Wellness for All

I love that Obama's health care proposal is bringing to light the desperation many experience in the midst of a system geared to protecting the most powerful members of society with seemingly little regard for the weak: the poor, the sick, the underemployed. If we can't pay attention to this problem and make serious attempts to heal what ails it, we have no standing to call ourselves a "Christian nation", or even a just and compassionate people. Is this issue the plumb line by which we measure ourselves in the 21st century, much as racial issues and slavery were the lines in the sand in previous centuries?

Obviously, I support health care reform. Oh, it would be nice if people had risen up and had chosen altruism, but that hasn't happened as I see it. There have been ample opportunities for the players to change the rules of the game. They have not so chosen. The church has not provided significant relief. The insurance companies are not willing to adjust. People with Cadillac insurance policies are not willing to forgo some bells and whistles so that all might have a baseline of care.

The complexity of the health care reform bill (900 pages!) is staggering, and I want to throw up my hands and say, "Somebody smarter than me, FIX THIS!"

While I'm not smart enough to know the specific changes that are needed to make health care more accessible to the masses, I know firsthand something we can all do to impact wellness that would SIGNIFICANTLY improve the overall state of our nation's health and well-being....Rediscover Community. Reach out to each other. Know and Care about our neighbors. Turn off the video games and Facebook and call a friend. Reach out to somebody lonely.

It's not so hard. It doesn't require a ream of paper to describe the plan drafted by hundreds(thousands?) of policy makers nor does it cost billions of dollars. It IS costly, however... it costs time, energy, and perhaps relinquishing our comfort zone to build relationships with the poor.

I have written how I had just about given up hope back in January regarding the state of my health. (And I have insurance! Imagine the desperation of those who contend with health problems and no financial means to access health care! It's staggering.) I'm on a new track since then, one of hope and of increasing wellness. And the magic ingredient that changed the course of my life was love. Love from people who came alongside of me to cheer me on, to be community with me in the battle.

I have a dream for a "Wellness Center". A place where people can go to be in loving community. Where health, life and well-being are fostered. Art classes. A gym full of exercise equipment (making exercise accessible to the disabled and the poor). Books, coffee, comfortable couches and conversation. Fun and healthy cooking classes where you experience friendship as you cook healthy meals to put in your freezer. Haircuts and Makeovers for people who can't afford them. A clothing closet to trade clothing for a smaller size as you lose weight. Counseling services. Literacy classes/GED classes. A community-garden. Dance classes geared to people of all levels of athleticism. A facility that is simple, yet beautiful. Humble yet holy. Set apart. Light, airy, full of nature. Prayer soaked. Bible studies. Concerts. Wellness Check-ups. An ambitious vision to be sure. But. Can. You. See. It?

Evolution of Wellness

Slave to Beauty:
Teenage and College Years through early thirties
Mindset: I'm only beautiful if...I am a size 8 or less and I can hide my physical flaws (missing toenail, curved right foot, surgery-scarred left foot and back, slight limp.) I'm only worthy if I can appear physically perfect (by hiding the "shameful" flaws) and by being thin.
Outward Manifestations: Attractive, normal, good weight
Attitude towards Makeup, Clothes: I need these to mask my shameful secret... the genetic disease. I need cute clothes and makeup to compensate. I need to be thin to be loved... maybe that will override the disability factor.
Attitude towards Food and Exercise: Gotta exercise to beat back the neurological disease. Can't let it win. Gotta diet. If I don't stay slim, I won't be loved.
Attitude towards Beauty in others: YOU are only worthy and lovable if you are thinner than me, more attractive than me. But I won't really be able to love you, because I'll hate you for being better than me. And if you are uglier than me, I don't really want to associate with you because I might be tarred by the same "ugly" brush.
Attitude towards God: Who needs God? I've got myself.

