Change of pace . . .

Happy Sunday!!

So it's been a long time since I've written here . . . as was brought up to me the other day! Apologies! This latest round in Jamaica I've found I update facebook and my prayer chain emails a bit more often that this blog. Um, okay, a lot more often! If you want to catch me at either one of those send me an email! Thanks and many blessings!

"We work as one. . ."

Anytime volunteers come down, I have at least one bout of apprehension. Don’t get me wrong. I’m stoked to have new people come down and experience a place and culture I love. One of the most incredible things I’ve ever experienced is watching a person change to completely embrace this culture in a mere seven days. However, there’s usually a day or two in which I freak out that someone coming down will just hate everything about this place and the week will be awful for them. Yeah. I’m not sure what I’d do in that situation, and praise Jesus, I’ve yet had a reason to find out (yet another example of why worry and anxiety are a waste!). This past week we had a team of 12 come down for a Stroke Camp--six people from Iowa, Des Moines University (including Meesh), six people from Pennsylvania, Arcadia University, and to round it out six patients from our area (plus Brooke and I). Phenomenal hardly begins to describe the way God moved throughout those seven days, in and out of the clinic.

Huge tears fell from my eyes Monday morning, the first day of camp (day three on the island for the volunteers) when one of our long time patients led us in prayer and choked up with sobs about getting a second chance of life. I too have been given a second chance on this island, with these people, to serve and to do what I love to do as a PT and an individual. I love that my patients here are so thankful for simply life, to wake up in the morning, and aren't afraid to praise God for that! I thought then that I knew how incredible of a week it would be (and how much I would cry throughout). . . but I was wrong. It was so much more! My heart remains full recalling moments throughout the week. . .

Pre-testing on the first day! Kate, Tiffany and Jane ran the Wolf Motor Function Test with Marshie to start.

Kathy is a professor at Des Moines and was a huge help in both heart and expertise all week.  She made huge gains, in particular, with Sylvan.

Lauren, Sam, and Ashley with Sylvan for his 6 Minute Walk Test!

Brian and Kate with Ms. Buttas. Mon, she a work!

Marshie, Mas Easton, and Sylvan

Sam and Tiffany with a smiling Ms. Buttas

Kevon, being so young, loves sports and competitions. Ashley and everyone else put him through the ropes!

We all got pretty creative with Ms. Yvonne as well, although Erica and Brian may have  taken the cake with this one!

Love her! We first saw her last fall and she's made great gains since then. She reminds me constantly why I  love being a PT and living in this country!

Every morning begins with an hour mat routine! Not as easy as it looks!

Brooke was our fearless leader and camp director for the week.  Dr. Kathy had some great ideas to add  too!

Who says PT isn't fun! These guys worked and worked 6-8 hours a day . . . but they got to play some too!

Mi incredible older sisters. So blessed by Brooke and Meesh!

(Can't get this to rotate the right way) Body Weight Treadmill Training! Everyone did it!

End of the day musical chairs. Mas Easton's a sneaky one!

Kevon and sports . . . 

Good ole NMES.

Dance contest winners!

Marshie made huge gains with the balance harness .  . . He never quits trying. Love it!

Every morning we start with devotions and Jamaican choruses. This happened to be the group's favorite . . . so much so that they 'performed' it for our talent show at Anna's and then the next morning here, for the patients! 

As 1 in 4 Jamaicans have high blood pressure, and these guys are at even a higher risk b/c they've already had one stroke, checking BP is a continual practice throughout camp. . . especially b/c no one wants to quit or stop working!

Post-testing! Every single, I mean, EVERY SINGLE person improved on EVERY SINGLE  one of the five tests. . . 

Yvonne schooled her last Timed Up and Go and Wolf Motor scores, Marshie tripled his walking distance, Sylvan moved down two fall risk levels in his balance, Kevon completed 4 more hand tasks. . . this is incredible especially with the range of lower level to higher level functioning that we had at the camp. Medicare, listen up!

What graduation is complete without certificates?? 

All Smiles (and a few tears too!)

June 2011 Stroke Camp

After work, we must play! Boat ride out to Pelican Bar (bar out in the middle of the ocean)

Da Likkle Brutte, still fearlessly leading :)

Love dem!

That night we came home and Anna threw Meesh a not-so surprise  Jamaican wedding reception!  So much fun! Meesh got married May 7, but here her Jamaican community family was able to celebrate too!

Kevon and Webster are both deaf but incredible teachers. Kevon's been teaching me JSL weekly and I'm loving it! Ashley got me started with it during this week. 

Da Broom Brothers are incredible bongo players and played throughout the night . . . meaning we danced , danced, danced!

This guy can move . . . in ways that should physiologically not be possible! But Anna showed him a thing or two too!

A small sample of what these two sounded like . . .and this was hours into the party!! Feel the rhythm!

Followed the week up with a sunrise hike . . . love this country and God's beauty in it!

