vulnerability shouldn't be scary.  It should be freeing.  God said there's no way we can do life on our own.  That why we have Him.  That's why He gave us others.  I heard it said once that "Vulnerability is the most accurate measurement of courage".  Why?  Because vulnerability is scary, and having courage isn't always possible on our own strength.

For the Christian, a life of fear is full of lies.  There is nothing Satan wouldn't love more than to disable a Christian.  The fastest way to do that is fear.  Strike fear into the heart of Christian and you have no made them ineffective.  Why?  Because everything God asks a Christian to do takes courage, and not the kind you can pull out on a moment's notice.  I mean the huge kind.  The kind only God can give us.  It always requires a leap of faith.  Because God is magnified in our weakness, what He asks of us will always be out of our own reach.  It's scary.  That's why it's called a "leap of faith".

I remember as a kid, with my dad in the pool, and me on the edge, scared to jump in for fear of drowning.  He's standing there with his arms outstretched saying, "I'm right here.  I won't let anything happen to you.  Just jump!"  I stood there paralyzed, until finally I closed my eyes, held my nose, and forced myself over the edge.  As I land in the water I feel my dad's big strong arms grab me and lead me to the top safe and sound. 

I think about Eve and how Satan tempted her in the garden.  What is one of the things he spoke into her heart?  "You know, God told you you couldn't eat that fruit because if you do you'll be like him, and know everything.  He's holding out on you.  You can't trust him."  FEAR!

So, all these things I'm in the process of learning I have tried to focus on this area of fear.  The more I hear people talk around me, the more I see and hear it.  Fear dominates us.  It's incredibly powerful.  But thank God, He is more powerful than anything Satan throws at us.  Fear is not from God.  God have GIVEN us a life of freedom! 

I have to choose to live in this freedom, and it is hard!  I think I have to practice this behavior, because like anything practice makes better!  So every time I sense that feeling welling up inside me, that fear screaming at me to crawl back into my corner and withdraw, I say to myself, "I will not be afraid.  God is greater than my fear.  I will not be afraid."  So, as I stand on the edge, looking at my Father with arms stretched open wide, I close my eyes, hold my breath...and JUMP!

Thankful at Thanksgiving

It's time for the annual listing of one's blessings!  As I was contemplating what to write and started off thinking, "I'm thankful for God, and for everything he's given to me...", I realized that this sounded like some stupid award's show where one's acceptance speech starts off the same way, thanking god during an acceptance speech for singing a song about shaking your ass and other "wobbly bits" in front of someone, or inciting other people to do the same while listening to your song (however catchy it might be).  It seems not only ironic, but completely and utterly WRONG!!  So, to avoid sounding like such a cliche, I decided that wouldn't be the best way to start my list.

I just spent the last couple of days with an aunt that I have had very little occasion to visit during most of my life.  Several states have separated us since I was elementary/middle school age, and because traveling is expensive, the little time we did see each other was short and separated by several years.  Now I live only a few hours away, and have been able to visit a few times already in the short time I have lived in Arizona.  It has been a real blessing...for several reasons.

