One of the most wonderful aspects of losing weight, becoming fit, and growing healthier is that I am finally, finally, finally externally revealing the internal truth that has grown inside of me for the past decade: The medical model that says disability is something abnormal, defective, broken, in need of fixing is totally messed up. The truth is that disability is part of the normal range of humanity, it is challenging, at times, to be sure, but a person can lead a very full, healthy, life with wonderful relationships, purposeful work, and creative play. People with disabilities are normal. The medical model is a lie that kills the spirit and ruins lives.
When I am rolling down at the river, in my black, racer-back tank top that reveals my tanned shoulders, rippling with lovely (feminine) muscles, I can't imagine anybody would see me as dis-abled. Surely they see power, grace, efficiency, tenacity.
When I was 80 pounds heavier, I was a "rolling" billboard that seemed to support that medical model of disability. Even while feeling extremely competent and whole internally, the exterior did not match who I had grown to be. I could talk a blue streak about healing and wholeness, but my message lacked veracity when the external "proof" seemed to be lacking.
Finally, the exterior "me" is beginning to catch up to the interior "me". I grow increasingly and *visibly* strong and attractive. Now, I combat the medical model of disability just by going about my life. Now, I may just have a message to deliver that people will be able to hear.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Spewing Joy all Over the Place
Second post today... when you have so much brimming over from inside, it has to spill over somewhere... this seems a good place to allow the overflow of joy.
On Monday, three short days ago, I was deflated after hearing "no" from Sojourners to my application for an internship. Within a short matter of hours, though, things began to turn on a dime, and I am seeing MORE opportunities arising and doors opening than I know what to do with.
On Monday, I complained to a friend that I am like a bottle of soda that's been shaken, and I have all this tension, passion, desire for ministry inside me and it's building to the point of painful pressure. He asked a great question (as he is wont to do!): What do you suppose is the cap on the bottle? And I replied, "Other people who won't let me live fully. Who won't see me as having things to offer. Who won't receive what I have to give. I have the daring and the desire, if people would just give me a chance."
Well, maybe some won't do that, but I have learned with amazed wonder in the ensuing three days, that there are plenty of people who see that I have things to offer and are willing to go very out of their way to foster those possibilities. Professional ministerial types who are not just supporting my exploration of calling, but who are giving me their time, energy,and resources to help me find my path.
I've been offered a part-time job (sorta, almost... we are both wisely praying over it before committing even to an offer, I've been invited to share my story with the youth at my new church and the pastor is spending hours each week helping me find my place of ministry within the Body (he sees me as a leader and is investing in that), I was encouraged today by a new friend and seminary student to pursue seminary or a counseling education. She also strongly encouraged me to apply for a resident chaplain internship at the local university Medical Center.
On top of all this encouragement: I met with the man who is going to repair my vehicle for the cost of parts; I learned that I do have money I can access in a 401-K that could be used for furthering education; renovations have commenced on the office building in preparation for leasing it (extra income stream!)... in short, I see light at the end of the tunnel of financial worries.
And if all that isn't good enough: this was the most beautiful day I've ever seen, especially in contrast to the wild and woolly tornado warning weather of yesterday; my friend A. invited me to go to the beach and camp in her pop-up camper at the end of May (sensing my hesitation, she shared with me that she had a best friend who was a wheelchair user, and she knew exactly what she was offering)and I joyfully accepted; and I participated in a rally to oppose archaic legislation proposed by the state that would make it illegal for an educator to mention homosexuality in the classroom to children younger the High School. Had a lovely time talking with a gay gentleman as we held up signs (mine read: "Standing on the Side of Love") and I got misty, realizing for the first time ever, how wonderful it feels to advocate for those on the margins. I'll be doing more of that in the very near future.
Soooo, from Monday to today... Monday feeling very pinched and constrained. Today feeling like the cap is loosening on the bottle, and beverage is spewing under the seal in every which direction. I think once some of the pressure is released, I'll have a better sense of what direction(s) to pour forth.
I'm in love with my life.
On Monday, three short days ago, I was deflated after hearing "no" from Sojourners to my application for an internship. Within a short matter of hours, though, things began to turn on a dime, and I am seeing MORE opportunities arising and doors opening than I know what to do with.
On Monday, I complained to a friend that I am like a bottle of soda that's been shaken, and I have all this tension, passion, desire for ministry inside me and it's building to the point of painful pressure. He asked a great question (as he is wont to do!): What do you suppose is the cap on the bottle? And I replied, "Other people who won't let me live fully. Who won't see me as having things to offer. Who won't receive what I have to give. I have the daring and the desire, if people would just give me a chance."
Well, maybe some won't do that, but I have learned with amazed wonder in the ensuing three days, that there are plenty of people who see that I have things to offer and are willing to go very out of their way to foster those possibilities. Professional ministerial types who are not just supporting my exploration of calling, but who are giving me their time, energy,and resources to help me find my path.
I've been offered a part-time job (sorta, almost... we are both wisely praying over it before committing even to an offer, I've been invited to share my story with the youth at my new church and the pastor is spending hours each week helping me find my place of ministry within the Body (he sees me as a leader and is investing in that), I was encouraged today by a new friend and seminary student to pursue seminary or a counseling education. She also strongly encouraged me to apply for a resident chaplain internship at the local university Medical Center.
On top of all this encouragement: I met with the man who is going to repair my vehicle for the cost of parts; I learned that I do have money I can access in a 401-K that could be used for furthering education; renovations have commenced on the office building in preparation for leasing it (extra income stream!)... in short, I see light at the end of the tunnel of financial worries.
And if all that isn't good enough: this was the most beautiful day I've ever seen, especially in contrast to the wild and woolly tornado warning weather of yesterday; my friend A. invited me to go to the beach and camp in her pop-up camper at the end of May (sensing my hesitation, she shared with me that she had a best friend who was a wheelchair user, and she knew exactly what she was offering)and I joyfully accepted; and I participated in a rally to oppose archaic legislation proposed by the state that would make it illegal for an educator to mention homosexuality in the classroom to children younger the High School. Had a lovely time talking with a gay gentleman as we held up signs (mine read: "Standing on the Side of Love") and I got misty, realizing for the first time ever, how wonderful it feels to advocate for those on the margins. I'll be doing more of that in the very near future.
Soooo, from Monday to today... Monday feeling very pinched and constrained. Today feeling like the cap is loosening on the bottle, and beverage is spewing under the seal in every which direction. I think once some of the pressure is released, I'll have a better sense of what direction(s) to pour forth.
I'm in love with my life.
Slow Learner
(For G., with regrets)
A blog can be a great source of insights. Reading old posts can reveal patterns, show real growth that's occurred slowly over time, and can reveal entrenched issues.
When I read this post last night,http://paralyzednomore.blogspot.com/2010/12/let.html I was shocked to read the opening paragraph:
Without a doubt, my biggest frustration of 2010, and the biggest life lesson, too, incidentally, is that sometimes, no matter how hard you try or how much you want to work things out with people, they might not want the same thing, and it might not be possible.
And, then this paragraph, that cracked me up (more on that in a minute...):
I have been a bulldog. I detest conflict and relationship ruptures with a vehement passion and probably have been off putting in the past in my zeal to "talk things through." I hate letting things sit unresolved. And, yet, I don't have control of other peoples' free will. (Hey, even God doesn't, and that is some comfort.) This same pattern has developed several times this year, and I may not be totally bright, but, after getting hit over the head a few times with a club, I start to pay attention.
Laughing, sorta..."Oh, REALLY, Lynna, you don't say!" Here I sit in April licking my winds over ANOTHER ruptured relationship that I tried to fix with my steamroller, bulldog persistence. He said he didn't want to work on repair. And rather than respecting that, I tried fifty different angles trying to get him to change his mind. So, a MAJOR life lesson in this for me, is "When do you give up?" I think if the other party says, "NO!", that's probably an appropriate time to accept defeat, grieve the losses, and move on. (Disclaimer... I like the idea, though, that it's not giving up, it's just changing the repair tactics. Rather than a frontal head-on "fix it" approach, a quiet, patient, prayerful "God, help repair this breach" engagement with the conflict can still be active even while being invisible and respectful of the other party's boundaries.)
Sometimes, wellness means I have to sit in the pain of broken relationships. I'm not always good at sitting with the pain, especially when the frustration mounts. My mouth... the one with the sarcastic, biting tongue... can make things worse. Oh, I might momentarily *feel* better for wreaking some pain on the other person who is being so obstinate and hurting me in their refusal to make things better, but, ultimately that momentary release results in long-term spiritual harm.
Pain can be a GREAT teacher and a GREAT motivator of change. My latest experience of a relationship gone south, one that shows no promise whatsoever of having even a crack in the door of being healed, is a huge loss for me. I recognize that my tendency to blame when I am hurt coupled with my refusal to accept anther's "no" for conflict resolution engagement has led to the loss of potentially building a friendship and collegial relationship that would have not only blessed me immeasurably, but it could have been of benefit to the world, through shared calling. If Shakespeare wrote a drama of my life, this would be my tragic flaw.
I'm getting better, marginally, at biting my tongue (to a bloody pulp every once in awhile to keep from flailing it like a rope of barbed wire against the ones I love who are the cause of such pain)and saying, "I don't have control and I just have to wait and hope that things will change someday."
No Control. Waiting. Sitting in Pain. Sucky Life Lessons. But, good lessons to know if one hopes to be well. And I do.
I was slightly awake back in December when I wrote that post. But not awake enough to avoid repeating the same behavioral pattern.
Some practical lessons I can take from this and apply in the future:
1) If somebody says they don't want to work on or be engaged in a relationship with me, it would probably be okay to go back and say, "Are you sure?" and to also express that they always have the option of changing their mind and I will be receptive. (AND being patient and not getting frustrated and angry when they don't avail themselves of that cracked door.So much harder said than done.)
2)LYNNA! NO MORE EMAIL ATTEMPTS AT CONFLICT RESOULUTION. You are a smart woman and you have ample data points to know, email is a very poor means of communicating in the midst of conflict. Repeat after me, dear woman, "Never again. Never again. Never again."
3)I need to grow in my capacity to sit with things not being made right and pray about them instead of acting out.
4)If one email doesn't offer promise of resolution, fifty will just turn a bad situation into a disaster. Get a grip... no more email barrages... ever. Ride your Nustep for ten hours or go outside and scream to the top of your lungs,or whatever it takes to release that frustration, but NO MORE EMAIL!
5)And, no matter how angry and frustrated I am, blaming and sarcastic language might provide a momentary salve, but it creates spiritual ruptures. I need to really delve into "Non-violent Communication" by Marshall Rosenberg that's been queued on my Kindle awaiting attention.
Repentance is recognizing your errors and intentionally moving in the opposite direction. Maybe this time I will do that. I don't want to keep having to mourn dead relationships. I don't want to keep hurting people. I don't want to have to circle back to this lesson again. Please, God, help me get it!
A blog can be a great source of insights. Reading old posts can reveal patterns, show real growth that's occurred slowly over time, and can reveal entrenched issues.
When I read this post last night,http://paralyzednomore.blogspot.com/2010/12/let.html I was shocked to read the opening paragraph:
Without a doubt, my biggest frustration of 2010, and the biggest life lesson, too, incidentally, is that sometimes, no matter how hard you try or how much you want to work things out with people, they might not want the same thing, and it might not be possible.
And, then this paragraph, that cracked me up (more on that in a minute...):
I have been a bulldog. I detest conflict and relationship ruptures with a vehement passion and probably have been off putting in the past in my zeal to "talk things through." I hate letting things sit unresolved. And, yet, I don't have control of other peoples' free will. (Hey, even God doesn't, and that is some comfort.) This same pattern has developed several times this year, and I may not be totally bright, but, after getting hit over the head a few times with a club, I start to pay attention.
Laughing, sorta..."Oh, REALLY, Lynna, you don't say!" Here I sit in April licking my winds over ANOTHER ruptured relationship that I tried to fix with my steamroller, bulldog persistence. He said he didn't want to work on repair. And rather than respecting that, I tried fifty different angles trying to get him to change his mind. So, a MAJOR life lesson in this for me, is "When do you give up?" I think if the other party says, "NO!", that's probably an appropriate time to accept defeat, grieve the losses, and move on. (Disclaimer... I like the idea, though, that it's not giving up, it's just changing the repair tactics. Rather than a frontal head-on "fix it" approach, a quiet, patient, prayerful "God, help repair this breach" engagement with the conflict can still be active even while being invisible and respectful of the other party's boundaries.)