It wasn’t a perfect week, by far. But sometimes imperfection makes things a lot more fun. Like when the water pump for the house breaks or it takes 14 of you over an hour to set up two canvas gazebos. Or the jeep battery dies on your way home. Or you have to push the bus to get it unstuck on the rain laden hill. . . Seven days of flexibility for sure. I'm learning to laugh with it all. :) Seven days of healing, love, JOY, patience, and perseverance. Seven days to try new things, step up and succeed. Seven days full of the reminder that I can still be who I was made to be as a PT (and I love it!). Seven days of watching hearts open, faith come alive, and seeds be planted.

At graduation, Mr. Easton said, “We work as one. We incorporated real good.” Mon, how true that is! God knows just what He is doing, and as it says in 1 Corinthians, He continues to bring about just the right parts to make up a full body, for work, for service, and to create change that glorifies His name. He knew exactly who to send down for this past week. All praise, glory, and honor be to Him! These types of changes will last, certainly in my own heart, but hopefully and prayerfully in the patients’ and volunteers’ lives as well.

Back to the beginning . . .

When you stand out almost everywhere you go, seeing a familiar face is a most wonderful thing!! So the fact that I've been embraced, welcomed back, and loved on more times than I can count, in so many different places over the last three days is a huge blessing.

I'm back! In my Jamaica. In among people I hold near and dear to my heart, and placed in a culture and climate that I absolutely love (maybe not so much this heat, but one makes do!). God is so good, my friends! Between the food (mangoes, jerk chicken, bumpies, papaya, etc), vegetation (flowers galore!), new adventures (i.e. buying fish, hanging lights, Kingston), and people (old and new friends, patients, proposals) . . . well, I could take up a lot of your time giving stories and details! However, there was one person we happened to run into yesterday that reminded me of all the reasons why I fell in love with Jamaica and my work here in the first place.

Her name is Ms. Johnson. I met her almost two years ago to date on my first trip to the island as a student PT. She wasn't a patient, but rather the supporting wife who came in for her husband's, Victor, appointments. He had had a stroke and a whole lot of other things that were inexplainable but left him severely physically disabled. One of the most trying things for him was his lack of ability to communicate. A former pastor, he could comprehend everything around him but was unable to speak. I can't even begin to imagine how hard that must be, in addition to his physical struggles. In his eyes you could see a desire to get better, but frustration and new pain at remaining so limited.

The long and the short of it is that he was one of those patients you just never forget. When I came back from my two-week trip, he was one of the ones I wrote about in my reflection paper for the very reason that in so many ways I felt helpless with my encouragement and skill as a PT. He, and others during those weeks, reminded me time and again that "For as much as we study and learn and practice, PT is only one piece of who we are, what we have to offer to others. It certainly should not be the driving force behind what we do or how we go about our days. Motivation, strength, courage, and healing come from a much bigger source." For Victor, any improvement, any victory he had in our time together, assuredly did not come from me, but from our much bigger Almighty God.

Getting hugged up by Ms. Johnson again the other day, as if I was an old friend not someone she hadn't seen in two years, brought all of this back to me. It was if God knew I needed the reminder to go back to the beginning, where my Jamaican journey began. I needed to remember that no matter what, He's the reason I'm here for this season. He's got my back. He's got everything in His hands, His timing, His plan, and His will.

Not much has gone as I'd planned in the last four days. Nothing really at all. But I know it went exactly as God had planned, which means everything has gone just right. I couldn't ask for anything better.

While my Jamaican journey continues, it's also beginning anew. I can't wait to see all that God will do in the time ahead!

I pray that you're finding His driving force today in all that you do as well! We head to MoBay tomorrow morning to pick up 12 volunteers for Stroke Camp next week! Woohoo!

All for Him!

Jamaica, Mi Soon Come!

I've already said goodbyes to family, Southern Oregon, friends, best friend, and in just a few short hours, Oregon and the USA will join the list! This time tomorrow I'll be (Lord, willing) arriving again in my Jamaica, the rural community of Ridge. 

Looking back on the past six months, I see so much of God's hand at work, even while in a season of brokenness and waiting, there was an even greater amount of learning, healing, and renewal. It's bittersweet to be leaving, in fact, after so much time at home, goodbyes have been harder than ever. Yet in all of these emotions, I'm again thankful for the love and support that continue to surround me! I'm also extremely excited to be returning to serve the people of Jamaica and see where God leads in the next months. 

He has been showing me so much of late, but most importantly the value of trusting Him in all things, especially the next step. I've been facing fears and praying for patience and guidance on the road ahead. I hope you'll continue to join with me, here and in prayer. I look forward to sharing more with you in the next weeks so stay tuned, mon! 

That's all for now! My massive amounts of luggage and I have a plane to catch! 

All for Him,

J

Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.

Isaiah 43:18-19 

Walk In Water

I laughed at myself this morning while I was attempting to “run” in water. For although God calls us to walk on water, I’ve done a lot of walking in water these last months. In fact, most of the time these days I walk better in water than on land. And running in water? Well that’s another story.

