"They that wait upon the Lord..." Yea, right. That's what I wanted to do...wait. So on Tuesday you start thinking about your sermon, or if you are a lay person maybe an agenda, or if you are a non church going believer, a situation, or if you are a seeker, a proof. By Thursday you're a bit frustrated nothing is coming. By Friday, panic is setting in. Saturday you roll something out that isn't quite what you wanted.
Agenda prep? You try to contact everyone to see who has what to discuss or report. No answer. Then there's the person who has tons and balance on the agenda seems to be the issue. By the night before the meeting you're convinced that the whole thing is pointless or at least going South fast.
Situation? Two days into it, you're beginning to use 'duct tape and a hammer'. Never a good idea.
Seeker? Proving the existence of something invisible and discerned takes eons.
What do we do with waiting? Let it happen. Busy ourselves with what is doable, what is rewarding, the small steps that move towards a big happening.
Acknowledge that waiting is a part of life. It doesn't mean something has gone wrong or needs to be speeded up. It means that we are time bound. We are concrete beings. We are hemmed in by others and the events that result from that.
It could be worse. Have you had that time in your life when everything seemed to be happening too fast?
Think about it!
Love,
Deborah
Friday, January 31, 2014
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
The Unseen and the Unknown
Oh God! Oh God! Oh God! I cried out as my body pitched sideways towards the woodpile and the concrete next to it.
Feeling as if someone had stuck their foot out and tripped me, I sent out that prayer as my extremities instinctively sought to save me from the full impact.
My daughter, newly returned to the area had been telling me for months I needed to use a cane. The foot drop I had developed because of a very severe childhood car accident when my legs were pinned under the back seat of an old style Renault, the engine resting on them.
People came from every direction, kinda sorta rushing but not eager to find bad news. Because I am the kind of person who jokes her way through stressful situations, I don't always look hurt or helpless enough. But I was. Hurt. When I right myself, the signal from my brain to my right leg was gone. I could think 'lift' all I wanted to, but the leg would not respond.
Aid cars came and I couldn't make a decision of what to do or who to call. Lifting my leg like a marionette by the pant leg instead of a string, they put me back into my car. I laboriously replenished the car with some fuel and then somehow drove myself back to my little Island. Stopping at the fire station to see if I could have someone follow me home and help me into bed, I emerged from the ladies room pit stop I had requested in the wheelchair they insisted I use to find myself facing a gurney and an aid car. I was going to the hospital.
Life has not been the same since. In the slow wheels of medical assessment and paperwork, I am in the process of finding out exactly what damage was done. The signal returned to my leg after about three or four days. Using a walker for a month, I am now on a four toed cane. Most likely it is permanent.
It's just a cane. I have returned to a lifestyle I knew in the years immediately following the accident. I am visibly disabled.
In just three months, I have had to rework and redesign my entire life. It has pressed me so close to God, he feels like a constant friend and coach. I stay away from 'why' and instead ask 'what good can come of this , Lord?'. My prayer is for the 'bad' to be recomposted for 'good' as quickly as possible.
All my years of enduring hardship and seeming impossible challenges have provided a foundation on which I can build a new life that is positive and responsive to whatever call it is the Lord has given me; to continue the work I was beginning to do in adaptive ways.
Be bold and strong in the little days of obstacles, that during the big days of a complete curve ball being thrown your way, you are adept and surrender and listening.
Now lest I sound too noble, and in case some of you are going through the first little bit of an extreme situation, know that I spent the first twenty four hours crying out, and venting, and acknowledging my fears.
Then I surrendered the unknown to the Unseen.
I'll keep you posted. My faith is stronger than ever.
Love,
Deborah
Feeling as if someone had stuck their foot out and tripped me, I sent out that prayer as my extremities instinctively sought to save me from the full impact.
My daughter, newly returned to the area had been telling me for months I needed to use a cane. The foot drop I had developed because of a very severe childhood car accident when my legs were pinned under the back seat of an old style Renault, the engine resting on them.
People came from every direction, kinda sorta rushing but not eager to find bad news. Because I am the kind of person who jokes her way through stressful situations, I don't always look hurt or helpless enough. But I was. Hurt. When I right myself, the signal from my brain to my right leg was gone. I could think 'lift' all I wanted to, but the leg would not respond.
Aid cars came and I couldn't make a decision of what to do or who to call. Lifting my leg like a marionette by the pant leg instead of a string, they put me back into my car. I laboriously replenished the car with some fuel and then somehow drove myself back to my little Island. Stopping at the fire station to see if I could have someone follow me home and help me into bed, I emerged from the ladies room pit stop I had requested in the wheelchair they insisted I use to find myself facing a gurney and an aid car. I was going to the hospital.
Life has not been the same since. In the slow wheels of medical assessment and paperwork, I am in the process of finding out exactly what damage was done. The signal returned to my leg after about three or four days. Using a walker for a month, I am now on a four toed cane. Most likely it is permanent.
It's just a cane. I have returned to a lifestyle I knew in the years immediately following the accident. I am visibly disabled.
In just three months, I have had to rework and redesign my entire life. It has pressed me so close to God, he feels like a constant friend and coach. I stay away from 'why' and instead ask 'what good can come of this , Lord?'. My prayer is for the 'bad' to be recomposted for 'good' as quickly as possible.
All my years of enduring hardship and seeming impossible challenges have provided a foundation on which I can build a new life that is positive and responsive to whatever call it is the Lord has given me; to continue the work I was beginning to do in adaptive ways.
Be bold and strong in the little days of obstacles, that during the big days of a complete curve ball being thrown your way, you are adept and surrender and listening.
Now lest I sound too noble, and in case some of you are going through the first little bit of an extreme situation, know that I spent the first twenty four hours crying out, and venting, and acknowledging my fears.
Then I surrendered the unknown to the Unseen.
I'll keep you posted. My faith is stronger than ever.
Love,
Deborah
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
