UNCONSCIOUSLY Successful

The ways to measure progress are a numerous as the situations in which one is looking for change. When it came to my elbow recovery, my therapist measured it numerically. His goal was to get my arm to open up to within at least ten degrees of horizontal, and he was diligent in his efforts to achieve it. From heating pads to bicep muscle massages to physical manipulation of the affected arm, he used every tool in his arsenal to loosen things up. Stopping only occasionally to briefly measure his success, he'd jot the numbers quickly on his hand in black sharpie before getting back to work, being careful not to lose any of what he had achieved in the process. For him it was primarily a numbers game, and he wanted to be able to give the doctor a positive report.

My surgeon saw things differently. Success in his mind was more subjective in nature, related more closely to restored function than any actual numeric value. He wanted me to be able to return to the lifestyle I enjoyed before the injury and to reenter the work force comfortably once more. In his view, the straightness of my arm mattered only to the degree that it helped me achieve those goals, and his advice and the expectations he expressed reflected that mindset.

Progress in my world was marked by the degree of surprise I experienced each time I suddenly noticed I was unconsciously using my arm in ways I had done before the injury. I would be in the middle of an action when it would suddenly hit me that I was using my right arm as before, rather than compensating with my left. All movement would then stop completely for a moment of surprised wonder, celebration, and gratitude. Those moments gradually multiplied in frequency and situation, and were the measuring stick I used in gauging my recovery.

Many are the ways we monitor spiritual progress, as well. Some of us set numerical goals, as in Bible chapters to read each day, verses to memorize, minutes to pray. Diligently we work at the words we say, the sins we avoid, the good deeds we achieve, all in the hope of hearing a positive word from God on Judgment Day.

But God sees things so differently than some of us imagine. Numbers matter little to Him, while changed hearts are huge in his estimation. His goal is to make us into the image of His Son, and He looks to see Jesus' likeness in the love we express in our everyday lives.

How do we measure our progress in that regard? Likewise we see it unexpectedly, when we suddenly realize we no longer lust for things we used to long for, or harbor hate over hurts experienced in the past. Perhaps we'll unconsciously say the right thing in a difficult situation, feel compassion in areas where there used to be none, or surprise ourselves with a sudden willingness to serve others in some capacity. Suddenly we stop as the revelation hits us, our eyes look up and our hearts connect in gratitude with the God who is working within us and likewise celebrates our every victory, no matter how small.

These are the moments God lives for, success measured in sights that delight His eyes and words of love that His heart more than His ears longs to hear.

“The Lord thy God in the midst of thee is mighty; he will save, he will rejoice over thee with joy; he will rest in his love, he will joy over thee with singing.”

(Zephaniah 3:17 KJV)

TIME TOGETHER

When the doctor told me after my accident that I would be off work for 6-8 weeks, I felt like I'd just won the time lottery. As the time got extended month after month, I smiled as my winnings multiplied. Who doesn't dream of taking a break, of having a several-month sabbatical to simply rest or do whatever their hearts desired? Mine came upon me suddenly, so I had no time to prepare ahead of time about how I would spend such a wonderful gift or consider what I would and should do. I didn't want to waste it.

Initially I made lists. I wrote down the things I'd said I would love to do if I could just find the time. Quickly I realized that one way to waste the time would be to halfheartedly start on several items and not complete any of them because I had simply picked too many. Better to make just a couple of choices, give myself wholly to them and accomplish them well.

But which ones? Guilt over chores I had neglected for years battled against the desire to try something new. And just as Powerball winners are besieged with monetary requests from long-lost relatives and even total strangers, I found the same to be true with my sudden allotment of time; lots of other people wanted to lay claim to it or had ideas of how it should be spent. Then there were the many ordinary life events that I often missed out on because my work schedule wouldn't accommodate them; here was my chance to enjoy some of those. Adding to the confusion was the fact that everything initially took longer than usual to accomplish because of my arm injury, and there were doctor visits, physical therapy appointments and exercises I needed to do at home to fit into the mix, as well.

Obviously the need to get my arm fully functional again took center stage. I did what was required at home and attended therapy sessions as scheduled. In the middle of a publishing project when the accident happened, keeping pace with the writing assignments my editor was sending me became a similar priority. When my husband was about to hire outside help for some transcription work he needed done on a writing project he was working on, I took the job on myself in an effort to reduce expenses at a time when my income was reduced, as well. I forced myself to help him with some decluttering projects and yard work I'd normally avoid, simply because I had the time to offer and enjoyed the surprised look on his face when I volunteered. And then I wallowed in all the church services, prayer meetings, home Bible studies, softball games, birthday celebrations and televised sporting events I so often had missed because of my work schedule. Extra time with my husband was a special blessing. I had a full and satisfying stay at home.