When I say the pool has become one of my favorite places to be these days, I don’t say it lightly or just because of my left ankle. Yes, I love the pool because I can run and jump and fall over without hurting myself. I love it because I can push and push and push without hesitation of doing damage to my ankle (for a time at least). I love the freedom the pool gives me, and I have had way too much fun playing with noodles, foam dumbbells, kickboards and the like in coming up with new exercises these last weeks. BUT. Most of all, I think I love the pool because it’s a place where I’m constantly humbled, encouraged, and reminded of the important, simple things of life that make our lives so full. . . . all of which started with an 8 am pool aerobics class.

My first day to the gym I spent more time talking to others than working out---which is nothing like my usual headphones on, get in, get it done, get out. However, “walking” with a big black boot draws more than a little attention, not to mention my machinations to maneuver into the pool on one foot were quite a sight to see. On my third day to the pool, I was approached by Nell, one of the leading ladies and a 16 year member of the 8am pool aerobics class, with an invitation to join them that Friday. She wouldn’t be convinced otherwise, and at my current stage of rehab (or lack thereof), I figured even I would get a decent workout. Oh, what preconceived notions we have about things . . .

To say I’m younger than most of the class is an understatement. Some days it’s 13:1, old to young,, others it’s more like 38:1, but this female dominated group has so much life to it, each person with their own story and a bond, like a big family. Even though I may be at a completely different stage of life than most of them, each day I’m there is so much more than a workout, but a dose of valuable lessons of this life.

I’m constantly reminded to appreciate my youth and that bodies do heal. My first day, I was approached with the question, “So did you have to spend 12 weeks in bed too?” Horrified at the thought, after my major struggles of immobility with 9 weeks on crutches, I was completely humbled in that moment. I went on to learn that Sue had broken both her tibia and fibula at my age, three surgeries, two plates, and a heck of a lot of screws later she does well on two feet now. Ugh. Two weeks later I met Sara, with the same story (replacing ice skates with roller blades) as me eleven years before, right down to the syndesmotic screws. Proof, ladies and gentleman, that bodies do heal at all ages. Since then and since word has gotten out of my PT status, I’ve learned of arthritis, fibromyalgia, total hips, strokes, lumbar fusions and a whole host of other things that benefit from staying active in the pool . . . and am reminded that not only am I blessed to be in my 20s to deal with this, but also that the body is a magnificent creation designed for movement no matter what tries to stand in its way.

This group of mostly women is always able to laugh in the big stuff and they don’t sweat the small stuff. Reoccurring UTI’s, shingles, funerals, etc don’t knock this group down, they still find reasons to smile and encourage each other on to the next day. Forgotten underwear after an hour in the pool leads to a public announcement of the fact, laughter and commiseration followed by a shrug of the shoulders. Life moves on!
This group knows and reiterates constantly that staying active is one secret to a fulfilled life. They know that limits are meant to be pushed in the right way, even if it means modification. A day of sun led to a day of gardening which led to staying in the deeper end of the pool today and pulling out after 45 min instead of 60 min.

They’re comfortable with themselves, faults and all. They’ve learned something from the battles they’ve faced and know that today is the day to live life to the fullest. Tomorrow is promised to no one. They know their limits, but they’re willing to push them and help each other if need be. They make time for coffee, and more importantly make time for family and friends. Stories are swapped about grandkids, kids, husbands, neighbors—new babies, granddaughter who plays Mary Poppins in Disney’s Broadway play, spring break plans, sports, etc. Someone is often absent from class because of a need to babysit. And every Mon, Wed, and Fri after class you’ll find an overflowing table of ladies chatting away over coffee and goodies before running off to do errands or the like. They know the value of friendship and refreshment of time enjoyed in each other’s company. Once a month they pull together and go out for lunch. This is much more than a workout group, as is life!

Here I am, six weeks after Nell introduced herself. I didn't expect then to still be here today, much less looking forward to getting up and getting wet at such an early hour three days a week, especially after I'd been allowed to do more in the gym, on land. All my past assumptions about pool aerobics have been thrown out the window. What I get out of that 60 minutes physically, like any other workout, is what I put into it. (Some of these ladies, gray hair or not, kick my competitive nature into high gear -- and a few could probably challenge me on land too.) What I get out of that hour in all other aspects, however, is truly what has me going back, because for this time, walking in water has been so much more than just walking or working out.

And for that I praise Jesus. He works in all sorts of ways, through all sorts of people! Often in ways we least expect!

The Suggestion

Part of living life to the fullest is realizing that everything matters.

 "You get married,

a child is born or not born,

in the middle of tthe night there is a knocking at the door,

on the way home through the park you see a man feeding pigeosn

all the tests come in negative and the doctor gives you back your life again;

Incident follows incident

helter-skelter leading apparently nowhere,

but then once in a while there is a suggestion of purpose,

meaning,

direction,

the suggestion of a plot,

The suggestion that, however clumsily, your life is trying to tell you something,

take you somewhere."

