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.