Tattooed Ankles

Yesterday was a bit comical. Two doctors in one day. One: I have a sinus infection. Two: My MRI on my knee is complete (but I have to wait until June 8th for the results).

After my first doctor's appointment, I went to the pharmacy to fill my prescription. There was a man there waiting for a prescription as well... and he had the coolest tattoos around both his ankles. Seriously very cool.

I finally got my prescription, bought a cool little plant from the Trader Joe's next door, and went home. Watched a little TV and relaxed and then was off to my MRI appointment.

And guess what? Mr. Tattoos on his Ankles was there too. Ha! Smmaaaaaal world friends. We laughed, talked about how broken our bodies are right now and then both got MRIs.

"Take care," he said as we parted ways.

It was nice to make a random connection like that with a stranger. Wish that happened more in life. Just saying.

Anyway, that's it. Random I know.

In the literal sense of the word

I feel broken... literally.

My knee still has not healed. I went to an orthopedist yesterday. Got x-rayed. Getting an MRI tomorrow. Torn lateral meniscus? We shall see. We shall see very very soon. I'm not sure what to hope for. If its torn then I can get surgery and finally be on my way to a full recovery. If its not, then what the hell is going on with my knee and how much longer will it take to heal? Its already been 4 months. The doctor says my quad has atrophy... meaning the muscle is diminishing from less usage... he didn't mention any other options besides a torn meniscus. Needless to say, I'm ready for some answers. I've got mountains to climb in July... serious ones. And so I need some serious answers. And a seriously quick recovery.

My head hurts. It feels like its either going to explode or implode... not sure which one. Hope neither happens... but then again, if it did it probably wouldn't hurt anymore. Ugh. Sinus infection maybe? Should go to the doctor, but I'm getting sick of doctors. What to do? What to do? More coffee...

I fell on my wrist the other day. It still hurts. Not sprained.... merely annoyed, or strained. In any case, typing bugs it. But that's what I do all day, so I may as well continue and keep trying to ignore it.

So, when I fell the other day, the impact on my wrist must have also impacted my upper arm/shoulder/deltoid/i don't know what muscle it actually is, but it hurts. And blow drying and straightening my hair is taking longer because the hurting arm/shoulder requires breaks from being used. Blah. Good thing I didn't miss my bus this morning.

The irony? Everything that hurts is on my right side. Feel free to call me a right-sided gimp for now. My left side won't take offense.

The dichotomy between good, strong, courageous and adventurous... and stop! slow down! don't do that! ouch! is driving me crazy... Which side do I listen to? Can I listen to both at the same time? Not sure...

Ok, my gripping is over. Everything will heal in time... hopefully the time will be fast, quick, like the speed of light. I'm crossing my fingers... on my left side. We'll see if that helps.

L-O-V-E

This weekend was truly amazing. My good friends Taylor and Carly got married...

and my heart is oh so happy...

yep...

Joy-filled.

Treading Life

Am I at a standstill? Have I been in the same spot for the last year? Or am I moving forward... or backward... or back and forth?

I recently re-read some posts I made a year back... and I feel like I'm behind from where I was then. Discouraging? I'm not sure. More like accepting. Accepting where I'm at, what I've learned (or at least am trying to learn)... and looking forward to where I'm going (which I'm not entirely sure where that is).

So, for now, just call me the Dawn Treader... I'm sailing through this ocean called life and I'm definitely afloat... just trying to figure out how to work the compass right now. And how to trust the compass.

For now, Frederick Beuchner's prayer is mine:

Father and Lord,

Most near and most far, listen to our silence before thee as well as to our prayers, because often it is the silence that speaks better of our need. Speak thy joy into our silence. Breath thy life into our less than life, not for our own sakes only but for the sake of those to whom, with thy life in us, we may ourselves bring life.

Much as we wish, not one of us can bring back yesterday or shape tomorrow. Only today is ours, and it will not be ours for long, and once it is gone it will never in all time be ours again. Thou only knowest what it holds in store for us, yet even we know something of what it will hold. The chance to speak the truth, to show mercy, to ease another's burden. The chance to resist evil, to remember all the good times and the good people of our past, to be brave, to be strong, to be glad. We know that today as every day our lives will be touched by thee and that one way or another thou wilt speak to us before we sleep, for the very moments themselves of our lives are thy words to us. Give us ears to hear thee speak. Give us hearts to quicken as thou drawest near. Amen.

Do your eyes see?

I was at Westlake Center the other day after work. The goal was to simply kill some time before I met up with a friend for some good happy hour chatting and solving all the world's problems.

Well, before my friend and I discovered the cure to cancer and injustice, I took steps toward the glass doors that would lead me out of Westlake... and I saw him.

A very tall man.

At least 6 foot 5 inches.

Skinnier than a rail.

Shoulder bones protruding through his thinly worn striped shirt [which actually reminded me of Jacob's amazing technicolor dream-coat].