[excerpt taken from Listen to Your Life: Daily Meditations by Frederick Buechner]

That Kind of Week.

It’s been one of those weeks.

I’m sure you’ve had a few of them too. The kind where you dread answering your phone, find reasons to distance yourself from the computer, start avoiding going into stores or anywhere else for that matter.

Plans change, people let you down, stores are out of what you need, your email reminds you of a due date or a decision that needs to be made. Things you thought were solid, become a movable mess. You don’t have the answers. You don’t understand why. So on and so forth, I’m sure you can envision your own days like this.

Why is it that when one “big” thing happens your world may blow up for awhile, sure, but your meltdown then is nothing compared to the one you have with the, say, 100th “little” thing? You were able to brush off or move forward from 99 little things, and then BAM, that next one, that 100, did you in. When a big “bad” thing happens (i.e. breaking my foot), God is at the top of my list to seek out; however, when the little “bad” things (i.e. unexplained pain in my low back) happen throughout my week, my faithfulness to Him is often crowded out and challenged by a gazillion other preoccupying thoughts.

I hit that 100th thing today and it wasn’t pretty. My 100th thing was a very very little thing, but it seemed to open the flood gates to welcome back the other 99 I’d brushed off the rest of the week. I stopped wanting to stand firm, to trust that everything is happening for a bigger plan. I wanted to give in and let myself feel pummeled and broken. Tears flowed, sobs happened, and emotions were being thrown around like a teenage reality TV show complete with the lyrics “when my world is falling apart and I can’t find the light in the dark” (thank you, Miley Cyrus) running through my head. I needed solitude, so I did the only thing one can do in a house of five and four animals: I went for a walk.

My parents live in a valley, twenty miles and a mountain or two outside of town. Our house is surrounded by mountain upon mountain, the sky endless and often breathtaking. I can’t count the number of times that I’ve simply been awed by the grandness of it all. Today’s walk down our dirt road was no different.

It was impossible to escape the brilliance of sunlight coming through millons and millons of trees, shadowing mountains off into the distance. It was impossible to focus on the stream of thoughts muddled in my head each wrestling itself to the top of my emotions, each trying to pull me deeper into a pit of worry and frustration. Instead, for the first time in some 30 minutes, it was impossibly easy to focus on the grandness of God.

My heart wasn’t in thanking Him for the ability to walk today. In fact, it was all but complaining about my ankle and the slow pace I had to keep with all this adrenaline running inside of me. Slow and steady. Taking time. One foot in front of the other. Just like Joshua and the Israelites did back in the day.

I’m not sure how my mind made that jump, but I had the time and there it was.

Joshua, a man with a reputation for believing God against all odds. Joshua, who was picked to lead God’s people into the Promised Land. Joshua, who did what he knew he could not do through the might of the living God. Joshua, who was told in advance, like us, that he’d be able—“As I was with Moses, so I will be with you; I will never leave you nor forsake you. Be strong and courageous, because you will lead these people to inherit the land I swore to their forefathers to give them” (Joshua 1:5-6).

God uses Joshua in so many ways for His glory and kingdom, but today my thoughts drifted to Jericho. (Joshua 5-6)

After so many dramatic events, including a recent parting of the waters of the Jordan River, Joshua was instructed to lead the Israelites on a march around Jericho for six days and then seven more times on the seventh day. No superpowers, no instant demolition, no shortcuts with a simple one time around to knock down the walls. Instead God says do 13 laps and give a good shout, sound the trumpets, and the walls will collapse!

I don’t think that plan made sense to the Israelites, or even to a seasoned war strategist like Joshua. I imagine that by the third or fourth day of marching in the hot sun, one foot in front of the other, over and over, I’d have come up with more than a few grumbles and new ideas on how to knock down the walls too. And by the seventh day, on the fourth lap around, without even a pebble dropping off the wall . . . yeah, I might have felt like I was having one of those weeks, with every step nearing that “100th“ little thing.

My lesson from Joshua today was this: sometimes God directs us to keep walking around walls or stand firm against the same little things day after day, repeating the same old fundamental steps even while nothing seems to happen. Oh, it will. We must never stop believing it will. Just as profoundly as walls collapsing in and a city being taken in a matter of minutes, God will move and work in each of our lives.

But in the meantime, we’ve got to keep walking and keep circling no matter how many times we’ve done it before, no matter how many things come at us, and no matter how many times we’re yet to do it.

It’s in the day-in-day-out fundamentals that we’re challenged the most in our faithfulness. It’s in all of those “little” things that God is able to plant seeds of fruitfulness and faithfulness. My own walk today served to remind me of God's faithfulness and that I, for one, want to be more like Joshua, believing in the grandeur of God against all odds. No matter what kind of week it is.

"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. 
DO NOT BE TERRIFIED; 
DO NOT BE DISCOURAGED, 
FOR THE LORD YOUR GOD WILL BE WITH YOU WHEREVER YOU GO."

Joshua 1:9

I don't know.

I don't know much.

