Crying on the Trail

I was finishing up my last 0.5 mile of my 5 mile roll this morning when a woman made me cry.


Walking towards me with purpose, I could tell this athletic, tall, slim woman had something to say so I took out my Ipod headphones.

"I just wanted you to know that I am out here walking now because I drove by, saw you, and decided that even though my back is killing me, I could do this, too. Thank you for being an inspiration."

I teared up... I'd been praying all morning for a friend who has paraplegia whose back has gone out... It's like, "Enough already, God! It's hard enough just being disabled, could you help out a little here with just a tiny healing touch! He's trying so hard to keep his life together, maintain a job and a household, and stay healthy. It's a huge load to carry, and to have your back go out after going to the gym... well, it just hurts that he has it so hard."

The woman on the walking trail... like I said, I don't know why she impacted me so deeply, but I cried hard as I traveled the rest of the way back to my car. Maybe it was just recognizing that the courage to live expansively with disability, as difficult as that can sometimes be, can affect positive change. There is joy in that. And I don't think my friend with paraplegia knows that joy. He just knows the drudgery of the dailiness of it all... the pain and the suckiness. And that makes me cry, again. Because I want him to experience the joy that can be lived in the midst of the pain.

Beyond Blessed

Middle school, in my city, begins in the 5th grade. Years ago, when my now 22 year-old son began middle school, I was in the throes of a rapid escalation of my disability, and I avoided all possible contact with J's friends... never, ever went to the school... was so certain that it would be painful... that I would face rejection, or worse... ridicule. I was desperately wrong and missed out on alot of opportunities to love and to be loved.

Contrast that fearful and lonely time with this week- I am leading the rising 5th graders at my church in our "Kids' Camp" and I have seldom felt so much love flowing in both directions. Simply put: the kids love me, and I them. And it is a beautiful thing. Oh, I can't get down on the ground with them for their picnic supper, nor play games in recreation, but I CAN do the more important things... I can see them through love's eyes, I can show them honor, I can listen to them and laugh with them. I'm an awesome adult leader of kids... who knew!!!!

They clamor for the honor of pushing my wheelchair to the next activity... it's become something I offer as a reward for good behavior. hehe

I used to think that progressing disability would correlate directly with decreasing love. I was desperately wrong. Thank God. My life grows increasing rich with relationships full of love and the abundant life that Jesus promised increases continually. I am in awe and beyond blessed to be living this life.

Pure Joy

When I began rolling at the river trail a few months ago, I had no idea how life giving it would be... I just knew that from the very first time I tried it, it felt "right".

That first Sunday, walking the dog with my son, going about a mile, enjoying the spring breezes and smiles of other walkers on the trail, was like opening a chapter to the next exploration of my life.

Since that time, I've tried to hit the trail at least five times a week... it is such a source of spiritual, emotional, social and physical well being. I've talked to several hundred people, ministered directly to several dozen hurting souls, impacted countless drivers who are "inspired" as they drive by and see me, deeply connected with a handful of friends who had gotten lost in the shuffle of life whom I enountered on the trail. I've spent a good hundred hours or more contemplating the wonders of Creation, God's glory, and intimate conversation with God. I praise and sing as I roll. I finish my time on the trail, and I am usually exhausted, but feel a deep sense of well being... even joy.

And, if all of that isn't blessing enough, my body continues to grow stronger and healthier. Last week I rolled a total of 20 miles. This past Sunday, I rolled 7.5 miles, my longest distance to date. The idea of participating in a 10K is no longer a distant dream, but a very possible reality.

Loving this... pure joy.

Brief Update

My viewing public has requested an update. P, thanks for asking!!! (Does one person constitute "viewing public"? lol)

I'm very much in a fervent stage of growth... this whole experience of dating and talking with men in "that way" for the first time since I was 21 is taking alot of time, attention, and energy, to say the least. Combine that with starting a new job in sales and marketing (for which I am deeply unexperienced), and my daughter's graduation from high school, and finding a place in a new church, and I am too busy to focus much on wellness... just coasting on the good habits I've established over the past year.

I am learning things about myself in the midst of this dating experience... not all good things... and it is almost overwhelming. However, in the midst of these profound changes, I am managing to stay balanced, reasonably so, with carving out time to exercise, and I am still choosing (mostly) healthy food choices. I think I've stayed at a constant weight for the past two months, and I'm happy with that plateau, even while it's probably time to begin another trek up the mountain to secure more weight loss... if I stayed at this size for the rest of my life, it wouldn't be the end of the world, but I sense there is more God wants of me... even more weight loss and fitness gains. Right now, though, the more important "wellness" matters have to do with the state of my soul and health therein in the midst of male/female relationships. Wellness is about SO much more than the size of one's body. It's the overall state of health that matters. Right now, the emotional/spiritual components of wellness have bubbled up as more important.
Posted by Lynna at 5:09 PM

Dad Gum Good Lookin'!