One, there is nothing like having family to be with when you are separated from the large majority of them. 
Two, it is wonderful to be able to spend time with that family after years of not being able to.
Three, my mom's sister (as much as they are different) are a lot alike, and being with my aunt feels so similar to being with my mom...different but the same.  They hug the same way, big, long and strong, where if it lasts more than several seconds you start wondering if you will be able to breath again.  There's nothing better!  The other similarity is that they are both great cooks...and not the fat-free kind.  I'm talkin' meat and potatoes, homemade cooking, without recipes or measuring cups, but full of love!  Thank God I grew up in this kind of family!  I'm haulting on reason three for a moment while I share some more blessings.
While visiting for Thanksgiving, I was taught how to make the turkey, how to make stock, gravy, stew, and soup, how to live off one 20 pound turkey for a year, which is like teaching a man to fish instead of just feeding him for a day. :)  I had many moments of reflection over my family this holiday, moments where I was thinking through how I was raised, what kind of family and culture I come from, and how grateful I am for it all.  True, I may be lacking in knowledge of the finer things in life, I might have lived a "sheltered" life in some ways, but I was taught about things that matter, family, love, God, hard work and self-respect.  So while I may not be able to tell the difference between Monet and Picasso, I know what it means to be loved and to love back.  I know the difference between a liar and a friend, a fake and an authentic.  I was taught to love people, not things, and that family is most important.  I was raised in church, where potlucks and softball games were the usual, where everyone is in your business, and that even though people look like they have it all together, no one does.  I learned that God trumps everything.  I learned invaluable skills like fishing and how to bait my own hook, learned to cook while standing next to my mom in the kitchen, music because my house was filled with singing and the family piano, watched my dad filet a fish on the picnic table in the back yard while my mom got the beer batter ready to fry it up, knew that hunting season was really important not only for male bonding, but because it filled our freezer for the entire year with meat for our family.  I great up knowing guns were meant for hunting for food, for protection, not for hurting others.  I knew that I better respect my elders or I would get a smack across the mouth or the butt.  Either one hurt enough to remind me the next time my ignorant youth wanted to cross the line it was best to bite my tongue.  I watched my dad fix the car and change the oil in the driveway, and that it was best not to disturb him while he was "yelling" at the car. :)  I learned how to care for animals, and respect the danger in some of them.  My family is loud, sarcastic, blunt, stubborn, middle class, blue collar, hunters, fishers, cooks, always laughing together, sometimes fighting each other, but always come back to love for each other.  Yeah, I'm a hick, but I don't mind if you call me that, because I'm proud of who and what I come from. :)
All these thoughts were running through my head this weekend as I'm being fed amazing food, and learning more about my family members and enjoying this time with my aunt.  And I realized how many things I am truly grateful for.  I mean, once you crack the "thankfullness box" open it's pretty hard to stop.
Moving on...
I'm general thankful for lots of other things, my family and a relatively healthy year for everyone, for my siblings and all the things they have accomplished this past year and continue to do, my parents that they are working, healthy and happy.  I'm thankful for a job, a place to live, the ability to provide for myself, and for the health that I do have, and the improvements I've had in that area this past year.  I'm thankful for my friends, scattered all over the country and the world, and that we have social media to be able to keep in touch and be involved in each others' lives dispite the miles between us.  I'm thankful for new friends, and how they are adding to my life, and letting me add to theirs.  I'm thankful for finding a church that I love and has challenged me in my spiritual life.
The list could go on and on.  Like I said, it's hard to stop being thankful for things once you take a minute to think about it.  I could spend my whole life wondering what if, or pondering choices made, or chances not taken.  I could wish for a more affluent upbringing, or a life of luxury.  But why?  I love what I had, love what I have, and know that I don't need things to make me fall in love with my future.  If I stay grounding in what's important, and remember to count my blessings I'm pretty sure that next year I'll be saying the same thing I am this year...that I'm so filled with thanks and love that I couldn't possibly need anything else in life.
Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

I'm happy about this, right?