I don't even know who all is out there reading this or if you think I'm crazy for continuing to write in my Jamaican blog, even though I've been firmly planted in Oregon and the States for four months now. :-)

I don't know why all of a sudden I have all of this time to read and listen to sermons and face my past. I know I'm changing and growing as a result, I just don't know all that God wants to do within me or around me in this time.

I don't know, but I'm confident He does.

For whatever reason(s) He has, I've been on this journey these past months and Jamaica has very much everything to do with where I am right now. . . and where I'm going in the future.

In this moment, my heart is overflowing with things that God is showing me--many of which He's placed in my lap over and over again to get the message to break through.

I don't know that I'll get to share them all--or even that I should!
I don't know if they'll make sense or get into your heart like they've begun to sink into mine. . . I don't know where your own journey has taken you today.

Just as I don't know if I'll end up in Jamaica again.

But I'm believing God. And that, my friends, is so so much bigger than anything I don't know.

Thanks for reading and Lord willing, I'm going to keep on posting some of the many things He's showing me. Expressing them here allows me to reaffirm and apply the lessons in ways I can't begin to explain.

God bless you and keep you this week!

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever! Amen.

Ephesians 3:20-21

Learning to Walk Again

"The concept of walking is so basic that perhaps you've never considered what walking entails. Think about how simple it is: You don't have to know exactly where you're going; it doesn't require any planning; all you have to do is put one foot in front of the other." 

Francis Chan

Isn't that the truth? (Barring all of you PT trained people out there who can tell me all about the intricate details of the stance and swing phases of gait, how the whole body reacts to make it happen, and like me, notice when something is off whether you want to or not . . .)

Be honest with yourself. Where did you just walk from (or to) before you started reading this? Did you even think twice about how you went from one place to the next? Likely not.

My mom tells me that at 11mos old, I would only attempt to take steps when I thought no one was looking. It wasn't until after I'd perfected the task in those so-called private sessions that I began to gracefully walk all the time, no matter who was present. Even at that young age I liked to present a complete, well put together picture.

Learning to walk at 26 is much different than at 11mos. There's no escaping the public eye and there's nothing graceful or hand-clapping cute about it either. I’ve been a mess!

Doctorate in physical therapy or not, it still came as a surprise that the true first thing, first challenge if you will, in learning to walk again, was actually learning to put my left foot on the ground in preparation of a step. After weeks of training it not to do that very thing, well, it's tougher than you realize. Getting that left foot to the ground involved convincing more my uninjured knee, than my booted ankle, that it was up to the task. Praise the Lord for a quick learning neurological system.

Yes, I'm like my own little PT project.

After getting my left foot to the ground, it was a matter of trust. My body and mind in no way wanted to shift my weight over to that side, even with the boot on and one crutch in hand. What if it hurt? Would my knee buckle? What would happen if I fell again and had to start all over? Why not keep the weight on the good leg, the one we trust? I didn't really need to take a step with the left foot too did I? Fears, fears, fears. . .

After finally conquering a form of the general left, right, left there was a matter of finding a pace. My stir-crazy side was ready for a jog. Truth be told, though, there has been no other but sloooooow; no running, jumping, or coordinated fast walking. (It's pretty humbling when the grandmother-type with a cane schools you. . . over and over again.)

A week in late February marked the first in 11 weeks that I'd left the house without crutch, splint, or boot. I remember feeling completely vulnerable. Walking was, and still is, uncomfortable!! Not the act of walking, necessarily, but rather these fears inside of me. I don't like to show weakness and now there is no longer an easily visible reason why I can't do something, why I’m slow and have a limp, or why I have a death grip on the railing walking down that ramp. I also find myself confronted with uncertainty of what will, could, or should happen every time I go to put my foot on the ground,; afraid that if I’m not paying enough attention, I'll make an unconscious move that will do me in (i.e. jumping down from the bleachers, pivoting to get on to the weight machine).

The same day I was allowed to dispose of the boot, I happened to look back on the weeks surrounding my initial injury in my prayer journal, and the weeks that have followed since. I’ve wrestled; I’ve argued; I’ve laid down my worries and fears only to pick them up and question, and then lay them back down all over again. I've been impatience and full of praise, fearful and trusting, restful and frustrated.

It's been a journey, but in all of it God has constantly reminded me that the walk of faith is no different than the actual physical act of walking. No matter how much you break it down, freak out, or try to jump ahead, walking is walking. It must be done one step at a time.

Really. Let me say it again: The only way to walk, whether by faith or to the kitchen, is one step at a time.

We can get so caught up in the details of the big picture that we lose sight of the fact that God is simply calling us to walk. Just as we’ve unconsciously trusted our bodies from the time we were little to put one foot in front of the other, so must we put our whole belief in God in every spiritual step that we take.

He doesn't call us to be perfect before we try it out. In fact, He wants us to wholly believe that all of those other details (finesse, pace, trust, vulnerability) are safe and blessed in His hands.

It won't necessarily be easy, but we can always put one foot in front of the other.
Come on. Let’s take a walk.