I've been pretty slack this past week about my exercise routine. I joined an Internet dating website, and, may I just say, it's a little bit addictive... at least for an approval addict like myself. (Once an addict, always an addict. I'm finding that approval is probably for me like Crack is to a cocaine addict. One little hit, and I'm really easily swept into the stream.) As such, it has been alot more fun this past week to chat with men who approached me with "You are beautiful" and "Your smile is breathtaking", and... than it has been to be disciplined with my wonderful and life giving exercise routine.

Definitely a case of choosing poorly, as I see it. The healthy choice... disciplined exercise... that fosters physical, emotional, and spiritual well being, versus talking to a bunch of men who ALL have the exact same profile:

"Honest man seeking my best friend to cuddle on the couch with me."

I asked some male friends to give me a read on that statement, to which they replied, "Oh honey, that just means they want to take their clothes off and get laid."

Sigh.

This has been a very, very interesting learning laboratory (see if you don't agree):

One man wants to move from Virginia and be my caretaker... man! he can cook and fix computers, too!

Another man,age 78, wants to wheel me around in my wheelchair... that sounds dangerous!

Two different men, both with broken English, sounding middle-eastern, (yet with VERY Caucasion photos), want a mum for their little children whose mommies died. (Definitely stalkerish and red flag material)

Several twenty-somethings apparently have a thing for middle-aged women in wheelchairs...

A man who told me I was "dad gum good lookin'" and he would never have to worry about me running around on him... (such an insulting assumption... that nobody else in the entire world would hit on me!)

The man who wrote: "Oh angel baby, it would complete my life to take care of you for the rest of it!")

And on and on it goes... definitely not territory for the faint of heart.

Oh yeh, so while this has been interesting, I'm ready to put it on the shelf and get back to what I know offers wellness... taking care of myself and taking care of others.

And while it has been extremely eye-opening, this Internet dating foray, I think I'm going to pursue relationships the old-fashioned way... flirtatiously rolling over the toes of an attractive man at Home Depot.

I dare!

Joined an internet dating service. All I can say, is dear Lord, this is an experience. Should only be dared by somebody who has the ability to laugh and who has well-honed self-preservation instincts. (There are some seriously evil people in the world... who see a woman in a wheelchair as prey. On the opposite end of the spectrum, there are some seriously lovely men who are blessing my socks off.) Had a first date last night with one of the good ones. And it was lovely. (It was so wonderful knowing that I am at an attractive, even if not yet ideal, weight. While with him, I felt beautiful and sexy.)

And so goes forward my 2011 of saying "yes" to healthy adventures. Next week, a date with another man to go to the mountains on Saturday. So much fun. Who knew?

Dare I Dare?

Dating, as I understand it, is difficult for most divorced, middle-aged individuals who begin entering the male-female relationship arena after decades of being removed from the game.

That is certainly no less difficult (she says with irony)for a divorced, middle-aged wheelchair user.

While waiting for our table at nice restaurant tonight, my friend and I got a glass of wine and waited in the bar area. AND, a very physically fit, uber-ablebodied man struck up a conversation with me.

It was only later, when Sally pointed out his interest, that I realized he had been angling to get my phone number. It was almost comical how inept I was at recognizing the signals he was sending. Life was definitely less complicated in this regard when I was seriously overweight and never had these kinds of issues to process.

As Helen Keller once said, "Life is a daring adventure, or nothing at all."

Not sure if I am up to this daring adventure into which I seem to be swept!

Prettiest Person in a Wheelchair!

Adorable freshman girl at tonight's youth meeting at church: "You are the prettiest person I've ever seen in a wheelchair!"

I admit it. I am a sucker for a good compliment. Heck, I'll probably glow over that one alone for a good week or two. (Hmmmm. Wonder who she has seen in a wheelchair... lol.)

Loving every minute spent with the youth at my new church, and really beginning to bond with many of the girls. Feel like I am floating on a grace cloud. So much love.

Love really does fill the holes in my soul that I formerly filled with overeating.

Wow! This has been one heckuva' abundant day. It began with an extraordinary meeting with a colleague at Panera (my new office!) to discuss next steps for initiating a faith-based ministry to provide a safety net and support for people who are "couch homeless" (bouncing from house to house relying on the good graces of family and friends who will take them in for a time). We envisioned changing the entire futures of children who can know more than hopeless entrenchment in poverty as their parents find new hope, skills and encouragement out of the pit. That discussion alone would have made for a phenomenal day, but there was more, much, much more.

