One Block At A Time

This week I had my (hopefully) final appointment with my foot doctor, aka podiatrist. Ugh, just admitting that I see a "podiatrist" makes me feel old! But I digress, the point of my visit was to determine when I would finally be free of my cast, affectionately nick-named Frankenfoot. After 3 months I am more than ready to wear normal shoes again. I'm also eager to start exercising, I miss my long neighborhood walks and it has been especially difficult to sit inside this week with temps in the 70s.

So here's the verdict: I can slowly begin weaning myself out of the cast beginning with 1 hour of freedom the first day, then 2 hours the next day, 3 hours the day after and so on. Dr. G also gave me the go ahead to begin taking my daily walks if I'm pain-free after wearing real shoes full time. I was so excited, until he told me to start by walking only one block.

What???? ONE BLOCK?!?! Seriously? I wondered if he was joking but no, he wasn't. He was very clear that if I overdid it again I would end up back in the cast. One block for a few days, then 2 blocks for a few days, then 3 blocks and so on.

I don't know why the healing process is so slow. All I know is I can only go one block at a time if I want my foot to heal properly. One block at a time to strengthen the muscle, increase flexibility and build stamina. One block.

It seems like most of the healing we desire is slow and tedious. Very few of us find instantaneous healing for whatever ails us.

Community healing comes from rebuilding dilapidated buildings one brick at a time. It comes from rebuilding tense race relations one friendship at a time. It comes from rebuilding the economy one job at a time.

Relational healing comes from one conversation at a time. It comes from building trust one action at a time. It comes from being known one story at a time.

Spiritual healing comes from one gut-wrenching prayer at a time. It comes from one display of grace at a time. It comes from one moment of worship at a time.

Emotional healing comes from one tiny step of acceptance at a time. It comes from one tear at a time.

But eventually healing comes, no matter how painful the process. It comes. Now if you'll excuse me I need to prop up my throbbing foot, I walked more than one block today. Oops! ;-)

Pat Robertson Does Not Represent Me!

I saw the news alert yesterday afternoon. A 7.0 magnitude earthquake in Haiti, far, far away from my cozy office in Stone Oak. I was too busy at work to take the time to check into the story further, but once I did I was stunned. I'm always overwhelmed at the damage an earthquake can cause, especially in such a short amount of time. I understood President Obama's sentiment when he made the following comment in his statement earlier today:

"for a country and a people who are no strangers to hardship and suffering, this tragedy seems especially cruel and incomprehensible."

Many people who walk in much more conservative circles than I have voiced their disbelief that our President would categorize this disaster as cruel. Others, like Pat Robertson, immediately looked to blame the very people who have literally crumbled under the weight of this disaster. And it makes me angry and ashamed to be so horribly represented by those who share my faith.

This is a time for action, not semantics and theology lessons. I am fairly convinced that during his earthly ministry Jesus would have immediately responded with love AND action. He would not have stopped to consider if the words used to describe such incomprehensible devastation were appropriate, because ultimately there are no words that can describe the physical and emotional devastation that occurred. He would have understood that the suffering feels cruel to those in the middle of it. Neither do I believe that he would have tried to claim that a "pact with the devil" cursed millions of people and led to a natural disaster in the poorest nation in our hemisphere.

As a Christian, I am commanded to follow the example of Christ. Period. Politics and theology are better served in a different time and place. Although I cannot travel to the site of the disaster I can give money and supplies to the reputable charities tasked with providing aid. Please, if you have the means consider making a monetary donation. If you believe in the power of prayer, please offer your prayers, laments or groans to the one who can make something beautiful from the ashes.

Here are a few of my favorite charities:

http://www.compassion.com/

http://www.samaritanspurse.org/

Arrivederci

I really wanted to write a positive, hopeful post full of sage advice and achievable yet lofty goals, but then I remembered that there is precious little wisdom floating around in my stream of consciousness. And lofty goals? I gave those up after I failed to meet ANY of them in the past decade. Besides, when I TRY to write something meaningful it usually falls into the "what the heck is wrong with that girl?" category, so why bother?

Here's the truth, right now I'm sad because in saying goodbye to the first decade of the 21st century, I'll soon be saying goodbye to my 30s. It's not that turning 40 is all that upsetting - aging IS the goal - and I don't have a death wish. No, it's not the number that bothers me it's not having what I thought I would have by the time that number defined me.

Have you ever heard the saying, "When God closes a door He opens a window"? I guess that's true, except when it isn't. He not only closed the door to my dreams He proceeded to put bars and blackout shades on the windows. And let me tell you, that glass is shatter-proof. The only thing that shattered when I tried to break it was my heart.

Instead of love and marriage and the baby carriage I have, um, well, hm. Oh, oh, oh I have a job and a puppy and a new car!!! All things I love and need, ALL things for which I thank God humbly and frequently, but none of them are the deepest desires of my heart. Don't get me wrong, I do love my job (mostly), and I have amazing friends and many family members close by, but I still live my life in isolation. And my puppy is adorable, affectionate and fun, but he fails to give me the kind of companionship and intelligent conversation I crave. Plus his kisses don't really do it for me, aside from the fact that he isn't human HE EATS HIS OWN POOP. Enough said. To top it off I never did finish college and make something of myself. I just settled into a middle class, dull life that affords me a new car every 10 years or so mixed in with the occasional travel adventure so I don't die of boredom. I've got mediocrity instead of passion and purpose. I often look at my life and wonder, "What's the point?"

This is the spot in the post where I should wrap everything up with a nice little bow. Insert an encouraging Bible verse. Write about how God only has my best interests at heart. State that I'm okay because He's all I need. Sigh. I guess I just don't know how to believe that in this moment of grief. And that's okay. I'm pretty sure that God is much more likely to show himself when I get brutally honest and admit my despair. So off I go to try to figure out how to "do" this life I didn't plan.

I'll end with a link to a blog post that made me laugh until I cried today. The comments are funnier than the blog, and I'm tickled pink that my own comment made an appearance early on. Enjoy!

http://stuffchristianslike.net/2010/01/being-single-during-christmas-at-church/#idc-cover

P.S. - Happy New Year!