Whitie. Crutches. Boot. Christ?

Do you ever feel the need to simply blend in, to"get lost in the crowd"?

My whole life, I've never liked to stick out. In Jamaica, the color of my skin left me no choice. Everywhere I went I stood out--from the clinic to the community, walking to the store or driving the car--there was no escaping looks, stares, or turning heads. Blending in was but one of the many things I looked forward to in coming home to the States for the holidays. God had other plans. Turns out a pair of crutches and a splinted foot will earn you just as many comments, questions, and stares. Progressing from crutches to a walking boot, and today, a limping ankle brace and you still get  outright stares and comments 11 weeks later.

My heart has recently been challenged to wonder if  these people around me see just a girl with white skin who hurt her foot, or do they see Christ alive in me too? What's more is this question that was posed the other week: "If GOD truly lives in you, shouldn't you expect to be different from everyone else?"

My skin, the crutches, the boot, now a limp. In all of this, the focus has been brought back to me. Me, me, me. When I know that it should be on Him. Verbally, I'm extremely comfortable talking about where I work, my injury, surgery, rehabilitation, etc. I'm not as ready, after being asked who I work for or how I'm making it through, to put Jesus in the mix. . . even though I know, personally, and have even been reassured time and again, just how completely God is in all of this. The fear of an awkward conversation, judgment, or even an outright attack often have me hold my tongue. It saddens my heart, but it's the truth; I let that fear drive my actions. And how silly to hold my tongue, especially to complete strangers who I may never see again! How silly to grieve the Holy Spirit and not speak His name, of His goodness and love in this journey!

1 John 3:18 reads "Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth." It's not just my speech that should share Christ. No, more importantly, the way that I live, my actions, should speak God to those around me.

We are made new in Christ, when we ask Jesus into our hearts to save us. His Spirit who dwells in us, lives inside of you and me every day, continues to transform our hearts and our lives bringing into them true peace and hope. I don't want to face life's issues and circumstances in exactly the same way as someone without the Spirit of God. I don't want to just “barely hang on” to each day just to make it through. I want to be transformed. And in that transformation, even in the journey of it, let His love shine out in how I go about my day

This is one of many things I've been convicted of this week . . . even though it's nothing truly new, it's finally hitting home. God's given me such a unique story to tell in just the last year alone. While I may be limited currently in how I have been serving, it shouldn't stop me from sharing His love and in living it out. God has, without a doubt, been my rock and my shelter through this past year, no matter how close to the pit I've felt. I find such peace in knowing that even though I don't understand a wit of what's going on or going to happen, He's got the rest of my life in His hands and His Spirit inside of me is walking me through each and every day. Whatever bold steps or bold words are required to share of His love and faithfulness, I know, that no judgment or awkwardness even comes close to the sense of fulfillment and joy in following the Spirit's leading.

It is truly when I live a life characterized by walking with the Spirit, transformed, that people will begin to look not at me but to our Father in heaven and give Him the praise.

"I don't want my life to be explainable without the Holy Spirit. I want people to look at my life and know that I couldn't be doing this by my own power. I want to live in such a way that I am desperate for Him to come through. That if He doesn't come through, I am screwed. (I probably shouldn't write that word here, but it's how I truly feel about this.)" 

Francis Chan

Give Me 6!

It's far past time for a personal update to those of you still reading this . . . so give me 6 minutes of your time to relay 6 going-ons in my life as of now . . . You're a speed reader right?

1) Walking! Gym! PT! I get to do all three of those things again! It's freeing, and although I remain more limited than I'd like --walking in a boot, weak, and with little endurance to go off of-- it's coming together. I'm constantly reminded, even by strangers at the gym referencing their own "boot" stories, to be thankful and praise God for the ability to heal and walk again. Each new activity I successfully complete -- like going down the stairs without a railing-- and each new spot of soreness brings about another thing I have to be thankful for!

2) Girls High School Basketball. Every Tuesday and Friday, night that's where you'll find me from 5:15-9:00pm. My mom refers to this as penance for all the games my sisters, Kels a junior and Grace a senior this year, sat through in my own career. While neither sister is the standout star on their team, I'm more than proud of the efforts, perseverance, and heart they continue to show. Both JV and Varsity have had extremely successful seasons (Varsity is dominating their league and rated 8th in the state) and it brings back many memories of my own time in each of these gyms! It's hard to believe my baby sisters, along with other friend's baby siblings are all grown up and creating memorable court moments of their own! I won't deny how old it makes me feel, either! :)

3) Family Time. I haven't been home for this long since high school. While it's often challenging to remember for both my parents and myself that I'm no long 18, it has also been a rewarding, challenging, learning, and blessed few months. Deep down, this is time I know that I will cherish for many years to come. I never imagined I'd be helping my sisters with anatomy homework, college essay writing, or you know, getting addicted to and watching every episode of Bones. My parents and I have had to face issues--often brought on by my stubborn independence--that we have often chosen to ignore in the past, and as a result I find myself opening up from my heart even more than before. Then there's the valuable time and moments with extended family, celebrating birthdays, giving PT advice, comparing ankle scars, watching games, etc etc. Praise God!