Rebel against Beauty:
Early thirties to Mid-Forties
Mindset: I'm only beautiful if ... Forget about it! There is no freakin' way I can be beautiful. I've lost the battle. My disability is growing increasingly visible and everybody can now see how really hideous I am.
Outward Manifestations: Less and less attention to appearance. Stopped wearing makeup and jewelry. Stopped ironing clothes. Stopped shopping unless absolutely necessary. Progressive weight gain. Just put on something to cover the body.
Attitude towards Makeup, Clothes: What's the use.
Attitude towards Food and Exercise: Eat at will to medicate the emotional pain. Exercise? Are you crazy? I can't exercise. I'm a crip. And besides that, all the things I used to be able to do, like hiking, are growing impossible, and when I try and fail, I slide so deep into depression than I just eat more. so why try to move my body?
Attitude towards Beauty in Others: You are all more beautiful than me because you are normal and I am not. And I hate you all. Oh, except for you really freaky people with REAL disabilities who are just unspeakably ugly. Attitude towards God: Heal me. I can't stand being so ugly. Make me beautiful again.

Freedom to Be Beautiful!!!
Mid forties
Mindset: I'm only beautiful if... I listen to God telling me it is so and if I choose to believe God.
Outward Manifestations: Losing weight. Smiling more.
Attitude towards Makeup, Clothes, Jewelry: LOVE THEM! Love accessorizing outfits. Love wearing cute clothes. FUN!!! "Look at me" earrings. Fun chunky pink pearls. Bold pink over sized shoulder bag. All day long shopping expeditions.
Attitude towards Food and Exercise: It's a blast to lose weight and to grow increasingly healthier and more attractive. I'm already beautiful, but let's just see how beautiful I can become. Veggies are a gift of self-love to myself. "Bad foods" become gifts from God when used in moderation and balance. Exercise is necessary to be healthy. I'm gonna do it even if it's not always fun, because it is good.
Attitude towards Beauty in Others: See beauty in grace, courage, smiles, generosity, service, patience, kindness. A severely disabled woman in a wheelchair is potentially as beautiful as a beauty queen, and a beauty queen is potentially as beautiful as a severely disabled women in a wheelchair.
Attitude towards God: God, you are so beautiful it blows my mind.

Love Hunger

I am discovering that deep, meaningful time with people I love... the kind wherein we bare our souls, laugh heartily, cry readily, probe spiritual depths, break bread, resolve conflicts, and conspire to love and serve others... is one of my best practice of self-care. The sense of well-being that comes from loving and being loved, knowing and being known, fosters life. When love feeds the hungers, counting calories becomes unnecessary. Food is restored to its rightful place as a gift from God to be enjoyed and is no longer needed to fill the voids.

I suspect that our trend of increasing obesity in the United States could easily be correlated with our culture's increasing isolation and loss of connection/community. We eat because we're starved for love.

I wonder if we spent less time at the gym and used that time meaningfully with others, and if we focused on increasing our uptake of hugs instead of obsessing about decreasing our consumption of calories, if we wouldn't find our bodies returning to a natural state of health.

This past week has been a difficult one. I'm involved in a situation of being a change-agent and there is considerable push back. It has been stressful dealing with unhappy people, but interestingly, I observe that I haven't decompressed through eating. I have better medication now. No, not Lexapro or Zoloft. It's love...from people who rearranged their schedules to sit with me while I cried, who prayed for me while they jogged,who gave me home-smoked bar-b-q, fixed my scooter, and bought me cute clothes at the thrift-store. It's love... that I gave to people through listening, speaking truth, and meeting needs. It's love from God... who reminded me that Love Wins. With love like that in my life, who needs chocolate cake?

Self-care is not something I can do alone. Self-care requires community... community that I can love and that can love me. Maybe I'm getting healthier because my connections with other people continue to grow in frequency and in depth. The Love Diet. Love Liberally. Love Lavishly. Feast. And be Satisfied.