Sometimes, wellness means I have to sit in the pain of broken relationships. I'm not always good at sitting with the pain, especially when the frustration mounts. My mouth... the one with the sarcastic, biting tongue... can make things worse. Oh, I might momentarily *feel* better for wreaking some pain on the other person who is being so obstinate and hurting me in their refusal to make things better, but, ultimately that momentary release results in long-term spiritual harm.
Pain can be a GREAT teacher and a GREAT motivator of change. My latest experience of a relationship gone south, one that shows no promise whatsoever of having even a crack in the door of being healed, is a huge loss for me. I recognize that my tendency to blame when I am hurt coupled with my refusal to accept anther's "no" for conflict resolution engagement has led to the loss of potentially building a friendship and collegial relationship that would have not only blessed me immeasurably, but it could have been of benefit to the world, through shared calling. If Shakespeare wrote a drama of my life, this would be my tragic flaw.
I'm getting better, marginally, at biting my tongue (to a bloody pulp every once in awhile to keep from flailing it like a rope of barbed wire against the ones I love who are the cause of such pain)and saying, "I don't have control and I just have to wait and hope that things will change someday."
No Control. Waiting. Sitting in Pain. Sucky Life Lessons. But, good lessons to know if one hopes to be well. And I do.
I was slightly awake back in December when I wrote that post. But not awake enough to avoid repeating the same behavioral pattern.
Some practical lessons I can take from this and apply in the future:
1) If somebody says they don't want to work on or be engaged in a relationship with me, it would probably be okay to go back and say, "Are you sure?" and to also express that they always have the option of changing their mind and I will be receptive. (AND being patient and not getting frustrated and angry when they don't avail themselves of that cracked door.So much harder said than done.)
2)LYNNA! NO MORE EMAIL ATTEMPTS AT CONFLICT RESOULUTION. You are a smart woman and you have ample data points to know, email is a very poor means of communicating in the midst of conflict. Repeat after me, dear woman, "Never again. Never again. Never again."
3)I need to grow in my capacity to sit with things not being made right and pray about them instead of acting out.
4)If one email doesn't offer promise of resolution, fifty will just turn a bad situation into a disaster. Get a grip... no more email barrages... ever. Ride your Nustep for ten hours or go outside and scream to the top of your lungs,or whatever it takes to release that frustration, but NO MORE EMAIL!
5)And, no matter how angry and frustrated I am, blaming and sarcastic language might provide a momentary salve, but it creates spiritual ruptures. I need to really delve into "Non-violent Communication" by Marshall Rosenberg that's been queued on my Kindle awaiting attention.
Repentance is recognizing your errors and intentionally moving in the opposite direction. Maybe this time I will do that. I don't want to keep having to mourn dead relationships. I don't want to keep hurting people. I don't want to have to circle back to this lesson again. Please, God, help me get it!
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Prepared to Be a Sanctuary
(S)he is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither. Whatever (s)he does prospers. Psalm 1:3
This picture, taken today at my beloved river, was snapped at the exact spot where I used to sit in my car and cry ten years ago. Bereft and unable to see hope for a future, let alone an abundant future, I cried gallons of tears during countless anguished hours beseeching God to help me. At that time, the tree in the photo was just a small sapling, about ten feet tall with just a couple of branches.
I stopped today during my four mile "roll" (I'm driven!) and observed how tall and full the tree had grown and was reminded of this scripture.
Which yields its fruit in season... Whatver she does prospers...
Everytime I have been to the river over the past three weeks (has it really only been three weeks... it has been a sea change that feels like a lifetime ago!), it has felt as though things have gone full circle, from God meeting me on that holy ground in my despair, to God meeting me on that same holy ground and offering me a "church" to pastor.
I was humming, "Lord prepare me to be a sanctuary, pure and holy, tried and true, with thanksgiving I'll be a living sanctuary for you", when I saw a woman just ahead and I knew, even from behind, that she was a friend from many, many years ago. I was almost afraid to call out to her. Her precious 22 year-old daughter had committed suicide about a year ago and loss that deep scares me. But I called, "L...!" She turned and it was her!
We walked the trail together for awhile. I talked about Dolly, sharing memories. Tears welled in my friend's eyes. "Oh dear! I am so sorry, I didn't mean to bring you pain." "Oh, Lynna, so many people avoid talking about her. You are giving me a gift."
We made plans to take lunch to the small and beautiful church memorial garden where Dolly's ashes nourish the beautiful spring flowers, and we will talk more. I want to give L. a listening presence as she tells anything on her heart about her daughter's life.
a tree which yields its fruit in season
As we parted paths, I noticed a man sitting on a motorcycle watching me. From a distance, I thought he smiled a big smile. I went about two additional miles, making the half mile circuit staying close to my car since the skies were darkening. All the while, I noticed he did not move and his gaze seemed to follow my trajectory. As I finished my last lap and started to remove my gloves he hollered, "You are doing great." And flashed a big thumb's up.
I rolled over, intrigued about his interest. (Everybody has a story. Everybody.) He was recovering from several knee replacement surgeries and his own bout with wheelchair use. Here's where it gets interesting... he was a mountain preacher. (We have deep wilderness, coal mining territory near the city where I live, and he had spent decades preaching in those hollers. I imagine the churches as just a step away from snake handling.)
We talked for a long time while until the sun began to set. Talking about curses and blessings and weakness, and wheelchair use NOT being the horror that everybody thinks it must be... and much more. He wants to meet back at the river to share a tape of his preaching and gospel music. (LOL! God is answering my prayer to be exposed to different cultures... this is definitely, again, definitely, outside of my comfort zone and realm of experience! But fun and interesting.)
And as I drove away, I was reminded of my question to Jesus, "Lord, when and where will you use me?" And his whispered response, "here and now".
He is giving me "a church"... Many people will never enter the doors of a church, but many broken, hurting souls head to that peaceful river, just as I did years ago in my own anguish. And all I have to do is pay attention, be available to listen when the opportunities come, and be prepared to love.
Whatever she does prospers
The Muppet Show - The Happy Wanderer
Sometimes the journey up the mountain is fraught with difficulty... and I just LOVE this reminder to LAUGH!!!!!
(Thanks Jake!!)
Closed Doors, A Pity Party, and Fresh Hope!
Yesterday I learned that I was not under consideration for a year-long internship position with an organization in Washington D.C.
And, oh how my heart hurt to read the email... I hadn't realized how badly I wanted that opportunity, that adventure. I wanted my risk-taking to "pay off". Lately, it has seemed like risk-taking has just led to heaping servings of suffering, and I was ready for God to say, "See, Lynna, you just have to persevere. Never stop taking risks, because sometimes they lead to so much joy you can't contain it all!"
Not this time, though.
And I sat at my computer and shed a few hot tears, and allowed myself about an hour to have a pity party. "See, Lynna, you don't really have anything to offer. All you will ever do/be is a sunbathing, govt check drawing gimp. You are washed up. Useless. Cast off."
Adding ire to my pain, my friend A. had asked me to attend a taping that evening of her sermon on Mary Magdalene for her seminary class. One of her final remarks was about paying attention to the intersection between where you have suffered and healed, where the world is hurting, and serving in that intersected space. Being bold and taking risks."Because the world needs more people fully alive!", she ended. And I thought, "Yeh, right. As long as you are able-bodied, young and strong. People won't let me be fully alive!"
BUT A! What do you do when you throw yourself out there, offering your life, and hear "no". How many times do you do that before you give up, before you accept that the "universe" doesn't have plans for you? That you aren't allowed to live fully alive?
Ugh. I wasn't in a very good place, was I?
And within a 24 hour span of time, God has turned that all around... my thinking and attitude, that is! Today, I am in an extraordinarily hopeful place, with the puzzle pieces aligning for a lovely picture of a fulfilling, challenging, EXCITING future...
Stay tuned... will share more later.
And, oh how my heart hurt to read the email... I hadn't realized how badly I wanted that opportunity, that adventure. I wanted my risk-taking to "pay off". Lately, it has seemed like risk-taking has just led to heaping servings of suffering, and I was ready for God to say, "See, Lynna, you just have to persevere. Never stop taking risks, because sometimes they lead to so much joy you can't contain it all!"
Not this time, though.
And I sat at my computer and shed a few hot tears, and allowed myself about an hour to have a pity party. "See, Lynna, you don't really have anything to offer. All you will ever do/be is a sunbathing, govt check drawing gimp. You are washed up. Useless. Cast off."
Adding ire to my pain, my friend A. had asked me to attend a taping that evening of her sermon on Mary Magdalene for her seminary class. One of her final remarks was about paying attention to the intersection between where you have suffered and healed, where the world is hurting, and serving in that intersected space. Being bold and taking risks."Because the world needs more people fully alive!", she ended. And I thought, "Yeh, right. As long as you are able-bodied, young and strong. People won't let me be fully alive!"
BUT A! What do you do when you throw yourself out there, offering your life, and hear "no". How many times do you do that before you give up, before you accept that the "universe" doesn't have plans for you? That you aren't allowed to live fully alive?
Ugh. I wasn't in a very good place, was I?
And within a 24 hour span of time, God has turned that all around... my thinking and attitude, that is! Today, I am in an extraordinarily hopeful place, with the puzzle pieces aligning for a lovely picture of a fulfilling, challenging, EXCITING future...
Stay tuned... will share more later.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Adventure in My Own Backyard
I have wanderlust and a desire to experience other cultures...to be exposed to other races, cultures, worldviews. I'm tired of the same ol', same ol' white bread existence. Some people find comfort in the status quo. I suffocate under it.
And, yet, these past few days have reminded me that being opened to new ideas and experiences is as close as leaving the doors of my home and venturing out into the community.
Certainly, and anybody who reads my blog will know, the new and exciting venture of wheelchair rolling at the river is broadening my horizons at a dizzying pace. I meet no fewer than three new people each time I'm there. (Which translates to about 20 new stories of peoples' journeys each week. Tell me there aren't riches there to mine!) Everybody has a story and they are all fascinating.
Like the smorgasbord of people I meet at the river, my recent religious dabbling has been equally eclectic, wonderfully so, and has yielded a rich and varied experience, particularly during the past week... Holy Week in the Christian faith.
"Weeping for Bullies": the title of the Maundy Thursday service alone captivated me. Couple that with Communion, Foot washing and reflections on suffering offered at a Unitarian Church, and I was "in". It was beautiful, deep, loving, and mysterious, while focused, as the Unitarians do so well, on applying the message of scripture to living lives that are imbued with love and creating societies that are just. It was a perfect setting to experience the community/teaching of the Upper Room.
Friday evening came and I realized that I hadn't researched the Good Friday services in the area. Thinking I would miss that this year, I was delighted when my exercise class leader said, "We are cutting class short tonight because I'm going to Mass. Anybody want to come along?'
YES! ME!! PLEASE, please, please, pant, pant, may I go, too????
Let me tell you... everybody should experience Good Friday at a Catholic church at least once. It was deep and somber, and really brought my attention to a deeper understanding of the sacrifice Jesus made to suffer as he did... for me. There was a huge life size crucifix in the center of the altar area at the end of the center aisle. At a key point in the liturgy, the priests removed the blood red fabric that enshrouded it, to reveal the nearly naked body of Christ hanging there. The congregation was invited to come forward and worship the Savior. And they did. A stream of people lined up to the back of the sanctuary and it went on for a long time. Each person would offer worship as they desired. Some kneeled and literally kissed the feet. Some leaned forward and kissed his ribs. Some touched his cheek. Some parents came forward and bowed down with their little children alongside of them, teaching them to honor sacrifice.
While it was definitely outside of my experiences as a Methodist, it was beautiful to behold so many people honoring Jesus in remembrance of his suffering. It was comforting. (Little side note: People in wheelchairs weren't expected to access that cross. The Priest came around to the "disabled section" with a small - about 18 inch- crucifix for people to show their homage. I'm not Catholic but I felt left out not being able to roll to the "real" Jesus and offer my worship. Sadly, churches are a significant place of marginalization for people with disabilities.)