One of the greatest pleasures during this time was my unbroken fellowship with God. I didn't necessarily devote extra time in this pursuit; it just developed as a matter of course once the distractions of my regular lifestyle were removed. A new awareness of His presence permeated everything I did, and as we chatted, laughed, and sometimes even cried our way through these last few weeks, the time became more precious as a result of spending it with Him.

Perhaps one of the purposes of these last few weeks was to remind me that “free time” is really just a state of mind. My allotment of 24 hours each day is always mine to spend as I please, despite the demands of a daily routine. And the more of that time treasure I spend with God, the more I find I am simply rich beyond measure.

“Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might...”

(Ecclesiastes 9:10 NIV)

Climbing Out of the SHOPPING Rut

When you work in a grocery store it's easy to fall into the habit of shopping every day. As I got my purse out of my locker at the end of a shift, I'd pull out the fabric shopping bag I kept inside and told myself that I was just going to pick up a few things. Perhaps lulled by the smaller daily dollar figures at checkout, I was blind to the weekly totals I was amassing due to my buying frequency.

That changed dramatically when I injured my elbow. Initial grocery store runs were of the emergency variety only, and accomplished in the companionship of my husband who hates few things worse than shopping in crowded food marts. Driving difficulties kept me home-bound more than usual, so my later visits to the store became add-ons to other reasons for going out, such as necessary doctor visits and scheduled physical therapy sessions. Limited in my ability to push a cart, shop and carry everything on my own, I was much more selective in my choices and kept my buying on a smaller scale.

I was surprised at how well we survived and even benefited by the change in my shopping habits. We became more diligent in eating up leftovers, wasting less food. I opened the freezer and cabinet doors and cooked whatever I found inside. Going through the shelves made me realize how much money I'd lost on outdated items I found there. The money we weren't spending at the grocery store helped make up the shortfall caused by my reduced income in the weekly budget.

The positives in this “elbow interruption” of my lifestyle have spread to other areas of my life, as well. I have come to realize how easily we fall into ruts in our living and thinking that sideline us from the easier road we were meant to travel. Like the textured warning strips on highway shoulders, sometimes it takes a rough spot in the road we're traveling to open our eyes to the issues we were blind to before.

“...One thing I do know. I was blind but now I see!”

(John 9:25 NIV)

RECALCULATING My RESPONSE

A preacher I listened to several years ago used the following analogy, but there is a difference between hearing a message and living it out. Apparently I needed the reminder to approach life in a flexible state of mind and to approach a change of plans with a willing and expectant heart, rather than an aggravated one.

While I generally have a pretty good idea how to get where I'm going when I get in my car, sometimes I need direction at the latter end of the trip to navigate side streets and roads I am unfamiliar with. I am grateful for GPS systems of all types that help me get to where I need to go. When I make a decision that doesn't fit the route the system had selected, it just figures out a new way to get to the destination based on my current location. The dashboard models often show the word “recalculating” on the video screen while the computer inside figures out how to adjust to the direction I've chosen. The voice coming out of the speaker never varies in tone or volume; there is no hint of aggravation or frustration aimed in my direction. The system just accepts my driving decision and adapts itself accordingly. And God would be oh so happy if I would simply learn to do the same.

He and I have been on an interesting journey these last few months. We came out of the starting gate of the new year in fine form, and I was full of plans for the year ahead. Suddenly a slip on the ice, a broken elbow...recalculating. Several weeks in a brace, some physical therapy, and I'm hoping to head back to work. Oops...arm stuck in a 90-degree angle, more surgery necessary...recalculating. More weeks in a brace, more physical therapy, ready now? Not yet, needs more time...recalculating. Approved to go back to work, eagerly checking schedule, can't wait to start. Are you kidding me? I'm assigned a vacation week...recalculating.

Finally I get it. I'm not the one making decisions here. God sees the big picture of my life, while I'm caught up in the day-to-day details. He knows where He's taking me and the road I need to travel to get there. Often I don't understand where we're going or why we're headed this way. But my questions do nothing to change the direction we're traveling. How much more peaceful the trip would be if I would just acknowledge that He knows best, trust Him to do what's right for my life, and simply follow the directions He gives without question or complaint.

The Israelites lengthened their stay in the wilderness they were traveling through by complaining against God and rebelling against His authority. Some of them never got to their destination at all as a result. I learn from their example that it's my attitude that needs adjustment, and God will continue to alter the route we're traveling together as necessary until it arrives at the place He knows it should be.

“Many are the plans in a person's heart, but it is the Lord's purpose that prevails.”