4) Pet Sitter. That's what I feel like when my 16yo cat chooses to use the bathmat as her litter box or our other cat climbs the screen to let me know he needs back in. It's what happens when I get left home all day with our four animals, two cats and two dogs, to keep me entertained. The dogs, Fitz and Bella, at 80 and 50 lbs respectively keep me occupied in adventuring chases as they come up with new ways to escape our 2.5 acres and run off into the neighboring "no trespassing" woods. I'm lucky if I'm able to catch them 20 min later by the roadside, sopping wet and muddy . . . Scolds are often useless as they point their big charcoal black eyes of innocence at me. I find myself often wondering who the real pet is here . . .

5) Playing Guitar? While I've been rocking out on my glittery purple electric guitar on RockBand for over a year now, I recently acquired a real, live acoustic guitar from my brother and many guitar dummy books from the library---from which the librarian glanced down at my foot and said, "Oh, this makes sense." It's been slow going so far, but I am slowly learning my way into guitar playing! The days I want to quit because I feel I won't ever succeed, I'm reminded that even this is something I have to continue to trust the Lord in, and in doing so, continue to persevere. 

6) Holy Spirit! My parent's church is studying Acts currently, and along with that my grandma, mom and I joined a biblestudy going through Francis Chan's book Forgotten God which focuses on the Holy Spirit (love this guy's insight from his first book Crazy Love to this current one!). This couldn't have been more God sent for this time when I need it the most. I continue to be awed by what He's doing in my heart and in my life, as well as, finding myself reflecting on so much of the past, present, and future with new eyes. The Holy Spirit is powerful and very much alive in our everyday lives, my friends!! I can't wait to share more on this in weeks to come!

Power Behind the Request.

The day before I left Philadelphia, a friend and I ended up having a discussion about the power behind a request. It came up as something as simple as washing the dishes. We all had our parents tell us to cleanup after a meal, clear the table, wash the dishes, etc. If you were at all like me growing up, you may have all to often put up a fight and then ended up grudgingly doing those dishes, grim-faced, without joy. It was a chore, not an act of serving or helping. Then there are other cases where, like that night, my friend saw a need and offered to do the dishes, smile on his face and without a second thought. I can think of many times growing up and still to this day, where I willingly do the dishes, as well, without a second thought, no grudges or tempers to be held, no matter how many or how long it takes me to do. Why does the same task cause such different responses? Washing the dishes or fetching a glass of water are simple things, yet can often flip a switch with our attitudes. Doing something grudgingly or unwillingly often puts me in a poor mood for some time. On the other hand, enjoying my task at hand, seeing it as serving, loving on another will often uplift my spirits. As discussed that December evening, it often comes down to the power driving the request.

In the past six weeks at home with my family this discussion has continue to be in my thoughts. Those first weeks back I was extremely dependent on the four of the people in my family to get through each day. I can't even begin to count the times I asked someone to get me a glass of water, carry my laptop to my room, wash my clothes, carry my purse, etc etc. Yet my family did it without complaint no matter how busy or caught up they were with their own tasks; no matter how frustrated I sounded, how much attitude I gave, or how relentlessly annoying I was in my frustration of my inability to help. They did what was requested out of love for me, pure and simple

Love is as patient as it needs to be. Love is kind. Love does not envy. It does not boast. Love is humble and serving. Love respects; it is not rude. Love is not self-seeking but puts others first. Love fulfills needs. Love is not easily angered. Love does not begrudge, but keeps no records of wrongs. Love rejoices in the truth. Love always has your back, building you up, always protects. Love always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres inspite of, not because of. Love never fails. Love drives out fear, for there is no fear in love.

I'm sure you've heard these words before. These words describing love (found in 1 Corinthians 13 and 1 John 4) are powerful. Yet when was the last time you broke them down one-by-one into your own life? We should mediate on them daily!! As I've slowly regained my independence and relinquished my crutches, I find my heart humbled at these subtle reminders of the power of love. Everything else falls short no matter how small or large the task. Love is the ultimate power behind a request.

Poverty.

What comes to your mind when asked to define the word poverty?

Little to no money, clothes, and/or food are the first things to pop into my mind, followed closely by third-world communities and the needy. Those were my thoughts, at least, until I heard these words on the radio the other day: 

"Poverty is the result of hopelessness."

Those few words got me thinking. . . A lack of finances and material possessions merely scratch the surface of the word "poverty" don't they? I know plenty of incredible impoverished people, who are poor enough to need constant help from others, yet, live out each day with smiles on their faces and joy in their hearts. They may have had a stroke that leaves them unable to function on their own, let alone support their family. They may wear the same clothes four times a week and bathe once or twice in that same time. They may not have electricity or running water in their house. They may not know how they're going to pay for their medication that runs out tomorrow, or if there will be food on the table. BUT, they will come up to greet you, thanking God for the gift of simply being alive to see the day. They live lives of faith; trusting in the unknown, praising something greater than them, than this world. There is no poverty in that. There is hope.