Razzle Dazzle

I ordered a stunning fashion accessory today to go with the new and improved me. It's shiny purple... razzleberry, to be exact. I had my choice of colors: candy apple red, toxic green (which I considered for shock value), UT orange (which I did NOT consider), and sedate black opal. So what is this new fashion accessory? A sweater? nah. Earrings? nope. I know, a purse? Good guess, but no.



It's a new set of wheels... as in wheelchair. Now, a razzleberry wheelchair might not sound like an exciting new accoutrement, but I assure you it is thrilling. I HAD NO IDEA HOW MUCH FUN IT COULD BE TO DRIVE A GOOD SET OF WHEELS! For the test drive, I took off soaring down the hallway, and the PT yelled after me, "You have to come back! We have your purse!" Reluctantly, I returned to her office and switched back to my second-hand, beat-up chair. I'm counting the days until my tailor-made chair arrives (about 90).



I just want to say that anybody who uses the terminology "wheelchair bound" has never experienced the thrill of a streamlined, ergonomic, light-weight, spoke-wheeled, purple wheelchair. Seriously.



The PT has a photo of a smiling Guatamalan teen in a wheelchair on her bulletin board. This young woman with Cerebral Palsy received her first wheelchair at the age of 19 through the Joni and Friends Wheels to the World ministry. Prior to this, she had to be carried on somebody's back or had to crawl on the dirt floor in her home. I defy anybody to look at her radiant smile and use "wheelchair bound". Absolutely, amazingly wheelchair freed!



I may know a little of what she experienced. And it's pretty darn cool. For those of you who know me in person, consider this fair warning: I get my wheelchair in about 3 months, and it's so fast and so much fun, you had better be prepared to move out of my way if you don't want to be knocked skyward like toppling bowling pins. Just kidding. I won't run you over... I want you to be able to tell me how dazzling you find my razzleberry chair. And I need to get your advice: Do you think toxic green crutches might go with razzleberry purple?

Falling and Soaring

Having traveled to my hometown for a birthday weekend with my family, I got up early Saturday morning in anticipation of attending a women's event at my sister's church. This event, iBloom, sounded so cutting edge, hip, and life-affirming. I was scurrying around trying to hasten my departure, and being in an unfamiliar routine at my mom's house, I leaned forward and fell out of my wheelchair. Well, anybody who knows me and knows my difficulty getting back to my feet knows this is no simple matter.



Faced with the possibility of missing the event and even spending the morning in the company of the Lexington Fire Department, I began praying earnestly. (There is nothing more prayer-motivating than trying to find an alternative to calling a squadron of men to come and lift your semi-nude body off the floor!) "Oh! I can crawl to the bathroom. Push up onto the toilet and then stand up." Yep, it worked. I had to ask my son to help me up from the very low toilet, but with only a 5-10 minute delay, I was "back on my feet" and on my way. A little while later, I rolled to the doorway and began to stand up to walk to my car. Dang it all if my wheelchair didn't roll out from under me and I sprawled on the porch. TWICE WITHIN 15 MINUTES! And once again, with my son and God assisting, I crawled to the edge of the porch, pushed into a chair, stood up and was once again back on my two feet and headed to the conference.



I have been wrestling with God about this "standing on my own two feet" thing. I've been very dependent on a relationship with somebody who has been an enormous source of support and encouragement to me on my journey and I've been sensing the need to let go of the relationship and move forward. "God, if you want me to stand on my own two feet, then why in the heck did you allow me to have feet that are affected by a physically destructive neuromuscular disease!" During the drive to Lexington, God reminded me that I have been transformed, like a caterpillar to a butterfly, and He's given me wings that are strong and whole and ready to catch the updrafts of the Spirit's breeze to soar where the Spirit takes me. Who needs legs when they have wings?





The iBloom conference, as I experienced it, was about affirming our worth as women based on God's truth of who we are and about recognizing that God has plans for each woman to live abundantly and to dream God-sized dreams. When the conference leader asked how many women knew their dreams...the dreams that God had given them...only a couple of us raised our hands.