(Proverbs 19:21 NIV)

QUOTING a Positive Word

I mentioned in the Let Him Clip the Chip post that God wouldn't let me speak a negative word over my elbow situation. Instead He filled my mind, my journal pages and my life with positive thoughts, pictures and Bible verses, directing my focus in their direction, instead.

The Bible tells us that God knows what we need, and that sometimes He has His answer in place before we even ask for help. Surely that was the case with me. Before I slipped on the ice that night, a coworker and I had been comparing notes on the weather conditions outside and discussing the driving difficulties we might encounter on the way home. I ended our discussion with the affirmation, “We're going to be fine.” I didn't realize at the time that the phrase was more than just an easy end to our conversations; it was instead the beginning of God's promise to carry me through a situation that hadn't even occurred yet. As situations developed over the next hours, days and weeks, God brought me back to those five words time and time again, and soon I came to realize that they were divinely rather than casually spoken, as repeatedly they chased fear and doubt away and left peace and hope in their wake.

As my first physical therapy appointment approached, I had no idea what to expect in terms of difficulty and found I was imagining the worst without having any basis for doing so. I asked God for something to change the direction of my thoughts. He gave me a silly little equation that I could easily remember and repeat when worried: PT=EZ4ME. PT is easy for me. I mumbled it constantly ahead of the first session and encouraged myself with it whenever I encountered an especially challenging moment or two in the middle of one. I reminded myself that difficulty would not be part of my experience, that PT was easy for me. And so it became; I looked forward to my sessions rather than fearing them.

There were times when despite the physical therapy in progress I doubted that my arm would ever be fully recuperated. To fight my growing negativity God took me to portions of Scripture describing Jesus' encounter with a man with a withered hand. Jesus told the man to stretch forth his hand, and when he did so, it “was fully restored like the other one.” He seemed to impress upon me that eventually the same would happen to me. I claimed that experience as my own in faith. And it seemed that whenever my belief in that promise would weaken, I would run into that story again, described in another one of the Gospel accounts. God kept it ever before me. One morning however as I looked despairingly at my right arm that seemed perpetually bent, He whispered, “You're looking at the wrong arm.” And suddenly I understood what He was saying. We become what we focus on. I was looking at the bent arm instead of the straight one that I was working towards. From that time forward I deliberately watched my left arm do the very actions I was trying to duplicate with my right and know that eventually their performance will be the same.

God is all about health and wholeness and encouraging us along the path of experiencing the same. In my case the muscles that needed the most therapy were surprisingly not the ones in my arm, but those in my mouth, my eyes, ...and between my ears.

“Words satisfy the mind as much as fruit does the stomach; good talk is as gratifying as a good harvest. Words kill, words give life; they're either poison or fruit – you choose.”

(Proverbs 18:20-21 MSG)

PEOPLE and Their PROBLEMS

We were a little early to the morning church service, giving me a moment or two to get settled in my chair and look around me. It's easy to people-watch in a church as large as ours; I looked about for a few familiar faces to greet while my husband went to look for a friend outside.

It was then that I spotted a blonde teenager and her mother slowly making their way to the row in front of me. My interest in the girl was piqued first by the sight of her crutches, and then by a black hinged brace on her leg very similar to the one I wore protecting my elbow, only bigger. Because of that brace connection I found myself drawn to her, wondering in what way she had injured herself and how her recovery was coming along. When the “meet and greet” time in the service arrived, I moved a little closer and asked.

“I tore up everything in my knee,” was her reply. We chatted for a minute about recovery and laughed over her success in getting her jeans on this morning so she could come to church. The moment passed and the church service continued, but I likewise continued to gaze around me. I was suddenly astonished at what I saw. Seated a few rows in front of the girl was a woman who had her entire right forearm and wrist wrapped in white gauze, holding it gingerly in front of her. A man in the next section had a cart beside him holding his oxygen tank, the tubes from it running into his nose so he could breathe. To my left was a guy in an arm brace similar to mine who carried himself in such a way as to suggest it was perhaps shoulder surgery that required the arm support. One after another I saw people around me with bandages and wraps, and marveled at what a banged-up bunch of believers we were that morning! Did I miss the “recently hospitalized” seating designation in our section perhaps?

Instead I later realized that God was just trying to make a point, illustrating it in a way I would understand. My attention was drawn to these people in particular because we had a common condition that I could understand and relate to. But truly everybody in that building came in with wounds they are in the process of recovering from, because all of us have experienced trouble to some degree. Some have physical wounds like the one s that were so visible to me, but probably most carried hurts on the inside where they are less obvious but equally painful. For some the pain is still fresh, the hurt intense, while others are moving along well in recovery and still others have only the scars to show what they've been through. The point is that we have a common cause that unites us and gives purpose to our days as we strive to help and encourage each other on our way through this life.