Plastic shoes.

No socks.

High-water pants [he was really tall].

Long, curly, uncontrollable hair...

Bearded.

Arms hanging at his sides as if they weighed ninety pounds.

Two-inch long fingernails [no joke]... truly nasty looking... yellow and brittle.

And as he shuffled toward the door, it became apparent that this man carried the weight of the world on his shoulders... literally. No doubt his life has been a mixture of hardship, pain, unfairness, injustice... and hopefully a little of love, courage and hope too... all of which have worn this man down.

And as he approached the doors [me walking behind him] he stops... and waits. And watches.

It becomes clear to me that this man does not have the strength to open a simple glass door. His freedom relies on the random passersby... all of which I watch walk right past this man... never giving him a second glance. Never looking him in the eye. Failing to notice his desperate presence. Refusing to bring him to freedom.

So, I take the plunge. I walk past this man and see that he expects the same indifference from me. But as I open the door for myself and walk out, I turn and hold the door open... and he realizes its for him.

And he looks at me. And it is a piercing stare straight into my heart... one of which either comes directly from satan, or from Jesus. Its hard to distinguish because it burns deep, makes me want to run away as fast as I can... left me feeling vulnerable in the deepest sense. Like there was no way to hide.

I tell him to have a good day. Turn. And walk away.

---

I don't know who that man was. I never will. But he makes me think of Jesus... waiting to be recognized by the world who is so often too busy to notice. Waiting to make eye contact... waiting for our willingness to allow him to see deep within our souls. A piercing look that forces us to either run further into the dark or out into light. It makes us nervous. And it should. Because Jesus is anything but safe. And he pursues refinement in our hearts, souls and minds. And he will refine us in whatever way we make him... but we must look. We must see. And he will continue watching and waiting for us until we make the first move to open the doors of our hearts and let him walk through to lead us into freedom.

Hebrews 12: 1-12

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.

In your struggle against sin, you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood. And you have forgotten that word of encouragement that addresses you as sons:

"My son, do not make light of the Lord's discipline,

and do not lose heart when he rebukes you,

because the Lord disciplines those he loves,

and he punishes everyone he accepts as a son."

Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as sons. For what son is not disciplined by his father? If you are not disciplined (and everyone undergoes discipline), then you are illegitimate children and not true sons. Moreover, we have all had human fathers who disciplined us and we respected them for it. How much more should we submit to the Father of our spirits and live! Our fathers disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, that we may share in his holiness. No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.

Therefore, strengthen your feeble arms and weak knees. "Make level paths for your feet," so that the lame may not be disabled, but rather healed.

---

Sharing in His holiness...

Oh, for the love of...

Ok, people. I'm ready to bear all... here it goes... take a deep breath with me...

... for the past three months or so... I was dating... yep, a catholic.

Haha. Yep, its true. And many of you already know... but I was dating a catholic for a little over 3 months. The guy in question was quite brilliant really. I mean, everyone has their rough-around-the-edges spots, but he was truly wonderful. We had so much fun together. He made me laugh. He made me smile.

But it just can't work.

No, its not because he's catholic. That doesn't bug me as much. It's really because our lifestyles differ. Our viewpoints on several big things don't line up and therefore, it just can't work. It just won't work.

And can I just say it really sucks? Because I really do like him. And he likes me too. But relationships aren't just be about feelings.

Right?

I mean, when it comes right down to the nitty grittiness of love, I just don't believe that "all you need is love." Love is not only about feelings. Its about a choice: A decision made to embark on a journey so beautifully intertwined that even when differences and anger abound (which of course they will), honor and respect are chosen above all things. And that's a lot easier said than done, my friends. And if morals, life philosophies, actions and beliefs differ between people, then choosing honor and respect will be that much more difficult. Perhaps even impossible.

A little daunting, really.

And how will life decisions be made if two people view them differently? And look to different things to find truth? If foundations are not the same, then all you're asking for is hardship.

And even though he seems perfect for now. He is not perfect for later. And therefore, it just can't be.

And you know what? Aside from the whole love thing, I really really want to be able to share my whole self with the person I "live happily ever after" with. My whole entire self. And that includes what's in my heart. It includes who I run to for my hope. My peace. My deliverance. And if the person I choose to love does not understand or know that part of me... well then, they will never know who I truly am. What I strive to live by... and for. And that would devastate me. That in itself would be far worse than living alone. And I refuse to let it be so.

But refusing is harder to do than to say. I'll be honest. I still want to hang out with him. Okay, I'll be even more honest... I am still hanging out with him. In a friendship sense. I think. I hope. I'm trying.

No one ever said life choices were easy. They aren't supposed to be. If they were then we'd never learn or grow.

So, all of this to say... I'm in a learning and growing process right now. And it takes time. So bear with me.

Like I said, I really am trying.