TRAVELING IN THE WHEELCHAIR OF LIFE – Part 5: "Get Up!" - June 21, 2008

Jesus said to him,

"Get up! Pick up your mat and walk."
John 5:8

Recently, I spent a frustrating afternoon of wheeling myself to and fro in our galley kitchen, bumping my wheelchair clumsily into cabinets, and rolling over various dog appendages. My coup de maitre, however, occurred when I pulled lose the bottom shelf in the refrigerator door with a wheel of my chair, spilling pickle and jam jars—which rolled all over the kitchen.

“Rex, I’d really like you to spend a few hours in this wheelchair,” I said sweetly, later that day, “so you can see what I’ve been going through.”

Rex’s answer was swift and unequivocal: “I’ll sit in a wheelchair, if and when I have to, but no sooner.”

“Not even for me?” I asked incredulously.

“No,” sweet, and simple. My hubby is a kid at heart and I thought sure that he’d jump at the opportunity to operate such a cool vehicle, performing a few wheelies to impress his girl. Slipping my feet into his shoes, I could certainly understand his perspective, so I wasn’t (too) miffed. Between his comment and my mental “shoe-fitting,” however, I did briefly contemplate tossing the delicious dinner I had so lovingly created for him in the trash. This would be a double whammy, since I rarely cook to begin with. But being a marriage and family therapist by trade, I knew that such a reactionary response would not result in a pleasant evening. So I just made him fix his own plate.

During my fourth week in the wheelchair, our thirty-fifth wedding anniversary came—and went. I was not in a celebratory mood. I want to walk into the restaurant on my own volition when we celebrate this benchmark in our marriage. Thus, I’m looking forward to dining on—hmm—succulent Alaskan King crab legs dipped in drawn butter, perhaps. Oh, and, of course, I will thoroughly enjoy my dining companion as we reminisce the past and dream for the future.

Well, the day finally arrived when my doctor said: “Get up! Pick up your mat and walk.” Granted, that’s a paraphrase, but he gave me his blessing and sent me out the door with a few exercises to do. The joy of this day is right up there with the day my hubby proposed, our wedding day, and the births of our children. You may think I’m joking, but six weeks in a wheelchair is comparable to waiting years to meet the right man, waiting fifteen months from time of proposal until my jaunt down the aisle and back, and nine months of pregnancy (times three, equals 27 months).

I celebrated my healing with lunch at Panera Bread, followed by a leisurely shopping spree. Said spree yielded a beautiful black dress with variegated white polka-dots, to wear when we celebrate our anniversary. I have a lot to celebrate. During my tenure in the wheelchair, my long-suffering mate has been an absolute sweetheart. I’d hate to know how many trips to the fridge I sent him on, just to retrieve a Dr. Pepper or an ice cream bar. He wheeled me here, there and everywhere, loading and unloading my chair into and out of the car, in spite of his temperamental back. I could go on and on, but suffice it to say that I’m the most blessed woman alive.

I’m also very grateful to God for the medical miracles that heal hurting limbs. But more than this, I am grateful because I know that my Savior would jump tall buildings at the chance to take my place in my wheelchair. He went to the cross to save me from my sins, and now he’s said, “Linda, get up!"

I am thrilled to be on my feet again. I’m putting my six weeks of obsessing about the gift of mobility to good use by preparing a series on walking, entitled, “Walking Buddies.” I hope you’ll enjoy a stroll with me.

“Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength.
… soar on wings like eagles;
… run and not grow weary,
…walk and not be faint.”
Isaiah 40:31

JUICY FRUITY PATIENCE - Juicy Fruit of the Spirit - Part 5 - February 2, 2008

As God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with patience.
Colossians 3:8

“All good things come to he who waits.” “Patience is a virtue.” I wish that I had a nickel for every time a sagely adult offered such wisdom during my childhood—to spend on Juicy Fruit gum, of course. Yada! Yada! Yada! A lot of good those words did me when I was waiting for a new toy, a special event, a new pet (although I rarely asked permission for a pet; I just showed up at home with them), or a long awaited privilege. Patience remains an uncomfortable fit for me.

Nevertheless, I must remember that the Bible instructs me to clothe myself with patience. I think my patience is hanging askew on a rusty hanger in the very back of my closet, or maybe even wadded up under a pile of out of fashion shoes that I haven’t worn for ages.