Earlier this week I had an MRI done on my low back to see if they could find anything that would be causing my extreme pain.  I went in this morning to the pain management doctor, but before I saw him I asked to get a copy of the report so I could review it myself before I went in there.  "No findings to justify symptoms" was the last line of the report.  There is a little wear and tear on my back, and a little arthritis.  That was expected given my age, weight and past injuries.  What they didn't find was the reason for my pain.  So this is where people say, "Well, at least you don't have to have surgery."  Yes, thank you for that, because surgery really the worst option for me right now (sarcastic).
I immediately teared up, but did everything possible to hold it in.  Maybe I'm misinterpreting one of these lines, maybe the doctor will see something they didn't catch, maybe, maybe, maybe.  I knew none of those wishes were correct, but still in the back of my mind I hoped that someone would be wrong, someone would see something.  What I really hoped was that the MRI would show something obvious, something that could be seen with the eye, and could be fixed...somehow.  Yet again, I am left with no answers.
I am trying really hard to see the silver lining here.  That being that I don't have a herniated disk, don't require major surgery, don't have something wrong with my spine, or any obvious signs of pinching or damage to any nerves stemming from my spine.  And for that I am grateful.  I really am.
So the pain management doctor and I talked through things, and I think he saw how close to breaking down I was and put his hand out and said calmly, "It's okay.  We'll figure this out."  Well, that made me tear up again, and I almost lost it, but refocused my energy on the diagrams he was showing me, and possible treatments.  Thank God he didn't think I was crazy.  I really don't think I could have handled another person looking at me saying, "You shouldn't be in this much pain", or better yet ASKING me, "Why are you in this much pain?"  As if I had the answer.  Trust me, if I did, I wouldn't be here right now!
So I asked the doctor what he could do today to help the pain in my low back.  So I got 4 trigger point injections of a numbing and steroid concoction whipped up by the doctor.  I also scheduled a sacroiliac injection.  That one is a lot bigger, a lot more complicated and requires me to have a driver and take the day off work.  Oh joy.  I believe it's done with fluoroscope so they can have a live picture of my insides while they're injecting.  It's pretty cool actually.  I had one other one done right before my hip replacement, and stole a glance at the monitor while they were putting the needle in.  Crazy.  That's in an effort to get the injection in exactly the right spot in the joint.  The one I had previously did nothing except make me extremely sore (from the fluid around the joint).  But the doctor said that the joint can be tricky to get the right spot and wants to give it one more try.  If that doesn't work we'll move on to other things.  That's for the back pain.
The stabbing pain in my leg however is a whole nother story.  Since there was no nerve issue in my back, the pain in my leg is most likely from the nerve that was purposefully cut in one of my pelvic reconstruction surgeries.  The nerve was cut to give me relief from pain, and with all the damage to my pelvis, I'm sure it has.  But nerves are tricky little things, and can start to regrow, or have funky little side effects.  That's what the doc thinks has happened.  Unfortunately, this is going to be very hard to treat.  First step, possible anti-seizure medicines I would have to take every day to keep the nerve from flaring up or spasming.  I'm not fond of this treatment, but then again I'm not fond of any of these treatments.  They're all painful, and putting things into my body that aren't healthy.  But if you can't move, you can't move, and you're at the mercy of what works.
So I have the script for the anti-seizure meds, but am still contemplating it.  It would take 2-3 months over meds every day to even see if it's working, or I can wait and try these other treatments and see if they work instead. 
The pain doc told me that pain management is really a trial and error process.  You go with the information you have and then you start eliminating what's not working. 
The treatment is long, expensive and emotionally draining.  Not only do you have to take time off work (if you can continue working amidst the horrible pain) to go to the appointments, but you have co-pays and deductibles for each visit as well.  Not only do you have the pain management doctors, but you have physical therapy as well, and co-pays and more time off for that.  The worst part...even if you feel better from a round of physical therapy, you know that at any time you could flare up again and be right back where you started, having to do it all over again.

Unfortunately, because people no longer SEE my pain, they think it doesn't exist.  It's like a vicious cycle.  I wear makeup, I wear decent-enough clothes, and I smile...a LOT.  To anyone looking I am not in pain.  I am normal.  Then the questions come.  Why do you (as a single woman with no children) drive a minivan?  Why do you have a handicap license plate?  Why are you on disability?  Oh, you have Medicare.  Why?  Why aren't you working?  Why aren't you working full-time?  How do you survive on just working part-time?  Why can't you lift that box?  Why can't you take the stairs?  Why can't you go hiking with me?  What's wrong?
Then I try to answer those questions as politically correct as possible and in as short amount of time as possible without provoking more questions, or worse, the disbelieving look and subsequent annoyance with you "milking the system" by "claiming" your disabled.  Yes, people, this is my life...welcome.
So, I realize I have now vented a heap of frustration in this blog posting, and I mean this in no way to discourage anyone.  I know there are a couple people who read this because it's someone who is going through crap too, and it helps to be encouraged.
The encouraging thing about the last week is that I have found TWO doctors in one week who are actually decent, smart individuals, and not threatened by a girl who knows her body, knows a little bit about a little bit, and isn't afraid to challenge their opinion.  Those kinds of doctors are hard to come by, but apparently they DO STILL EXIST!!  That is encouraging.  Sometimes you just have to look a little further.  It is my hope someday to have a website, where members can rate doctors they have seen for a list of qualities.  I base most of my new patient visits on reviews from others, either people I know, or reviews online.  I don't go anywhere without hearing about it first.  There are too many quacks out there.  And honestly, with the internet, and the capability of putting reviews on absolutely everything there is no reason that anyone should not have a review online.  So, check others' reviews, ask around to others who live in your area, and go hunting!  Good doctors still exist!!