The Catholic Church was the perfect place to experience Good Friday.
And today,I had the perfect place to experience Easter! I've recently begun attending a new church... one that feels very much like what I've been yearning for for my entire spiritual journey... very much like the early church of Acts. This morning, to celebrate Easter, a visiting choir led worship... an accapella choir of men from Zambia who love Jesus, who sing like angels, and who use their lives to bless others, particularly 250 orphaned children in Zambia whose education they support through proceeds from their ministry.
I am frustrated that I don't have better writing skills to convey the beauty of this service. First, just to have an international element in the Easter service was a beautiful reminded of the universality of salvation. Second, when they talked about being missionaries TO the United States, I wanted to cheer! Third, the spirit of the worship was sublime. When kids and youth started streaming to the front of the auditorium, uninvited yet compelled by the spirit, to DANCE!, I felt like I had entered heaven. (The guys from Zambia said, "We were told years ago that people in the United States dance in worship. This is the first time we have seen this. Wow! How very, very sad... the FIRST time. We need to practice dancing more because we are going to be doing that ALOT in heaven.)
I sat at the back of the auditorium at the top of a fairly steep ramp, and wished I was young and could go dance with them. I had almost mustered courage to do that anyway, when they finished and the pastor came forward to deliver the message. I was sad that I had let an opportunity pass by. NOT! They came back on stage to close out worship with another song! I still hesitated. Not wanting to be foolish. Not wanting to call attention to myself. But wanting to DANCE! I unlocked my brakes and took off down the ramp. Just as I pulled in, they sounded the final notes of the song... AND then led into "Amazing Grace". I held hands, uplifted, with a 5th grader and was so very, very glad for the freedom that Jesus gives me to be foolish.
After worship, the church streamed out into a large area for a party. A feast of food, laughter, shared lives, shared stories. New Testament Church... and this was the perfect place to experience Easter.
Loving the Adventures... Thank you, God.
And, yet, these past few days have reminded me that being opened to new ideas and experiences is as close as leaving the doors of my home and venturing out into the community.
Certainly, and anybody who reads my blog will know, the new and exciting venture of wheelchair rolling at the river is broadening my horizons at a dizzying pace. I meet no fewer than three new people each time I'm there. (Which translates to about 20 new stories of peoples' journeys each week. Tell me there aren't riches there to mine!) Everybody has a story and they are all fascinating.
Like the smorgasbord of people I meet at the river, my recent religious dabbling has been equally eclectic, wonderfully so, and has yielded a rich and varied experience, particularly during the past week... Holy Week in the Christian faith.
"Weeping for Bullies": the title of the Maundy Thursday service alone captivated me. Couple that with Communion, Foot washing and reflections on suffering offered at a Unitarian Church, and I was "in". It was beautiful, deep, loving, and mysterious, while focused, as the Unitarians do so well, on applying the message of scripture to living lives that are imbued with love and creating societies that are just. It was a perfect setting to experience the community/teaching of the Upper Room.
Friday evening came and I realized that I hadn't researched the Good Friday services in the area. Thinking I would miss that this year, I was delighted when my exercise class leader said, "We are cutting class short tonight because I'm going to Mass. Anybody want to come along?'
YES! ME!! PLEASE, please, please, pant, pant, may I go, too????
Let me tell you... everybody should experience Good Friday at a Catholic church at least once. It was deep and somber, and really brought my attention to a deeper understanding of the sacrifice Jesus made to suffer as he did... for me. There was a huge life size crucifix in the center of the altar area at the end of the center aisle. At a key point in the liturgy, the priests removed the blood red fabric that enshrouded it, to reveal the nearly naked body of Christ hanging there. The congregation was invited to come forward and worship the Savior. And they did. A stream of people lined up to the back of the sanctuary and it went on for a long time. Each person would offer worship as they desired. Some kneeled and literally kissed the feet. Some leaned forward and kissed his ribs. Some touched his cheek. Some parents came forward and bowed down with their little children alongside of them, teaching them to honor sacrifice.
While it was definitely outside of my experiences as a Methodist, it was beautiful to behold so many people honoring Jesus in remembrance of his suffering. It was comforting. (Little side note: People in wheelchairs weren't expected to access that cross. The Priest came around to the "disabled section" with a small - about 18 inch- crucifix for people to show their homage. I'm not Catholic but I felt left out not being able to roll to the "real" Jesus and offer my worship. Sadly, churches are a significant place of marginalization for people with disabilities.)
The Catholic Church was the perfect place to experience Good Friday.
And today,I had the perfect place to experience Easter! I've recently begun attending a new church... one that feels very much like what I've been yearning for for my entire spiritual journey... very much like the early church of Acts. This morning, to celebrate Easter, a visiting choir led worship... an accapella choir of men from Zambia who love Jesus, who sing like angels, and who use their lives to bless others, particularly 250 orphaned children in Zambia whose education they support through proceeds from their ministry.
I am frustrated that I don't have better writing skills to convey the beauty of this service. First, just to have an international element in the Easter service was a beautiful reminded of the universality of salvation. Second, when they talked about being missionaries TO the United States, I wanted to cheer! Third, the spirit of the worship was sublime. When kids and youth started streaming to the front of the auditorium, uninvited yet compelled by the spirit, to DANCE!, I felt like I had entered heaven. (The guys from Zambia said, "We were told years ago that people in the United States dance in worship. This is the first time we have seen this. Wow! How very, very sad... the FIRST time. We need to practice dancing more because we are going to be doing that ALOT in heaven.)
I sat at the back of the auditorium at the top of a fairly steep ramp, and wished I was young and could go dance with them. I had almost mustered courage to do that anyway, when they finished and the pastor came forward to deliver the message. I was sad that I had let an opportunity pass by. NOT! They came back on stage to close out worship with another song! I still hesitated. Not wanting to be foolish. Not wanting to call attention to myself. But wanting to DANCE! I unlocked my brakes and took off down the ramp. Just as I pulled in, they sounded the final notes of the song... AND then led into "Amazing Grace". I held hands, uplifted, with a 5th grader and was so very, very glad for the freedom that Jesus gives me to be foolish.
After worship, the church streamed out into a large area for a party. A feast of food, laughter, shared lives, shared stories. New Testament Church... and this was the perfect place to experience Easter.
Loving the Adventures... Thank you, God.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
My Easter Prayer
As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. Ephesians 4:1 (NIV)
I am having trouble getting past the first six words of this passage in Ephesians. "As a prisoner for the Lord"... Have I EVER thought of myself this way? As a prisoner for the Lord? Not so much, I think.
A follower: Yes.
A disciple of the Lord: Yes
Sometimes even a servant of the Lord.
But a PRISONER... I retain much too much of my own self-will and self-determination to remotely begin to envision I am imprisoned in death to self and alive to life in Jesus.
That's too bad because being a prisoner for the Lord is probably the most liberating possible stance a person can make. Maybe that will be my Easter prayer, "Take me captive. Please, even if I resist!"
Speaking of Easter Prayers: I was thinking today how many Christians spend the forty days before Easter, the season of Lent, in prayer, fasting and supplication. This is a time of preparation for Easter... to willingly enter into suffering, deprivation, the cross. All of which makes Easter all the more triumphant in conrast... Easter with resurrection, LIFE, triumph over death.
Easter: Besides a day to worship in a beautiful church service, hunt for eggs, eat ham, enjoy coffee (or chocolate or all those other things we gave up for Lent), I want to make Easter something more this year.
I want to look upon it as New Year's Day. The day I sit back and take stock of my life. How am I doing in living up to the sacrifice Christ made for me? How am I doing in living a life of radical faith and radical obedience? Who am I serving? How am I growing (or receeding) in perfection? What goals would Jesus have me set for myself this year?
By asking those questions, and drafting goals, that seems like the real way I need to worship Jesus tomorrow on Easter. My songs of praise and prayers are nice, but I think he really wants my life. Maybe this year, I'll surrender more of that to my King who surrendered all for me.
I am having trouble getting past the first six words of this passage in Ephesians. "As a prisoner for the Lord"... Have I EVER thought of myself this way? As a prisoner for the Lord? Not so much, I think.
A follower: Yes.
A disciple of the Lord: Yes
Sometimes even a servant of the Lord.
But a PRISONER... I retain much too much of my own self-will and self-determination to remotely begin to envision I am imprisoned in death to self and alive to life in Jesus.
That's too bad because being a prisoner for the Lord is probably the most liberating possible stance a person can make. Maybe that will be my Easter prayer, "Take me captive. Please, even if I resist!"
Speaking of Easter Prayers: I was thinking today how many Christians spend the forty days before Easter, the season of Lent, in prayer, fasting and supplication. This is a time of preparation for Easter... to willingly enter into suffering, deprivation, the cross. All of which makes Easter all the more triumphant in conrast... Easter with resurrection, LIFE, triumph over death.
Easter: Besides a day to worship in a beautiful church service, hunt for eggs, eat ham, enjoy coffee (or chocolate or all those other things we gave up for Lent), I want to make Easter something more this year.
I want to look upon it as New Year's Day. The day I sit back and take stock of my life. How am I doing in living up to the sacrifice Christ made for me? How am I doing in living a life of radical faith and radical obedience? Who am I serving? How am I growing (or receeding) in perfection? What goals would Jesus have me set for myself this year?
By asking those questions, and drafting goals, that seems like the real way I need to worship Jesus tomorrow on Easter. My songs of praise and prayers are nice, but I think he really wants my life. Maybe this year, I'll surrender more of that to my King who surrendered all for me.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Tread Lightly
As a result of losing so much weight AND becoming more aware of my body, even growing in appreciation of it, I am also growing as a sexual being.
At 250 pounds, the last thing I felt was sexy. The last thing I thought about was sex. I thought that I was out of the game because of my disability, and I think I allowed myself to gain so much weight as a way of shielding myself from that pain. With the pounds as armor, I didn't have to risk rejection.
At 170 pounds, let's just say, I'm getting my "mojo" back, and while this is a huge gift, it is also one that comes with alot of risks and potential to be messy, painful, and even harmful. I would even go so far to say that it has the potential to challenge my faithfulness. Scratch that. It HAS challenged my faithfulness.
When I was so overweight, and so cut-off from my own sexuality, it was difficult for me to understand (and to remember) the temptations people face as hormones and emotions rage. I get it now. And it's messy, isn't it?
Christians are prudes when it comes to sex. We don't talk about it. We just teach our kids not to do it before marriage and that's about the only way the subject comes up at church. (That, and homosexuality.) We don't acknowledge that this potent force stirs in our depths. We don't acknowledge that it has vast potential for harm and for joy. We don't allow each other into those places to share our common humanity, struggles, concerns, joys, fears surrounding sexuality. (Shhh. We don't talk about things like that here. This is holy ground. HUH? Didn't God create sex? Isn't sex probably the most holy ground of all where we enter into something that is akin to the forces of love, creativity, union that are at the foundation of creation and the nature of God? And we don't talk about it!!! Why?)
As I begin receiving back again the gift of my sexuality, it is messy. Who am I? How do I exist in the world? How do I interact with men now? What new boundaries need to be in place? (At 250 pounds and disabled, I never felt a need to concern myself with boundaries, propriety, sending the right signals, etc.) If I smile at a man now, does that carry a sexual charge that it previously did not? As a sexual woman with a disability how does that change how I am perceived and how I should be? How do people do this mating ritual thing in ways that are emotionally, physically, relationally, and spiritually healthy? Little questions.
My first go-around, back in my 20s, with dating, was replete with bad choices. Bad in the sense that my sexual choices harmed my self-esteem and took the good gift of sexuality outside the boundaries God has set to keep it safe, pleasurable, life-giving and a source of joy. In short, I used sex to try to gain affirmation.
I've recently seen that as I enter the dating world in middle-age, I have potential to repeat those exact same patterns from thirty years ago. (I was amazed how similar a recent relationship was to the first one I had at age 18. How can it be that with all the life experiences, wisdom, maturity etc. that I have, I could act, respond,react and make exactly the same mistakes. Have I learned nothing?)