My colleague noticed that the label inserted in my 3-ring binder containing my homeless ministry notes said "Joni and Friends", a leftover remant from earlier days in ministry wherein I had explored a possible ministry connection with disability ministry. She asked me if I was going to the fundraiser/banquet in Knoxville tonight at which Joni Earekson-Tada would be speaking. Get out! I had no idea this was occurring. Turns out, my friend had reluctantly purchased a ticket from a friend, but had no interest in attending. Of course, she offered it to me, and I jumped. Seldom do things seems so clear and so ordained.

Truly a "goosebumps" evening. Made and renewed significant contacts with personnel at the Knoxille office. (The Director remembered my name, remembered Mariposa Ministry, and had been thinking of me days earlier. I hadn't seen her in 5 years or more!)What's afoot, God?????

More: I was offered a job working with a best buddy doing productive "tent-making" work to support our ministry callings. This will be a key piece of the puzzle allowing me some financial wiggle-room to return to school should I finally determine that is the path forward.

More: While rolling at the river, I came across a case manager walking with a group of people with mental illnesses from a local hospital. He said, "I know you, you were at the UU Maundy Thursday service." "That's right, I was. I'm surprised you remember." "Well, you are pretty memorable in the wheelchair, and, besides that, I washed your foot."

Yes, folks, he was the man who washed my *foot* at the footwashing during that service. (Why we just washed one foot, I don't know... but that's not really germaine to the story!)

I ask you: How many people do you think were exercising today who encountered another person who said, "Hey, I know you! I washed your foot!"? (This appeals to my sense of humor and just makes me grin. What delicious fun I have at my river.)

And in reflecting on this day, I realize that I have never been more content, more at peace, more purposeful, more joyful, and more certain of God's presence and love, than I am at this very moment in time. I am living expansively, abundantly, creatively, and daringly. And it is wonderful beyond my wildest dreams.

Thank you, God.

Filling Voids with Love Instead of Food

I grow increasingly convinced, especially through reading dieting blogs, that diet and exercise might be adequate for a time to lose weight, but deeper emotional/spiritual work must also be done in order to affect long-term change and in order to maintain new eating habits and to fill the "holes in the soul" that were formerly filled by food. Otherwise, the crack in the door of eating that occurs with transition off of a diet leads to the door being blasted off the hinges and full-out binge. Full-out return to the addictive behavior.

I'm glad to say that the past six weeks (? about?) since I stopped Medifast and returned to eating whole foods, have NOT resulted in my former eating habits. It's too early to tell, but I feel like I am in a really good place where food is concerned and it seems like I've internalized the desire for healthy foods. I literally prefer a banana to a cookie (because I know it makes my body healthier and I love my body) or cooked cabbage to a baked potato.

I eat like all those people who used to mystify me... the ones who would pass on food if they weren't hungry and when they did eat, stopped when they were physically full. Food is no longer my means of self-medicating my emotional needs. I'm growing increasingly content with my life: finding fulfillment in serving, engaged in healthy relationships, always open to opportunities for growing; lots of interactions with people.

And that is the key: Before, I ate because I didn't love myself and I feared people. Now, loving myself, and being open to loving relationships is what fills that former void that food once filled. When I go rolling at the river and engage in deep and meaningful conversations with new acquaintances, that fills me in exactly the same way eating a whole pie would have done before. Connection with people is what my soul has always longed for, and when I felt so not Okay, and when I feared rejection by people, food was a "safe" substitute for that emotional/relational void.

It feels like things are in much better alignment with love of self and love of others filling me up so much that there isn't room to be over-stuffed with food.

Time will tell...

Wonder What They'll Say at 100 Pounds Lost

I haven't weighed myself since I began this journey. I know what my starting weight was, roughtly, and I know a mid-way number obtained in February through participating in a research project that required a weigh-in. Aside from that,the numbers on the scales have been a non-existent factor. AND I LOVE THAT! I have lost over 80 pounds without being a slave to a number on a digital read-out.

I suggest, however, that there is a way to tell how much weight has been lost according to this scale. I call it the "Comments Scale".

20 Pounds Lost: You look good. Are you dieting.
45 Pounds Lost: You look Great!
60 Pounds Lost: You look Amazing!
80 Pounds Lost: You look Stunning, Gorgeous, Wow!

People, you had me at "great". hehe

I just got home from a shopping trip for makeup,lotion, lingerie, and cosmetics. It is so much fun indulging in "girly" stuff, feeling beautiful, and rolling through the stores feeling attractive and confident.

I didn't know what I had been missing, and believing I could never feel this way again, I had put beauty aside, convincing myself that life was full enough taking care of other people and loving and being loved as a very overweight woman.

That was ok, and, yes, an obese woman can lead a full and productive life. (If she is healthy, which I was increasingly not!)However, I've been there, and I'm now here, and here is infinitely more fun and satisfying.

Medical Model of Disability: NO MORE!

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.