While I could easily expand upon this topic, I'm going to leave it at that.

There are very real needs in the world today, needs, deficiencies, shortages, scarcities, etc of the basic essentials of life that I'm not trying to overlook. However, needs, just as poverty, don't stop at finances, material possessions, or third-world countries. Poverty comes in all shapes and sizes. I  pray today that your faith is big enough to richly overcome any impoverished area of your life, and that you would continue to uncover pockets of hope that fulfill the depths of your heart, mind, body and soul.

Perspective.

Think of a scenario that makes you anxious. Perhaps it's flying. Or driving in the city. Or speaking in front of 200 people.

Tying each of those three scenarios with the word "anxious", nervousness, worry, and fear comes to mind. However, by replacing the word "anxious" (uneasy and apprehensive about an uncertain event or matter; worried) with "anticipate" (to look forward to, especially with pleasure; expect) and you've created a completely different person--even with those same three scenarios. Just by changing the perspective, anxious vs. anticipate. 

Be careful what you pray for.

For weeks in Jamaica my heart cried out to God for a change in perspective. I was tired of listening to lies, fears, worries, and doubts. Tired of seeing things from an anxious point of view. There was so much blessing and good out there, so much to anticipate; yet, day in and day out, no matter how much I laid down before God I kept falling back into an anxious state. I couldn't understand why my heart, despite my weeks of prayers, wouldn't find the good above all the rest.

On December 4th, God literally knocked me on my butt with a perspective change.Of course, it took me weeks to see it as such, yet here I am today, reveling in more and more change each day as my eyes are opened and I continue to wait for my foot to heal.


Those first three weeks after the injury I longed to be able to stand and shower. Suddenly a cold, short shower in Jamaica held great appeal. I simply wanted to be able to have the option of "rinsing off" and showering. Now that I have that option, I marvel at how much more time it takes me to get ready in the morning simply because I can't put weight through my left foot!

My stubborn pride and independence literally gets knocked in the rear these days, every time I try to go through a door--on crutches--without help. The heavy glass door at my dad's office is example number one. I got a good smack with it this morning . . . Got it, Lord. Just one example of how He's breaking down my independent walls.

Those last weeks in Jamaica I cried out that I needed more support and where was it!?! My eyes were blind. Since Dec 4th, I've been constantly surrounded with physical, emotional, and living support. Somebody to make me food, do my laundry, drive me to town, carry my purse, reach into the low cupboard, carry a glass of water, turn off the lights, etc.


In those months in Ridge I learned many lessons in giving, in helping and sadly, from my anxious perspective, began to tell God that I couldn't give anymore, I was all wrung out of giving. There became too many days where I told Him I'd done enough and wouldn't be giving much more unless I received something in return. Being on the other end today, needing to take and take and take without being able to give back, has certainly been working on my heart. I'm overwhelmed at not only the generous and loving hearts of my friends and family, but renewed by the giving and help of complete strangers as well.

I've begun to see the world from a different height as well, needing to sit when others stand, unable to reach the high shelves I've always taken for granted. Being tall has never felt so good!

I miss the ability to be able to stand and walk, even at a Jamaican pace. How easily something so "simple" is taken for granted! And unbelievably enough, I long to run, and run, and run.

The patient vs. PT within me continue to battle it out day by day. Despite years of schooling, I find myself contemplating going up and down stairs, conquering ramps, getting off the couch, going the distance through the grocery store, etc with new eyes.


I have been blessed with opportunity in this time as well. I had a choice of surgeons and phenomenal medical care. Thanks to new healthcare reform I was placed back on my parent's more extensive medical insurance in November through February, and have a peace about the money part of this, headache or not. I was able to change my travel plans and continue to have transportation.


I'm learning to enjoy what I have at hand, while I have it now. Whether it be time with my family, time in my hometown, time to simply be enjoyed, a certain food item (i.e. salsa and chocolate chips--though not together), easy drinking water, a closet full of clothes, a good book, etc. It's not about holding onto it and saving it for tomorrow or when I get better, nor is it being bitter about what I can't do or where I'm not. It's about savoring what's in front of me, around me, in my hand now. God is good!
 
One of the biggest changes God has made within me, hands down, is how much I long to be back in Jamaica . . . like I haven't in months. Sure, some of the anxiety and fears are still trying to linger somewhere in my thoughts, but overall, so much of the issues and worries of the past seem simply that, in the past. The bigger picture of being able to impact the lives of those in St. Elizabeth, being able to serve God and show others His love, has been thrown front and center again. I long to see my Jamaican friends, love on them, and check in on their lives. I'm yet again anticipating helping, serving and having the ability to return with a joyful, giving heart should the Lord will it.

God answers prayers in mysterious ways, my friends. Rarely in ways that we foresee, but He's always at work! I pray that your perspective is one of anticipation!