Apparently there are some life lessons that I have not learned, and life is circling back to those places for do-overs. THIS TIME, however, even if I repeat the same patterns, make the same mistakes, do the same harm, I think I am awake, paying attention, and have vastly more potential to grow and to change. Hopefully, I'll make a mistake just ONE time, and eek every iota of wisdom and positive change I can from it.
As I grow comfortable being a sexual being, and dressing and acting in such ways that convey that comfort, how will things change?
There are two big risks:
1) I will risk being sexually attractive and find out that men are not attracted
OR
2) I will take the same risk, find out that (some) men ARE attracted AND FIND OUT THAT OPENS HUGE OPPORTUNITIES FOR PAIN, JOY, AND GROWTH. This journey isn't for the faint of heart!
Life was much simpler 80 pounds ago.
At 250 pounds, the last thing I felt was sexy. The last thing I thought about was sex. I thought that I was out of the game because of my disability, and I think I allowed myself to gain so much weight as a way of shielding myself from that pain. With the pounds as armor, I didn't have to risk rejection.
At 170 pounds, let's just say, I'm getting my "mojo" back, and while this is a huge gift, it is also one that comes with alot of risks and potential to be messy, painful, and even harmful. I would even go so far to say that it has the potential to challenge my faithfulness. Scratch that. It HAS challenged my faithfulness.
When I was so overweight, and so cut-off from my own sexuality, it was difficult for me to understand (and to remember) the temptations people face as hormones and emotions rage. I get it now. And it's messy, isn't it?
Christians are prudes when it comes to sex. We don't talk about it. We just teach our kids not to do it before marriage and that's about the only way the subject comes up at church. (That, and homosexuality.) We don't acknowledge that this potent force stirs in our depths. We don't acknowledge that it has vast potential for harm and for joy. We don't allow each other into those places to share our common humanity, struggles, concerns, joys, fears surrounding sexuality. (Shhh. We don't talk about things like that here. This is holy ground. HUH? Didn't God create sex? Isn't sex probably the most holy ground of all where we enter into something that is akin to the forces of love, creativity, union that are at the foundation of creation and the nature of God? And we don't talk about it!!! Why?)
As I begin receiving back again the gift of my sexuality, it is messy. Who am I? How do I exist in the world? How do I interact with men now? What new boundaries need to be in place? (At 250 pounds and disabled, I never felt a need to concern myself with boundaries, propriety, sending the right signals, etc.) If I smile at a man now, does that carry a sexual charge that it previously did not? As a sexual woman with a disability how does that change how I am perceived and how I should be? How do people do this mating ritual thing in ways that are emotionally, physically, relationally, and spiritually healthy? Little questions.
My first go-around, back in my 20s, with dating, was replete with bad choices. Bad in the sense that my sexual choices harmed my self-esteem and took the good gift of sexuality outside the boundaries God has set to keep it safe, pleasurable, life-giving and a source of joy. In short, I used sex to try to gain affirmation.
I've recently seen that as I enter the dating world in middle-age, I have potential to repeat those exact same patterns from thirty years ago. (I was amazed how similar a recent relationship was to the first one I had at age 18. How can it be that with all the life experiences, wisdom, maturity etc. that I have, I could act, respond,react and make exactly the same mistakes. Have I learned nothing?)
Apparently there are some life lessons that I have not learned, and life is circling back to those places for do-overs. THIS TIME, however, even if I repeat the same patterns, make the same mistakes, do the same harm, I think I am awake, paying attention, and have vastly more potential to grow and to change. Hopefully, I'll make a mistake just ONE time, and eek every iota of wisdom and positive change I can from it.
As I grow comfortable being a sexual being, and dressing and acting in such ways that convey that comfort, how will things change?
There are two big risks:
1) I will risk being sexually attractive and find out that men are not attracted
OR
2) I will take the same risk, find out that (some) men ARE attracted AND FIND OUT THAT OPENS HUGE OPPORTUNITIES FOR PAIN, JOY, AND GROWTH. This journey isn't for the faint of heart!
Life was much simpler 80 pounds ago.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
God Blows My Mind
God,
The human heart is not designed to hold this much joy. (Oh wait, I'm telling YOU about how humans are designed. OOPS!)
When I was rolling along the river today thinking about how to finance the repairs on my Explorer, were you sitting up there on your throne, shivering with delighted anticipation, knowing what you had orchestrated and how you were about to BLOW. MY. MIND!!!!
Two nice, middle-aged men in a mini-van pulled up beside me and I recognized them from the trail earlier in the week. As we began exchanging pleasantries, they got around to asking if I attended church. Long story short, the driver was the preacher at a small, country, Baptist church. (Usually, the words "small, country, and Baptist" strung together give me hives. I haven't had great experiences with fundamentalist Christians. But these two men... absolute loves. One owned a used car lot. Oh my! I hadn't thought of this... probably the two professions I least trust!)
Long story short... they drove back to the parking lot, examined my Explorer, drove back to where I was still rolling on the trail, and told me that they had a friend/"brother" who would fix my vehicle and only charge me for parts.
I'm praying about how to fix my car. Five minutes later, it's taken care of. And I didn't do one thing to orchestrate it. JUST.PURE. GRACE!!!! AND, I made two new friends, who challenge me to be more careful about the judgements I assign to people.
As if that isn't enough, I rolled past the huge red bus that has been parked at the river for the past few days. I had noticed an African American driver just sitting there for days. Today, the bus door was open.
"Hi there! You've spent a lot of time here recently!"
"I'm from Detroit and driving a busload of college rowers who come here to train. I love this river, it is so peaceful."
We entered a deep conversation about disability, his rheumatoid arthritis, how God had used that to reform his checkered past, and then he said something that Blew.My.Mind: "Curses are sometimes blessings. and Blessings are sometimes Curses."
It was like talking to a mirror of my own journey. How many hundreds of times have I uttered those very words. He told me that he had been watching me and admiring my gumption.
Now, I'm up to three new friends. Baptist Preacher, Used Car Salesman, and (formerly scary, black man from the hood) Bus Driver.
A little way down the trail, I met Dana and her rescue dog, Hogan, and had another lovely conversation.
As I loaded my wheelchair to head home, I felt like I had spent the morning on Holy Ground, sanctuary, church, community. An outdoor cathedral of the Kingdom.
And now I'm home and ready to eat a PBJ sandwich and grab a nap! Exhausted by all the GRACE!
The human heart is not designed to hold this much joy. (Oh wait, I'm telling YOU about how humans are designed. OOPS!)
When I was rolling along the river today thinking about how to finance the repairs on my Explorer, were you sitting up there on your throne, shivering with delighted anticipation, knowing what you had orchestrated and how you were about to BLOW. MY. MIND!!!!
Two nice, middle-aged men in a mini-van pulled up beside me and I recognized them from the trail earlier in the week. As we began exchanging pleasantries, they got around to asking if I attended church. Long story short, the driver was the preacher at a small, country, Baptist church. (Usually, the words "small, country, and Baptist" strung together give me hives. I haven't had great experiences with fundamentalist Christians. But these two men... absolute loves. One owned a used car lot. Oh my! I hadn't thought of this... probably the two professions I least trust!)
Long story short... they drove back to the parking lot, examined my Explorer, drove back to where I was still rolling on the trail, and told me that they had a friend/"brother" who would fix my vehicle and only charge me for parts.
I'm praying about how to fix my car. Five minutes later, it's taken care of. And I didn't do one thing to orchestrate it. JUST.PURE. GRACE!!!! AND, I made two new friends, who challenge me to be more careful about the judgements I assign to people.
As if that isn't enough, I rolled past the huge red bus that has been parked at the river for the past few days. I had noticed an African American driver just sitting there for days. Today, the bus door was open.
"Hi there! You've spent a lot of time here recently!"
"I'm from Detroit and driving a busload of college rowers who come here to train. I love this river, it is so peaceful."
We entered a deep conversation about disability, his rheumatoid arthritis, how God had used that to reform his checkered past, and then he said something that Blew.My.Mind: "Curses are sometimes blessings. and Blessings are sometimes Curses."
It was like talking to a mirror of my own journey. How many hundreds of times have I uttered those very words. He told me that he had been watching me and admiring my gumption.
Now, I'm up to three new friends. Baptist Preacher, Used Car Salesman, and (formerly scary, black man from the hood) Bus Driver.
A little way down the trail, I met Dana and her rescue dog, Hogan, and had another lovely conversation.
As I loaded my wheelchair to head home, I felt like I had spent the morning on Holy Ground, sanctuary, church, community. An outdoor cathedral of the Kingdom.
And now I'm home and ready to eat a PBJ sandwich and grab a nap! Exhausted by all the GRACE!
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
A BIG Goal!!!!!
I was having a little chat with God today while I was rolling at the river trail, complaining that I don't have enough adventure, risk-taking opportunities or lofty enough goals in my life. I realized that was probably a pretty bold conversation to be having with God... kinda like blasting the door off the hinges for all possibilities!
Do I REALLY want God to take me up on that?
The idea flashed through my mind to start training for a wheelchair race! Get out!!! I just started rolling for exercise two short weeks ago, and this dream of training for something substantial, takes my breath. It feels... right.
I googled "wheelchair 10K" and learned that there is a race in Atlanta on July 4. Cool Beans!
Except for one little matter... the qualifying time is 45 minutes. 6 miles in 45 minutes! I'm not even half that fast, and have only covered 3 1/2 miles at one time. And yet, I've just started. Who knows what's possible!!!
And so, tomorrow, I begin training for a 10K. (Did I really write that!) I'm not unrealistic enough to see myself qualifying for the Peachtree race *this* July, but it seems a doable goal with alot of hard work for 2012.
I've always mourned that I couldn't train to run a race. ALL of my former pastors have been marathon runners... and I always watched them with envy. What I am just beginning to realize is that there are many ways to run a race, with wheels providing the means for me to run mine.
Yes, God! I accept the challenge. But only with you as my Trainer whispering in my ear, "Doin' Good!"
Do I REALLY want God to take me up on that?
The idea flashed through my mind to start training for a wheelchair race! Get out!!! I just started rolling for exercise two short weeks ago, and this dream of training for something substantial, takes my breath. It feels... right.
I googled "wheelchair 10K" and learned that there is a race in Atlanta on July 4. Cool Beans!
Except for one little matter... the qualifying time is 45 minutes. 6 miles in 45 minutes! I'm not even half that fast, and have only covered 3 1/2 miles at one time. And yet, I've just started. Who knows what's possible!!!
And so, tomorrow, I begin training for a 10K. (Did I really write that!) I'm not unrealistic enough to see myself qualifying for the Peachtree race *this* July, but it seems a doable goal with alot of hard work for 2012.
I've always mourned that I couldn't train to run a race. ALL of my former pastors have been marathon runners... and I always watched them with envy. What I am just beginning to realize is that there are many ways to run a race, with wheels providing the means for me to run mine.
Yes, God! I accept the challenge. But only with you as my Trainer whispering in my ear, "Doin' Good!"
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Goosepoop: Just a Small Price to Pay
When my kids were young, we loved to go to the playground at the river, except for one little problem: the river is an over-wintering spot for all manner of waterfowl, particularly large Canadian Geese. Large geese who eat alot and... well... crap alot. My kids would beg to go to "Goosepoop Park".
I was reminded of that GRAPHICALLY while rolling down the trail. Happily in the rhythm, pushing against the rubber tire and metal rim of my wheels, feeling the burn, enjoying the exertion, all of a sudden, I FELT something wet, cold, gooey and oh, so green against the palm of my hand. (Yes it felt green. And, indeed it was.) The hazards of wheelchair rolling... if you don't pay attention and roll over goosepoop (or decaying voles deposited at the kitchen door by the cats), it is gonna translate into a handful of gross.
Adding hand-sanitizer to my workout bag! But it's worth it. Very, very worth it! A handful of goosepoop is nothing compared to the joy of being athletic for the first time in a decade.
I was reminded of that GRAPHICALLY while rolling down the trail. Happily in the rhythm, pushing against the rubber tire and metal rim of my wheels, feeling the burn, enjoying the exertion, all of a sudden, I FELT something wet, cold, gooey and oh, so green against the palm of my hand. (Yes it felt green. And, indeed it was.) The hazards of wheelchair rolling... if you don't pay attention and roll over goosepoop (or decaying voles deposited at the kitchen door by the cats), it is gonna translate into a handful of gross.