Normally I find it difficult to talk to people I don't know, but the sight of that familiar hinged brace on the girl's leg propelled me to overcome my timidity and address her. That same morning I was coming out of the restroom when another woman spotted my arm brace as she was coming in. “I wore one of those! What did you do to your arm?” She went on to tell me that she had done the exact same thing and that she had made it through and was now fully functional back on her job, words I needed to hear at a time when I was wondering if complete recuperation was possible. Her encouragement made a big difference to me that day.

Time after time, complete strangers have seen my brace and asked me about my arm, and I have appreciated their interest and concern. Yet God's concern is for those who are struggling with the less visible injuries; He desires that we become more diligent in looking for signs of suffering and reach out to those we can relate to based on what we ourselves have gone through. It's how the addicts among us find recovery, the lonely find fellowship, the confused find direction...the lost get found. If we carry Jesus in our hearts, we have the Answer that somebody else needs, if we just took the time to notice the question in their eyes.

“...He comes alongside us when we go through hard times, and before you know it, he brings us alongside someone else who is going through hard times so that we can be there for that person just as God was there for us...”

(1 Corinthians 2:4 MSG)

Rediscovering OXFORD

When we moved to Ohio many years ago, we landed on a beautifully tree-laden piece of property out in the rural countryside. North of the city of Hamilton and east of the college town of Oxford, we were content to be situated pretty much in the middle of nowhere. Before the kids arrived we spent our time and our money in both of the nearby cities. But once our boys were born and I was no longer working, our activities seemed to be centered around the latter location. From their births in the local hospital, to visits to doctor offices there, and then to the library, and eventually attending swimming lessons, soccer games and martial arts classes...we were in town as much as the students who lived and studied there, it seemed. But when our sons became school-age themselves they attended a small school with no bus service in Hamilton, and the daily ferrying them back and forth to class gradually pulled us away from the little town we once spent so much time in. By the time they were grown and gone I had been working for some time at a grocery store on the west end of Hamilton, and Oxford offered nothing more to me than a convenient Starbucks stop on the way to the state park on the outskirts of town.

All that changed when I broke my elbow. At first, I confess, it was a matter of pride. Unable to fix my hair or put on my make-up, I simply didn't want to be seen by people who were familiar with my more put-together self. Then the convenience factor entered in; I simply knew too many people in Hamilton after scanning their groceries for ten years, and visits to my old store with all the necessary greetings and explanations for my absence, while enjoyable, simply took up too much of the day. I took to visiting the Kroger in Oxford where I could shop incognito and quickly. My doctor's office was in Oxford, and soon I started going to physical therapy multiple times per week there as well. I started stopping in at the local McDonald's for free coffee on Mondays, returned my library books to the building itself instead of dropping them in a bin outside my workplace, got my car washed in the local drive-thru, and even found the Oxford branch of my credit union that I knew existed but had never taken the time to find. I discovered a wonderful new breakfast spot to kill time in between appointments. With time on my hands I haven't had to hurry through town but have looked around me with new appreciation at the beautiful college buildings, the lovely landscaping and the abundance of trees. I have simply enjoyed driving the brick-paved streets again and rediscovering the lovely place I spent so much time in during another phase of my life.

Breaking my elbow has afforded me a chance to do the same with other areas of my life, as well. I've reacquainted myself with joys that were put aside when a forty-hour work week replaced my unscheduled duties as a stay-at-home mom. Once again home-bound for a time, it's been wonderful to spend time with pleasures put aside when time pressures were constantly calling my name. Perhaps the most significant of these has simply been to let my mind dwell in the presence of God. While there really has been no change in my personal devotional times, which have simply gone on as before, my mind has been freed up from attention to other duties, and I've delighted in the increased awareness of God's nearness in all aspects of my life and simply spending time in thought and prayer and conversation with Him, a joy that an increasingly busy lifestyle gradually pulled me away from.

While checking out at the grocery store in Oxford the other day, I was suddenly mugged with a hug from behind by a dear friend whom I hadn't seen in ages. When our kids were little and we attended church together we had once been very close, but life situations and distance had reduced our chances to get together on a regular basis. Now she works in Oxford and dashes to the store on her lunch break, where we happened to run into each other. As we laughed and talked at lightning speed, the illustration was not lost on me; my elbow “break” has caused me to rediscover the joy of several old “friends”. I'm determined not to lose the joy of their companionship ever again.

“ A friend loves at all times...”

(Proverbs 17:17 NIV)