I have many dreams. Taking better care of myself... body, mind, and spirit. Honoring my body after years of dishonoring it. Doing well on that front. On my birthday, I left a big glop of icing on my plate! Never before in the history of Lynna has icing been thrown away. Matter of fact, I've been known to scrape all the icing off an entire cake and leave the dry, naked cake behind for all the other poor schmucks. My tastes are changing. The fresh green beans and corn were as much a treat as the chocolate cake! I enjoyed food while on vacation, but made good choices about what I ate. Interestingly, the leftovers in the fridge did NOT sing their siren song to me as they have done in the past. I ate what I needed to be full, enjoyed it thoroughly, but did not feel the same compulsive need to satisfy the emotional hungers, even when stressed. (Like getting stuck in the bathtub, too weak to get out. But that's another story for another day!)



Another dream has been to go to seminary. Every time I'd hear about somebody pursuing that goal, I'd be pea-green with envy. I was pretty sure I was called in that direction, but the timing, the finances, the relationships, the stars were not in alignment. However, it seems doors are opening, and I applied this week to Asbury Theological Seminary. (They have a distance learning path that seems very do-able.) I'm thirsty for more of God and thirsty to offer more of myself to God for His purposes. We'll see what happens...



What a beautiful, relaxing, momentous birthday week I just had thanks to so much grace and love from so many friends and my wonderful family.

Leaving the Campground

I've always been hyper-critical of Christians who have decided that they've arrived at their destination and stop moving/growing on their spiritual journeys. Rather than breaking camp, hoisting their backpack and taking off down the trail each morning, it seems as though they step onto their posh RV patio for a cup of coffee and the Morning Show. Life is good. They've paid their dues, done their share of work, grown enough, thank-you very much, and now it's time to settle back and relax.

In many ways, I've been treating my spiritual journey like that. After years of grueling hikes up the mountain, and I mean rough, rough terrain, I've been comfortable settling down with my RV hooked up at a nice campground and decorated with Japanese lanterns, whirligigs and this kitchy sign:

Where I once was critical, I'm beginning to understand. People get tired. Resting and ease is... well... restful and easy. For me, it has taken a little (or a lot) of pain to budge me from my camping chair. First, the painful fear of becoming incapacitated got me moving towards better eating and exercise habits. Now, the pain of not being able to latch onto an elusive relationship for emotional feeding has me hoisting my backpack and venturing back into the wilderness to seek God more fervently. I'm not happy. After sipping wine and grilling steaks at the RV park, the rigors of the wilderness are dreadfully unappealing. And yet, despite the wine and steaks (and cucumbers and melons), there was no freedom. Freedom and God are found down this path. I hope I don't get lost and spend something like forty years wandering around.

Wounded Hiker

I am going through an emotional identity-crisis. After realizing that I had become hopelessly enmeshed with a wonderful person who has helped me accept and love myself, I decided that I needed to stop relying on that person for my emotional sustenance. So, I tossed on my backpack and set off down the trail on my own. I'm terrified. After years of my companion being there to help me find my way in the world as a woman with a disability, I am afraid I won't have the psychological/spiritual resources to keep triumphing as I forge ahead.

In the midst of the shaky terrain, I am finding firm footing in an unexpected place: the self-discipline that I've been cultivating with my eating and exercising. I may not be able to control my feelings, and even as the fear and the self-doubts assail me, I know that I do have the choice to continue eating well and riding my Nustep.

In former times, eating... binge eating... would have been my means of self-soothing during times of emotional pain. Today, the choice to take care of my body is providing nurture to my bruised and battered soul.

This blog isn't just about physical health. It's about wholeness... wanting to be more whole spiritually, emotionally, physically, relationally. Sometimes I take great strides in one area while faltering in another. Before, I was failing miserably at physical wholeness and kicking butt spiritually and emotionally. Today, the tables have turned... My body is striding confidently forward while dragging along my wounded soul and spirit on a makeshift litter. Will I ever be strong and healthy in all areas at the same time?

One thing I know: I need your prayers right now to help carry me along.