Adding hand-sanitizer to my workout bag! But it's worth it. Very, very worth it! A handful of goosepoop is nothing compared to the joy of being athletic for the first time in a decade.
Chance Encounter at Panera
An elderly man approached me in the Panera parking lot where I was loading my wheelchair, and he proffered assistance. NO WAY I was going to deny him the opportunity to serve even though loading it is something I do with ease.
The conversation that ensued, easily an hour's duration, was one of those hidden blessings in disability that sometimes drive me to my knees with prayers of gratitude.
My new friend, 93 years-old and struggling with increasing decline and weakness, saw in me a kindred spirit where he could begin to unburden his tormented soul by sharing his depression, rage, fears and a few tears over his losses.
He told me, "99.9% of the people don't see me. But you do."
Indeed Jack, I do. And what I see is a beautiful man, full of wisdom, and tender grace. I see a man who doesn't yet know how tenderly he is held in Love's Arms. I see somebody I want to know and from whom I want to learn. I see future conversations and mutual healing. I see a man who is beginning to learn of the beauty in surrendering to the need to receive. I see a man on an active, wrenching, soul-gripping journey.
God brings such wonderful companions to share my journey up the mountain. Jack, go grab your hiking boots and let's start climbing. Glad to have you along!
The conversation that ensued, easily an hour's duration, was one of those hidden blessings in disability that sometimes drive me to my knees with prayers of gratitude.
My new friend, 93 years-old and struggling with increasing decline and weakness, saw in me a kindred spirit where he could begin to unburden his tormented soul by sharing his depression, rage, fears and a few tears over his losses.
He told me, "99.9% of the people don't see me. But you do."
Indeed Jack, I do. And what I see is a beautiful man, full of wisdom, and tender grace. I see a man who doesn't yet know how tenderly he is held in Love's Arms. I see somebody I want to know and from whom I want to learn. I see future conversations and mutual healing. I see a man who is beginning to learn of the beauty in surrendering to the need to receive. I see a man on an active, wrenching, soul-gripping journey.
God brings such wonderful companions to share my journey up the mountain. Jack, go grab your hiking boots and let's start climbing. Glad to have you along!
Monday, April 18, 2011
Paradoxical Rewards of Rejection!
It took almost losing myself to find deep grounding in myself. A very paradoxical and unexpected benefit to a "relationship" gone south.
Let me explain how I almost gave a man the power that I had suffered so much to obtain over the past decade.
I entered an internet relationship, one not altogether healthy, with a man from whom I seriously desired affirmation of my beauty, worth, courage etc. A man whose own life journey and work in the world closely mirrored my own... the perfect person to affirm all the growth. I wanted him to see me as amazing and to pursue me with abandon. Alas, it was very much a case of "I'm just not into you."
For a few days, I reeled. If this man isn't into me, will there ever be ANYBODY who will be? And then I started projecting: He didn't see me as pretty. He didn't think I was smart enough, capable enough at being disabled, funny enough, deep enough, worthy enough of exploring a deeper relationship.
STOP! LYNNA! You have no way of knowing what he was thinking/feeling or the circumstances of his life. Stop a moment and project some positive responses: He wasn't that into me because I intimidated him with my depth, spirituality, intelligence, passion.
And in the final analysis, I have NO WAY of knowing one way or the other why he pulled back.
And here's a universal truth people: IT DOESN'T MATTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
What does matter, is that I, let me repeat that, I hold the truth of who I am. (God and I, actually.) I am every bit as amazing as I was before this encounter with a man, and, even better, wayyyyy better, I recognize that nobody can ever take that away from me, as long as I don't give it away.
I left this relationship feeling bereft, unworthy and with my self-esteem threatened, and within a matter of just a couple of days, I reclaimed my passion and self-worth in a blaze of light.
And I feel so powerful, lovely, sexy, brave, smart, and all manners of wonderfulness, that I almost don't know this woman. But, trust me, I like her. I like her very, very much, and mark my words, THIS woman has unlimited possibilities for changing the world, AND it's just a short matter of time until an amazing man, heck! until amazing MEN are beating down my door. But in the meantime, I LIVE abundantly and with joy.
PS And it is just the sprinkles on the icing of the cake, that on top of all of these wonderful self-understandings, I have dropped into the next smaller size. Sitting here in size 14 skirt, feeling so much delight in my body that it gives me goosebumps. I never thought I could feel good about my body, let alone, be HAPPY with it!
Let me explain how I almost gave a man the power that I had suffered so much to obtain over the past decade.
I entered an internet relationship, one not altogether healthy, with a man from whom I seriously desired affirmation of my beauty, worth, courage etc. A man whose own life journey and work in the world closely mirrored my own... the perfect person to affirm all the growth. I wanted him to see me as amazing and to pursue me with abandon. Alas, it was very much a case of "I'm just not into you."
For a few days, I reeled. If this man isn't into me, will there ever be ANYBODY who will be? And then I started projecting: He didn't see me as pretty. He didn't think I was smart enough, capable enough at being disabled, funny enough, deep enough, worthy enough of exploring a deeper relationship.
STOP! LYNNA! You have no way of knowing what he was thinking/feeling or the circumstances of his life. Stop a moment and project some positive responses: He wasn't that into me because I intimidated him with my depth, spirituality, intelligence, passion.
And in the final analysis, I have NO WAY of knowing one way or the other why he pulled back.
And here's a universal truth people: IT DOESN'T MATTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
What does matter, is that I, let me repeat that, I hold the truth of who I am. (God and I, actually.) I am every bit as amazing as I was before this encounter with a man, and, even better, wayyyyy better, I recognize that nobody can ever take that away from me, as long as I don't give it away.
I left this relationship feeling bereft, unworthy and with my self-esteem threatened, and within a matter of just a couple of days, I reclaimed my passion and self-worth in a blaze of light.
And I feel so powerful, lovely, sexy, brave, smart, and all manners of wonderfulness, that I almost don't know this woman. But, trust me, I like her. I like her very, very much, and mark my words, THIS woman has unlimited possibilities for changing the world, AND it's just a short matter of time until an amazing man, heck! until amazing MEN are beating down my door. But in the meantime, I LIVE abundantly and with joy.
PS And it is just the sprinkles on the icing of the cake, that on top of all of these wonderful self-understandings, I have dropped into the next smaller size. Sitting here in size 14 skirt, feeling so much delight in my body that it gives me goosebumps. I never thought I could feel good about my body, let alone, be HAPPY with it!
Sunday, April 17, 2011
With Gusto
I'm officially adding an additional layer to the focus of my blog. In the past, it was primarily centered on my journey to lose weight and regain my physical health. While that will be an ongoing journey (lifetime endeavor), there is so much more on the horizon. It's as though getting healthier was doing the legwork to prepare for the next ascent up the mountain.
I have recently taken stock of my life, and I want more from it. While my current state of relaxation (reading, gardening, shopping, rolling at the river, coffee with friends,etc.) is just what the doctor ordered for this very burned-out and hurting former church worker, this was intended as a healing respite, not the end of the climb. I am want to live BIGGER and I want to serve BIGGER. I want to risk BIGGER and love BIGGER!
And SO, I am holding my hands wide open to the "universe"... here I am, God. I think I'm ready, let's climb. Show me the next path.It's so exciting to realize that I can forge ahead with possibilities. Part of my journey, no doubt, will involve obstacles. With a disability, little bumps in the road can be major roadblocks. It is going to be an adventure of tenacity, perseverance, courage, and more than a little creative problem solving and brainstorming.
Going back to school (or to work in Washington) is going to require intentional focus and faith to overcome the challenges (or grace to submit to the challenges that really are beyond me...) giving it my all, and finding contentment in the effort whatever the results may be. And to remain hopeful and seeking. Always seeking. Always moving. Always growing.
Right now, at this wonderful minute, I feel blessed to be disabled. Having a disability makes the journey so much more interesting. It requires me to use my intellect for problem-solving. It fosters a deeper spiritual connection with God, being quite certain of my need in the midst of my weakness. It fosters compassion for self and others. And when God and I climb to new places together, I celebrate all the more the progress for the difficulty it involved in getting there. I am all the more aware that life is a grace-soaked and a daring adventure.
I have recently taken stock of my life, and I want more from it. While my current state of relaxation (reading, gardening, shopping, rolling at the river, coffee with friends,etc.) is just what the doctor ordered for this very burned-out and hurting former church worker, this was intended as a healing respite, not the end of the climb. I am want to live BIGGER and I want to serve BIGGER. I want to risk BIGGER and love BIGGER!
And SO, I am holding my hands wide open to the "universe"... here I am, God. I think I'm ready, let's climb. Show me the next path.It's so exciting to realize that I can forge ahead with possibilities. Part of my journey, no doubt, will involve obstacles. With a disability, little bumps in the road can be major roadblocks. It is going to be an adventure of tenacity, perseverance, courage, and more than a little creative problem solving and brainstorming.
Going back to school (or to work in Washington) is going to require intentional focus and faith to overcome the challenges (or grace to submit to the challenges that really are beyond me...) giving it my all, and finding contentment in the effort whatever the results may be. And to remain hopeful and seeking. Always seeking. Always moving. Always growing.
Right now, at this wonderful minute, I feel blessed to be disabled. Having a disability makes the journey so much more interesting. It requires me to use my intellect for problem-solving. It fosters a deeper spiritual connection with God, being quite certain of my need in the midst of my weakness. It fosters compassion for self and others. And when God and I climb to new places together, I celebrate all the more the progress for the difficulty it involved in getting there. I am all the more aware that life is a grace-soaked and a daring adventure.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Something in the Air
This has been one of those days so full of joy that it almost feels as though Somebody exchanged the normal components of air (Oxygen, Carbon Dioxide, etc.) and replaced them with peace, joy, and contentment, creating something rarified and life-giving.
My daughter, jealous for my time and attention!, invited me to spend the day with her. (Do I recognize how flippin' amazing it is for one's 18 year-old daughter to want that? Heck yeh!)
We started out with lunch at a fun, local restaurant and sport's bar and my daughter proceeded to blow me out of the water with her wisdom. She shared that she has a list of qualities she wants in a husband and that she won't date anybody who doesn't have most of them. She shared how she knows that a relationship grown gradually from the seeds of friendship has the most potential to succeed. She told me how she is finding power in humility. AT 18!!! (By contrast, her mother, 30 years her senior, is only beginning to obtain wisdom like this.) How did she get to be such an amazing and mature young woman!
After lunch, we shopped for dorm items for college this fall and then had appointments to get haircuts. I let Kelly choose my style, a daring act of trust! She chose a cute, sexy shoulder-length style that made my eyes even brighter and showed off my shoulders. All the stylists gushed over the transformation. Kelly declared it "smokin' hot!"
And when we got home, she said, "Thanks, Mom. I had fun."
Oh baby! Me too! Me too!
As if that isn't enough, I realized with crystal-clear clarity (is that redundant?) my path forward. When I was approved for disability last year, I felt like something died inside of me. I have so much to contribute and the last thing I want(ed) to do was to sit home, drawing a government check and wasting away. I think I've made extremely good use of the ensuing time by my focused determination to lose weight and to regain my health. Well, I'm there. I'm healthy, much slimmer, much more accomplished at being independent and adventurous in my wheelchair, and am ready to embrace fresh challenges.
I recently acquired an office building that was part of the world's longest divorce deliberation. Today, I signed a property management agreement with a realtor to lease it. And here was the lightbulb flash! I can use the extra income to assist with expenses of going back to school. I've long known that I have gifts as a counselor and it's time to get the credentials to actually make a living at that! Best of all, once I obtain the letters behind my name, I'll already have the perfect space in which to set up practice, and with room for 3-4 associates if I so desire.
Should know this week if I'm being considered for a year-long internship with an organization in Washington D.C. that would begin this fall. If that doesn't materialize, I will begin taking classes instead. Either option is equally appealing, and feels like an embarrasment of riches.
And, finally, finally, finally, I have a sense of where I'm headed.
My life has never felt more on track and I couldn't have imagined a year ago that I would one day feel this positive and hopeful. This vibrant and alive. This bold and adventurous. This pretty and sexy. This grateful.
My daughter, jealous for my time and attention!, invited me to spend the day with her. (Do I recognize how flippin' amazing it is for one's 18 year-old daughter to want that? Heck yeh!)
We started out with lunch at a fun, local restaurant and sport's bar and my daughter proceeded to blow me out of the water with her wisdom. She shared that she has a list of qualities she wants in a husband and that she won't date anybody who doesn't have most of them. She shared how she knows that a relationship grown gradually from the seeds of friendship has the most potential to succeed. She told me how she is finding power in humility. AT 18!!! (By contrast, her mother, 30 years her senior, is only beginning to obtain wisdom like this.) How did she get to be such an amazing and mature young woman!
After lunch, we shopped for dorm items for college this fall and then had appointments to get haircuts. I let Kelly choose my style, a daring act of trust! She chose a cute, sexy shoulder-length style that made my eyes even brighter and showed off my shoulders. All the stylists gushed over the transformation. Kelly declared it "smokin' hot!"
And when we got home, she said, "Thanks, Mom. I had fun."
Oh baby! Me too! Me too!
As if that isn't enough, I realized with crystal-clear clarity (is that redundant?) my path forward. When I was approved for disability last year, I felt like something died inside of me. I have so much to contribute and the last thing I want(ed) to do was to sit home, drawing a government check and wasting away. I think I've made extremely good use of the ensuing time by my focused determination to lose weight and to regain my health. Well, I'm there. I'm healthy, much slimmer, much more accomplished at being independent and adventurous in my wheelchair, and am ready to embrace fresh challenges.
I recently acquired an office building that was part of the world's longest divorce deliberation. Today, I signed a property management agreement with a realtor to lease it. And here was the lightbulb flash! I can use the extra income to assist with expenses of going back to school. I've long known that I have gifts as a counselor and it's time to get the credentials to actually make a living at that! Best of all, once I obtain the letters behind my name, I'll already have the perfect space in which to set up practice, and with room for 3-4 associates if I so desire.
Should know this week if I'm being considered for a year-long internship with an organization in Washington D.C. that would begin this fall. If that doesn't materialize, I will begin taking classes instead. Either option is equally appealing, and feels like an embarrasment of riches.
And, finally, finally, finally, I have a sense of where I'm headed.
My life has never felt more on track and I couldn't have imagined a year ago that I would one day feel this positive and hopeful. This vibrant and alive. This bold and adventurous. This pretty and sexy. This grateful.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Inspiration
Alot of people with disabilities take offense at being described as "inspirational".
Not me... I like to think that the way I am embracing my life does inspire others to do the same.
While rolling at the river, I estimated that upwards of 500 cars passed by me on the heavily-traveled two-lane road just adjacent to the trail. Some honked and waved. (Probably people who know me giving me "high-fives".) Their greetings made me realize that I am very visible on that trail to wayyyyy more people than the handfuls I meet who are jogging and walking.
And I had a flash of joy realizing that completely unaware, and just by going about trying to live my life fully, I am probably doing more good in the world than I know. How many people driving by see me and think, "Well, look at her. If she can do that from a wheelchair, I don't have any excuses." I imagine more than a few!
Yup, I'll joyfully let you tell me that I am inspiring, but only if you let me come back later and ask what changes that brought. In other words, go beyond being inspired... grab hold of your life!
Not me... I like to think that the way I am embracing my life does inspire others to do the same.
While rolling at the river, I estimated that upwards of 500 cars passed by me on the heavily-traveled two-lane road just adjacent to the trail. Some honked and waved. (Probably people who know me giving me "high-fives".) Their greetings made me realize that I am very visible on that trail to wayyyyy more people than the handfuls I meet who are jogging and walking.
And I had a flash of joy realizing that completely unaware, and just by going about trying to live my life fully, I am probably doing more good in the world than I know. How many people driving by see me and think, "Well, look at her. If she can do that from a wheelchair, I don't have any excuses." I imagine more than a few!
Yup, I'll joyfully let you tell me that I am inspiring, but only if you let me come back later and ask what changes that brought. In other words, go beyond being inspired... grab hold of your life!
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Walk Again????
I've been motivated by curiousity on this journey, too... what is possible strength-wise and ability-wise?
Well, I just learned of another re-gain (of functioning, that is!)
I leaned way forward to pick something up, stood slightly out of my chair, and since I hadn't locked my brakes, it was predictable... I went forward, it rolled backward. I went to my knees. I decided to see if I could stand back up pushing on the bed. It's been a long time since I could do that, but who knows? After losing 80 pounds and a solid year of working out, anything is possible, ehh?
Indeed! It wasn't exactly easy, but it was very do-able.
This has me wondering what functions will be possible after another 40 pounds and focused strength training for my legs? Don't know, but I sure as heck intend to find out!
Well, I just learned of another re-gain (of functioning, that is!)
I leaned way forward to pick something up, stood slightly out of my chair, and since I hadn't locked my brakes, it was predictable... I went forward, it rolled backward. I went to my knees. I decided to see if I could stand back up pushing on the bed. It's been a long time since I could do that, but who knows? After losing 80 pounds and a solid year of working out, anything is possible, ehh?
Indeed! It wasn't exactly easy, but it was very do-able.
This has me wondering what functions will be possible after another 40 pounds and focused strength training for my legs? Don't know, but I sure as heck intend to find out!
Dressed for Success
Uh huh! uh huh! Yeh baby! Uh huh!
Can you tell I am dancing?
Thinking about Kelly's graduation just a few weeks away, I decided to try on the sundress I bought back in December that I hoped to "shrink" into by the end of May for the celebration. I wanted to gauge how much weight I would still need to lose.
And the answer was: NOT ONE STINKIN' POUND!!!! It fit, beautifully, and as I gazed at the sexy woman looking back at me from the mirror, I have never felt more succesful in my life. I am achieving something spectacularly phenomenal. It is hard for able-bodied people to lose weight and get fit, and here I am, a WHEELCHAIR user, losing over 80 pounds, so far, and getting toned, to boot!
Did I mention that I looked GREAT! (smile)
Emboldened by that success, I tried on several other dresses, including one of my daughter's from years ago that she abandoned but I always loved. IT FIT TOO!
Oh yes, this journey is big-time fun!
Can you tell I am dancing?
Thinking about Kelly's graduation just a few weeks away, I decided to try on the sundress I bought back in December that I hoped to "shrink" into by the end of May for the celebration. I wanted to gauge how much weight I would still need to lose.
And the answer was: NOT ONE STINKIN' POUND!!!! It fit, beautifully, and as I gazed at the sexy woman looking back at me from the mirror, I have never felt more succesful in my life. I am achieving something spectacularly phenomenal. It is hard for able-bodied people to lose weight and get fit, and here I am, a WHEELCHAIR user, losing over 80 pounds, so far, and getting toned, to boot!
Did I mention that I looked GREAT! (smile)
Emboldened by that success, I tried on several other dresses, including one of my daughter's from years ago that she abandoned but I always loved. IT FIT TOO!
Oh yes, this journey is big-time fun!
Rolling Empowerment
I can think of little in my life that has ever given me the feeling of empowerment to live abundantly and creatively that exceeds how I feel when I am down at the river rolling on the trail.
Another drop-dead gorgeous morning... cool, sunny, blue skies, emerald green water. Friendly, neighborly cyclists, walkers, joggers... shared smiles and nods and dog petting. Funky looking waterfowl with warty red heads and gnarly yellow feet... so ugly I had to laugh.
While I am rolling, rhythmically pushing my wheel forward while slightly bending forward and back at the waist in order to achieve more forward momentum, I feel like I have control of my life. The captain of my ship. The master of my destiny.
Whereas I know that is largely illusory, we NEVER have full power over destiny, we can affect it, and we can maximize the potential for living fully. I am clearly on a path... an extraordinarily good path... of giving life my best effort, embracing it with gusto, and courageously taking risks (getting hurt some, too, but surviving!) I can only imagine that path will continue to offer growth and enlightenment.
Part of the call for my journey is to continue maximizing the full potential of my body... to see how far I can go, how strong I can get, in balance with the other calls on my life. (That is to say, I could work-out 12 hours a day, instead of 2, but that wouldn't be balanced and other necessary work would suffer. It's all about listening to each day and offering back to it what it asks in that moment for wholeness and abundance.)
As my body grows stronger and healthier, so goes my soul. It is a lovely path, this journey I'm on.
Another drop-dead gorgeous morning... cool, sunny, blue skies, emerald green water. Friendly, neighborly cyclists, walkers, joggers... shared smiles and nods and dog petting. Funky looking waterfowl with warty red heads and gnarly yellow feet... so ugly I had to laugh.
While I am rolling, rhythmically pushing my wheel forward while slightly bending forward and back at the waist in order to achieve more forward momentum, I feel like I have control of my life. The captain of my ship. The master of my destiny.
Whereas I know that is largely illusory, we NEVER have full power over destiny, we can affect it, and we can maximize the potential for living fully. I am clearly on a path... an extraordinarily good path... of giving life my best effort, embracing it with gusto, and courageously taking risks (getting hurt some, too, but surviving!) I can only imagine that path will continue to offer growth and enlightenment.
Part of the call for my journey is to continue maximizing the full potential of my body... to see how far I can go, how strong I can get, in balance with the other calls on my life. (That is to say, I could work-out 12 hours a day, instead of 2, but that wouldn't be balanced and other necessary work would suffer. It's all about listening to each day and offering back to it what it asks in that moment for wholeness and abundance.)
As my body grows stronger and healthier, so goes my soul. It is a lovely path, this journey I'm on.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Good Eatin'
I had the most wonderful time today outside in the warm April sunshine planting this vegetable garden! Several varieties of tomatoes, green peppers, banana peppers, spinach, cabbage, cucumbers, radishes, carrots, and squash!
It was a BLAST! I gave up gardening years ago (the perennial flower-bed kind of gardening, never vegetables)when my disability began progressing. And, oh how I have missed digging my hands into rich loamy soil and tamping soil around seedlings. There is something about growing plants that re-orders the rhythms of my soul.
I few weeks from now, I'll roll onto my deck and harvest a salad every day. Is that the coolest, or what!
It is Well With My Soul
I consider myself blessed beyond measure to have a paved walking trail along this beautiful river about a mile from my home.
Feeling very disquieted in my soul, I was drawn to the peaceful place to recalibrate. As I rolled along the trail, listening to birdsong, observing purple wildflowers that were not blooming a week ago, and dew-glistening spiderwebs, I felt the cares fall away and peace descend.
I was also reminded that other people do not define truth for me and about me. They can certainly affirm what is true, but if their vision runs counter to truth, then it is just background noise. I must not invest my worth or value in another's opinion... ever. (Remember that, please, Lynna!)
I was reminded that I am beautiful, strong, powerful, graceful and a courageous risk-taker. I was reminded that sometimes paths don't lead where we think and we don't have a whole heckuva lot of control. The journey leads where the journey leads. And I was reminded that something worse than hearing "no" after taking a risk, is to never have risked the possibility of the "yes". Taking risks, healthy risks, that is, is an advanced practice of faith, and always leads to growth. Maybe pain, too. But that's the way of it.
And I was reminded that all manner of things shall be well because there is a loving force holding all of Creation and ordering it for love's sake.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Adventures
2011 is the year for saying "yes" to opportunities. (At least the ones that are healthy! "No" is still a good word to remember... not all opportunities must be acted upon, but the ones that are life-giving, even if scary, are gonna get a "yes" from me.)
A couple of interesting opportunities have arisen this past week.
1) I've joined an exercise class! At the first class, I realized that intentionally choosing to move my body in participation with other people has been something I've avoided all my life. The only time I have so engaged was when I was forced to do so (ie gym class) and always with embarrasment and shame that I was so much "less than".
I loved working out with a class full of women... an amazing array of body sizes, shapes, fitness levels, and abilities. All the way from the size 2(?) and obviously fit leader to some significantly overweight ladies and one (that would be me) in a wheelchair.
What was so much fun was the way we all honored each other's journey and recognized that a three-hundred pound woman choosing physical fitness and working for it is something to celebrate... something of great, great value and beauty.
At the first class I attended, when the instructor popped the CD into the player and transitioned from the teaching time to the actual moving part, I felt old anxiety
- residual from those horrific elementary school gym class experiences- bubbling up. Anxiety, shame, embarrasment. In short order, just a manner of minutes, however, I was in the groove and loved moving my body... my amazing and wonderful body... my body not quite as fit as some and not able to do like most... and lovely.
2) Haven't actually done this, but in my heart I've said "yes", so it's coming, probably next week: I'm joining a water exercise class that meets at the Civic Center swimming pool. They have a lift to help mobility-impaired individuals in and out of the pool and handicapped accessible locker rooms. I have a new bathing suit. The planets are aligned. Ahh, chlorine, how I love you. I used to swim laps in college and always loved the chlorine smell... it made me envision Olympic swimmers in swim caps with beautifully muscled shoulders and I always felt strong and lithe after a session in the pool, even if my eyes were bloodshot and aching.
3)And my most daring "yes" to date: I flirted outrageously with an attractive, succesful man and invited him (almost dared him) to hop on a plane and visit my part of the world. We will see what might come of that, but the point is that I had the confidence to reach out for something desirable... and it was deliciously fun.
Loving the adventures...
A couple of interesting opportunities have arisen this past week.
1) I've joined an exercise class! At the first class, I realized that intentionally choosing to move my body in participation with other people has been something I've avoided all my life. The only time I have so engaged was when I was forced to do so (ie gym class) and always with embarrasment and shame that I was so much "less than".
I loved working out with a class full of women... an amazing array of body sizes, shapes, fitness levels, and abilities. All the way from the size 2(?) and obviously fit leader to some significantly overweight ladies and one (that would be me) in a wheelchair.
What was so much fun was the way we all honored each other's journey and recognized that a three-hundred pound woman choosing physical fitness and working for it is something to celebrate... something of great, great value and beauty.
At the first class I attended, when the instructor popped the CD into the player and transitioned from the teaching time to the actual moving part, I felt old anxiety
- residual from those horrific elementary school gym class experiences- bubbling up. Anxiety, shame, embarrasment. In short order, just a manner of minutes, however, I was in the groove and loved moving my body... my amazing and wonderful body... my body not quite as fit as some and not able to do like most... and lovely.
2) Haven't actually done this, but in my heart I've said "yes", so it's coming, probably next week: I'm joining a water exercise class that meets at the Civic Center swimming pool. They have a lift to help mobility-impaired individuals in and out of the pool and handicapped accessible locker rooms. I have a new bathing suit. The planets are aligned. Ahh, chlorine, how I love you. I used to swim laps in college and always loved the chlorine smell... it made me envision Olympic swimmers in swim caps with beautifully muscled shoulders and I always felt strong and lithe after a session in the pool, even if my eyes were bloodshot and aching.
3)And my most daring "yes" to date: I flirted outrageously with an attractive, succesful man and invited him (almost dared him) to hop on a plane and visit my part of the world. We will see what might come of that, but the point is that I had the confidence to reach out for something desirable... and it was deliciously fun.
Loving the adventures...
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Not an Ordinary Workout Session
I awoke early this morning, and not wanting to miss one minute of this spectacularly beautiful April day, I decided to load my wheelchair and head to the river for a "walk" on the trail.
The morning was not at all unlike the mornings a decade ago when I dropped my kids at school, grabbed a coffee at McDonald's and headed to the river for time with God. I say "time with God" and people probably picture head bowed, Bible open, serene time spent with the Father. IT WAS NOTHING LIKE THAT! It was raw and turbulent and painful. I railed at the heavens with my pain over my disability. I asked questions and demanded answers. I yelled. I sobbed. I wrestled. And in the end, I allowed God to just pull me into His arms and hold me, too tired to wrestle anymore. I remember one particularly painful morning at the river, when I rolled the windows up on my car so nobody would hear me, and I screamed, "I HATE YOU!" I was so terribly, terribly angry that my loving Father, or at least the Father I was told was loving, could so callously (as I saw it) withhold the healing of my body that I believed He could accomplish with so much as a whisper.
For months and months, I haunted that stretch of river, sitting in my car, and boldly entreating the great I AM to give me 1)answers 2)healing or 3)strength to surrender and to go on.
All of that flooded back to mind today as I rolled my wheelchair along the trail, and the joy of the morning combined with the pain of previous mornings was almost more that I could hold.
As I rolled along, on this morning so beautiful it made me ache, with sunlight glimmering on the lakegreen water and ducks quacking as I rolled past, and the smell of freshly mowed grass, and the cool spring air caressing my cheeks, and green so vivid it hurt erupting in verdant new life, I was awash with the scripture: Love the Lord your God with all your mind, heart, soul, and strength.
And as I rolled, what I thought would be a exercise session, turned into a prayer. Not even a prayer spoken with words, but just a prayer of love and gratitude expressed through heart and body and spirit.
As I contrasted that former pain with the glorious joy I was experiencing of being freed and healed so much that I told God, "I love this amazing life you've given me, and I love rolling this wheelchair, and I love my body", it was like looking backwards to baptism and seeing life beginning in that moment but finding fulfillment with time.
Do I believe God heard those prayers of that desperate and hurting woman? Do I believe God answered those prayers with healing BEYOND what I asked? Oh, yes.
The best way I know how to describe my experience at the river today was that it was a love poem written by God to me. It is one that I will carefully fold and tie with a pink ribbon and place in the box in my memory where I keep the treasured love letters He has written me over the years.
A two mile aerobic workout AND a love affair with God. Not a bad way to start the day.
(Thank you God)
The morning was not at all unlike the mornings a decade ago when I dropped my kids at school, grabbed a coffee at McDonald's and headed to the river for time with God. I say "time with God" and people probably picture head bowed, Bible open, serene time spent with the Father. IT WAS NOTHING LIKE THAT! It was raw and turbulent and painful. I railed at the heavens with my pain over my disability. I asked questions and demanded answers. I yelled. I sobbed. I wrestled. And in the end, I allowed God to just pull me into His arms and hold me, too tired to wrestle anymore. I remember one particularly painful morning at the river, when I rolled the windows up on my car so nobody would hear me, and I screamed, "I HATE YOU!" I was so terribly, terribly angry that my loving Father, or at least the Father I was told was loving, could so callously (as I saw it) withhold the healing of my body that I believed He could accomplish with so much as a whisper.
For months and months, I haunted that stretch of river, sitting in my car, and boldly entreating the great I AM to give me 1)answers 2)healing or 3)strength to surrender and to go on.
All of that flooded back to mind today as I rolled my wheelchair along the trail, and the joy of the morning combined with the pain of previous mornings was almost more that I could hold.
As I rolled along, on this morning so beautiful it made me ache, with sunlight glimmering on the lakegreen water and ducks quacking as I rolled past, and the smell of freshly mowed grass, and the cool spring air caressing my cheeks, and green so vivid it hurt erupting in verdant new life, I was awash with the scripture: Love the Lord your God with all your mind, heart, soul, and strength.
And as I rolled, what I thought would be a exercise session, turned into a prayer. Not even a prayer spoken with words, but just a prayer of love and gratitude expressed through heart and body and spirit.
As I contrasted that former pain with the glorious joy I was experiencing of being freed and healed so much that I told God, "I love this amazing life you've given me, and I love rolling this wheelchair, and I love my body", it was like looking backwards to baptism and seeing life beginning in that moment but finding fulfillment with time.
Do I believe God heard those prayers of that desperate and hurting woman? Do I believe God answered those prayers with healing BEYOND what I asked? Oh, yes.
The best way I know how to describe my experience at the river today was that it was a love poem written by God to me. It is one that I will carefully fold and tie with a pink ribbon and place in the box in my memory where I keep the treasured love letters He has written me over the years.
A two mile aerobic workout AND a love affair with God. Not a bad way to start the day.
(Thank you God)
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Exercise: How I Love YOU!
I have a significant advantage over able-bodied people in the exercise realm.
Say what?
Yes, I DID say that.
Huh? Advantage? You use a wheelchair... what possible advantage could that offer in the exercise realm? Do you mean you use more energy rolling than walking?
Nope, that's not what I mean, and I'm not even sure if mile for mile I expend more energy than somebody on their feet. The advantage, though, is significant: Because I experienced loss after loss after loss of physical functioning over the past decade, to find that I CAN move my body, and I CAN become stronger, and I CAN have lovely toned muscles and I CAN workout and sweat, and I CAN experience that sweet endorphin rush that comes at about 40 minutes in, and I CAN be an athlete... well... let's just say, I feel sorry for all you able-bodied people who have never known the losses of disability and the re-gains of exercise.
You see exercise as a necessary evil. Something to schedule. Something to trudge through with disciplined determination.
I see it as a best friend. I see it as a daily pleasure. I see it as the best part of my day. I experience it as joy. It is giving me my life and well being back. It is giving me strong muscles. It is giving me a sexy body. It is giving me healthy skin, arteries, and biochemistry. It is giving me self-esteem and it elevates my mood. Exercise is pure, pure grace.
And, for that, I am glad I am disabled else I might never have known this exquisite delight. (I'll try not to pity you people who have to push. smile)
Say what?
Yes, I DID say that.
Huh? Advantage? You use a wheelchair... what possible advantage could that offer in the exercise realm? Do you mean you use more energy rolling than walking?
Nope, that's not what I mean, and I'm not even sure if mile for mile I expend more energy than somebody on their feet. The advantage, though, is significant: Because I experienced loss after loss after loss of physical functioning over the past decade, to find that I CAN move my body, and I CAN become stronger, and I CAN have lovely toned muscles and I CAN workout and sweat, and I CAN experience that sweet endorphin rush that comes at about 40 minutes in, and I CAN be an athlete... well... let's just say, I feel sorry for all you able-bodied people who have never known the losses of disability and the re-gains of exercise.
You see exercise as a necessary evil. Something to schedule. Something to trudge through with disciplined determination.
I see it as a best friend. I see it as a daily pleasure. I see it as the best part of my day. I experience it as joy. It is giving me my life and well being back. It is giving me strong muscles. It is giving me a sexy body. It is giving me healthy skin, arteries, and biochemistry. It is giving me self-esteem and it elevates my mood. Exercise is pure, pure grace.
And, for that, I am glad I am disabled else I might never have known this exquisite delight. (I'll try not to pity you people who have to push. smile)
Monday, April 4, 2011
Body Reverence
I'm weeping as I think about this post. Perhaps the tears flow more freely because I just realized I forgot to take my antidepressant this morning (I'm slowly weening myself and have begun cutting each tablet into fourths, hoping to soon be off antidepressants for the first time in about eight years... but, I digress), or perhaps I'm melancholy after reading beautiful chapters in Barbara Brown Taylor's "Altars of the World", or maybe it's the dark sky, rain and thunder connecting me with God, or perhaps a constellation of all of these, but I am feeling an intense love and reverence for the Word became flesh.
Those of us who call ourselves Christian, in a nation that is predominately self-defined as Christian, so easily, seems to me, share a Madison Avenue world-view about the body when, if we understood God better, we would see our bodies and those of others as something holy. God, (hear this well)... GOD chooses to indwell these vessels of flesh... that alone gives them extraordinary value. God imparts the value. And that is why I weep today. I weep for my blindness that gave ad executives and a broken culture the power to cause me to be disaffected with my body... to loathe it, to loathe other broken bodies (out of fear), and to loathe "perfect" bodies (out of envy). I weep for all the years of misunderstanding that I did not have to be ashamed of my body but I could revere it. (In our culture, writing a statement like that can be so easily misconstrued. We have an entire nation of "body worshippers", but I'm talking about something that is deep, mysterious, lifegiving... it's about revering bodies that are twisted, wrinkled, missing limbs, mottled, scarred, wounded as well as those that are firm of flesh, pink, soft, young, and smooth... a reverence for flesh because it is the creation of God, and even more, unbelievably more... the dwelling place for the Most High God.
I weep out of gratitude for my body, and I weep that I am finally able to love my body... to have holy reverence for my own body and the bodies of others. We are beautiful beyond our limited ability to see, but one day we will see ourselves through God's eyes, and we will weep for the sheer beauty of what we see reflected back to us. And we will weep in repentance for all the ways we rejected the good gift of our flesh.
Help me, O God, to revere that which you hold dear.
Those of us who call ourselves Christian, in a nation that is predominately self-defined as Christian, so easily, seems to me, share a Madison Avenue world-view about the body when, if we understood God better, we would see our bodies and those of others as something holy. God, (hear this well)... GOD chooses to indwell these vessels of flesh... that alone gives them extraordinary value. God imparts the value. And that is why I weep today. I weep for my blindness that gave ad executives and a broken culture the power to cause me to be disaffected with my body... to loathe it, to loathe other broken bodies (out of fear), and to loathe "perfect" bodies (out of envy). I weep for all the years of misunderstanding that I did not have to be ashamed of my body but I could revere it. (In our culture, writing a statement like that can be so easily misconstrued. We have an entire nation of "body worshippers", but I'm talking about something that is deep, mysterious, lifegiving... it's about revering bodies that are twisted, wrinkled, missing limbs, mottled, scarred, wounded as well as those that are firm of flesh, pink, soft, young, and smooth... a reverence for flesh because it is the creation of God, and even more, unbelievably more... the dwelling place for the Most High God.
I weep out of gratitude for my body, and I weep that I am finally able to love my body... to have holy reverence for my own body and the bodies of others. We are beautiful beyond our limited ability to see, but one day we will see ourselves through God's eyes, and we will weep for the sheer beauty of what we see reflected back to us. And we will weep in repentance for all the ways we rejected the good gift of our flesh.
Help me, O God, to revere that which you hold dear.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Rolling on the River
When I was in High School, I loved to jog. I got up every morning and ran before the sun came up, with fog still misting the ground. It was very peaceful, pushing my body forward through the damp pre-morning darkness. I loved that everybody else was still asleep (as determined by the dark windows in the houses along my path) while I was out pushing the limits. I felt a little bit superior to those sluggards. grin.
I haven't jogged in thirty years. Yet, today, I experienced that same feeling of endurance and rhythmical motion by rolling along the river trail in my town. It was an achingly beautiful spring day with sunny,Caribbean blue skies, gentle breezes and lovely 70something degrees. East Tennessee in the springtime is as beautiful as anywhere in the world, and a day like today, rolling along a trail beside a wide river flanked by woods... let's just say, heavenly. Hoards of joggers, bikers, and outdoor enthusiasts flocked to the river today. I felt very much at home among the athletes while rolling my wheelchair down the path. (Afterwards, I clocked my distance on my car odometer and was pleasantly surprised that I had covered about two miles of terrain.)
Afer a good decade or more of very little physical activity, it is amazing to feel like I used to feel after a good run... fatigued, happy, satisfied, athletic, and even a little bit superior to the sluggards who lounged away the day in front of the television. ;) (Hey, let me have my moment of gloating, okay!)
So very, very, very grateful to be able to move in this way.
(Funny little addendum on April 5: While telling my therapist about rolling on the river, I noticed that he visibly blanched. A second later he said, "OH! You are talking about rolling beside the river at the trail!!! I thought you were talking about rolling on the water!" For an instant, I guess he was wondering if he had the therapeutic skills to deal with my Messiah-complex. We had just been talking about how my self esteem has grown over the years, and he said, "When I pictured you rolling on the water, I thought, 'Well, I guess she has good reason for the increased self esteem!'" Too funny!)
I haven't jogged in thirty years. Yet, today, I experienced that same feeling of endurance and rhythmical motion by rolling along the river trail in my town. It was an achingly beautiful spring day with sunny,Caribbean blue skies, gentle breezes and lovely 70something degrees. East Tennessee in the springtime is as beautiful as anywhere in the world, and a day like today, rolling along a trail beside a wide river flanked by woods... let's just say, heavenly. Hoards of joggers, bikers, and outdoor enthusiasts flocked to the river today. I felt very much at home among the athletes while rolling my wheelchair down the path. (Afterwards, I clocked my distance on my car odometer and was pleasantly surprised that I had covered about two miles of terrain.)
Afer a good decade or more of very little physical activity, it is amazing to feel like I used to feel after a good run... fatigued, happy, satisfied, athletic, and even a little bit superior to the sluggards who lounged away the day in front of the television. ;) (Hey, let me have my moment of gloating, okay!)
So very, very, very grateful to be able to move in this way.
(Funny little addendum on April 5: While telling my therapist about rolling on the river, I noticed that he visibly blanched. A second later he said, "OH! You are talking about rolling beside the river at the trail!!! I thought you were talking about rolling on the water!" For an instant, I guess he was wondering if he had the therapeutic skills to deal with my Messiah-complex. We had just been talking about how my self esteem has grown over the years, and he said, "When I pictured you rolling on the water, I thought, 'Well, I guess she has good reason for the increased self esteem!'" Too funny!)
Friday, April 1, 2011
Recap of the Past Week
I've had an amazingly healthy week of great food choices, liberal amounts of exercise, fresh air, productivity, creativity and fun. I'm Nustepping twice a day, exercising in bed for about 45 minutes (and really beginning to see muscle definition!)and am beginning to exercise on my feet (a bit) which may not be the best option due to safety concerns. I stand by my dresser and "march", right leg up, left leg up. Left leg rebelled, tho, and collapsed beneath me and I fell. Right foot wedged beneath the dresser and I had to lift the heavy thing to get loose to crawl to the bathroom to get up by climbing onto the toilet.
The "old me" would have had some despair that so simple a movement would be so awkward and dangerous. The "new me" said, "I need to be more careful and take it a bit more slowly. Let's see what else I can do to more safely exercise those same muscles." One of the new things I am doing is to stand up repeatedly from my wheelchair or the side of the bed. I feel strong and athletic being able to do this simple movement that was so difficult a few months ago.
This wellness journey is becoming more and more amazing and life giving.
As I'm transitioning from Medifast to whole foods, I'm delighted by the vast array of wonderful food that God has created.
This past week, here is what I ate:
Restaurant Food:
Apple Pecan Salad from Wendy's
(Wow! Only one meal eaten out!!!)
Vegetables:
Spinach
Mushrooms
Celery
Cauliflower
Sweet Potato
Green Pepper
Tomato
Cabbage
Onion
Fruit:
Orange
Bananas
Blueberries
Pear
Clementines
Oatmeal 4
Multigrain Cheerios 2
Rice
Skim Milk
Plain Yogurt
Mozzarella cheese
1% Cottage Cheese
Meat:
Pork Chop
Ground Beef
Skinless Chicken Breast (2)
Eggs
Condiments:
Garlic
Olive Oil
Flax Seed
Chow Chow
The "old me" would have had some despair that so simple a movement would be so awkward and dangerous. The "new me" said, "I need to be more careful and take it a bit more slowly. Let's see what else I can do to more safely exercise those same muscles." One of the new things I am doing is to stand up repeatedly from my wheelchair or the side of the bed. I feel strong and athletic being able to do this simple movement that was so difficult a few months ago.
This wellness journey is becoming more and more amazing and life giving.
As I'm transitioning from Medifast to whole foods, I'm delighted by the vast array of wonderful food that God has created.
This past week, here is what I ate:
Restaurant Food:
Apple Pecan Salad from Wendy's
(Wow! Only one meal eaten out!!!)
Vegetables:
Spinach
Mushrooms
Celery
Cauliflower
Sweet Potato
Green Pepper
Tomato
Cabbage
Onion
Fruit:
Orange
Bananas
Blueberries
Pear
Clementines
Oatmeal 4
Multigrain Cheerios 2
Rice
Skim Milk
Plain Yogurt
Mozzarella cheese
1% Cottage Cheese
Meat:
Pork Chop
Ground Beef
Skinless Chicken Breast (2)
Eggs
Condiments:
Garlic
Olive Oil
Flax Seed
Chow Chow
Decreasing Disability
while reading "diet blogs", I realize that something has changed inside of me and I am different than most of the dieters out there. Most people view their diet as something they must do for x amount of time to reach y weight... it's goal oriented deprivation.
I don't expect to ever be at goal and to then stop what I'm doing.
Let me say that again: I don't expect to ever be at goal and to then stop what I am doing.
My journey isn't a diet, but a quest for fitness, and I know that even at 120 pounds there will always be new peaks, vistas, and mountains to climb.
I have my disability to thank, in large part, for this revised perspective. The old me approached dieting very much from that "must not eat this until I am slim enough" mentality. (It usually worked as long as I didn't eat the forbidden fruit. But, man on man, once I lost "enough" weight and started allowing myself to eat the junk again, the pounds packed on.) It's taken me almost fifty years to learn that diet mentality is a recipe for disaster.
Back to the gift of disability: Because I have so much weakness, and because I don't know how much fitness I might gain through losing weight and exercise, the possibilities are endless... there is no defined goal at the end, just a lifelong journey of exploration and trying.
After twenty years or more of physical decline due to CMT, poor eating habits, weight gain and inactivity, it has been THRILLING to find my body spiralling upward in ability and in strength. Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm still a wheelchair-user and still disabled, BUT I know how much stronger I am growing, how much easier tasks are becoming, and how I am seeing added abilities rather than increasing disabilities.
After years and years of watching abilities slip away, one after another, to see gains in function is like life from death. This journey I'm on isn't a diet/exercise plan, but a quest to explore the far reaches of "what is possible". I know it is very possible that I will one day (and not too far off!) be an extremely fit wheelchair-user. Might I walk again? Doesn't seem likely due to the biochemistry of my disease and the effects it has on muscles in my lower legs and to some degree my upper legs, too. Even so, I find those weakened/paralyzed muscles are responding to exercise and growing stronger. My torso and arms seem to be normal in functioning and the horizons for strength gains there seem enormous.
I love this body of mine. Finally, finally, finally... after decades of rejecting it, fighting it, being ashamed of it, it's my beloved friend. And I want to treat this friend with kindness by filling it with nutritious food and enjoying the experience of moving together. (Exercise has become something more like a fun dance than a boring chore.) I don't see myself reverting to my former eating habits and inactivity... decreasing disability is well worth lifelong change.
I don't expect to ever be at goal and to then stop what I'm doing.
Let me say that again: I don't expect to ever be at goal and to then stop what I am doing.
My journey isn't a diet, but a quest for fitness, and I know that even at 120 pounds there will always be new peaks, vistas, and mountains to climb.
I have my disability to thank, in large part, for this revised perspective. The old me approached dieting very much from that "must not eat this until I am slim enough" mentality. (It usually worked as long as I didn't eat the forbidden fruit. But, man on man, once I lost "enough" weight and started allowing myself to eat the junk again, the pounds packed on.) It's taken me almost fifty years to learn that diet mentality is a recipe for disaster.
Back to the gift of disability: Because I have so much weakness, and because I don't know how much fitness I might gain through losing weight and exercise, the possibilities are endless... there is no defined goal at the end, just a lifelong journey of exploration and trying.
After twenty years or more of physical decline due to CMT, poor eating habits, weight gain and inactivity, it has been THRILLING to find my body spiralling upward in ability and in strength. Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm still a wheelchair-user and still disabled, BUT I know how much stronger I am growing, how much easier tasks are becoming, and how I am seeing added abilities rather than increasing disabilities.
After years and years of watching abilities slip away, one after another, to see gains in function is like life from death. This journey I'm on isn't a diet/exercise plan, but a quest to explore the far reaches of "what is possible". I know it is very possible that I will one day (and not too far off!) be an extremely fit wheelchair-user. Might I walk again? Doesn't seem likely due to the biochemistry of my disease and the effects it has on muscles in my lower legs and to some degree my upper legs, too. Even so, I find those weakened/paralyzed muscles are responding to exercise and growing stronger. My torso and arms seem to be normal in functioning and the horizons for strength gains there seem enormous.
I love this body of mine. Finally, finally, finally... after decades of rejecting it, fighting it, being ashamed of it, it's my beloved friend. And I want to treat this friend with kindness by filling it with nutritious food and enjoying the experience of moving together. (Exercise has become something more like a fun dance than a boring chore.) I don't see myself reverting to my former eating habits and inactivity... decreasing disability is well worth lifelong change.
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