In our spiritual closets, patience hangs out with the likes of love, joy, peace, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control (Galatians 5:22-23), diligence, faith, virtue, knowledge, godliness (2 Peter 1:5-6)), purity, understanding, (2 Corinthians 6:5-7), compassion, humility, meekness, forgiveness, harmony, thankfulness, wisdom, gratitude (Colossians 3:12-17), endurance, (Colossians 1:11), experience, hope, tribulation (Romans 5:305), suffering, affliction (James 5:10-11)—

—Whoa! Hold on there! I’m not comfortable at all with those last three garments: tribulation, suffering and affliction. Surely this is a mistake. I must have accidentally switched shopping bags with someone else while shopping. I would NEVER make such a purchase—even if it was on sale at 75% off!

Much as I hate it, patience is accessorized with suffering. The apostle Paul set an example for us to, “rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.” (Romans 5:3-4) And, “know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance,” states James. “Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” (James 1:3-4)

Life is difficult and Paul further advises us to put on the armor of God, including a belt of truth, a breastplate of righteousness, and a helmet of salvation. We are also to carry the sword of the Spirit and the shield of faith (the word of God). All the while, we are to pray and be alert. I need to dig through that shoe pile so my feet can be “fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace.” (Ephesians 6:10-18)

Sandwiched in among garments of grace, drab garments of suffering, and unwieldy armor are additional garments that Clinton Kelly and Stacy London (fashion hosts of “What Not to Wear”) would throw in the trash can: anger (Colossians 3:8), “repetitive, loveless, cheap sex; a stinking accumulation of mental and emotional garbage; frenzied and joyless grabs for happiness; trinket gods; magic-show religion; paranoid loneliness; cutthroat competition; all-consuming-yet-never-satisfied wants; a brutal temper; an impotence to love or be loved; divided homes and divided lives; small-minded and lopsided pursuits; the vicious habit of depersonalizing everyone into a rival; uncontrolled and uncontrollable addictions; ugly parodies of community.” (Galatians 5:19-21 The Message)

Recently I prepared a box of clothes for the Christian Center—which remained in the trunk of my car for several weeks. Occasionally I rescued something that I realized I could not live without. It’s painful to give up my comfy yet shrunken warm up pants and my oversized, time worn sweatshirts. I feel like me in them. But some garments simply must go; the same is true with the nasty rags that clutter my spiritual closet as well.

There’s also a pile in my closet of items in need of repair, plus a scarf that I started to crochet last winter. I don’t have much patience for mending or finishing difficult projects, but I really do need to get my closet in order.

I’ll need to dress myself in patience for the task. Patience does not drape loosely on my form, moving only when fluffed by my hand or a breeze. Practicing patience involves “concentrated strength,” said Edward Bulwer-Lytton. I’d better don my bib overalls of self-discipline, too!

"P" is for Patience: Grace Happening People Practice Patience

This is the eighth installment of a twelve-week summer series based on the anagram “GRACE HAPPENS,” each letter representing a quality that equips us to be “Grace Happening People.”

Adopt the Pace of nature: her secret is patience."

Ralph Waldo Emerson


I am on vacation in Colorado. Surrounded by the majestic beauty of the Rocky Mountains, I am intrigued by Emerson’s idea that nature’s secret is patience. What might I learn from these ancient peaks and verdant valleys and the flora and fauna gracing their landscape?

Information on Rocky Mountain National Park points out that “most Trail Ridge Road travelers drive to treeline with a certain amount of urgency,” missing out on the beauty leading up to the alpine tundra. Just reading this statement helps me slow down and absorb nature at its best. Trail Ridge Road ascends slowly through the montane (below 9,000 feet elevation), subalpine (9,000-11,400 feet) and alpine (above 11,400 feet) ecosystems, via numerous switch backs. The highest point along this forty-eight mile road is 12,183 feet. At Milner Pass, where the highway crosses the Continental Divide, the elevation is 10,758 feet.

In those rare moments when there is no traffic nearby, and we climb out of the car to take a closer look, the silence, punctuated only by the twittering of birds, is amazing—a sound, or should I say a lack of sound, that is rare in my life. I love it! I am in the Garden of Eden with Adam (aka, my husband, Rex) and God, and a bull elk who is slowly munching on a mouthful of grass—this scene framed in glorious silence. I really, really like it!

Like the Rocky Mountain tourists, I tend to travel my daily “trail ridge road” with a sense of urgency. I hurry to get to work. On my lunch hour, I hurry to run an errand or two. After work, I hurry home to feed the dogs, put the load of clothes in the dryer that I put into the washer before leaving for work. Hurry, hurry, hurry, attempting to get the “must dos” of life over with so I can enjoy the vista at the end of my day, which may be a walk in the woods, a bike ride in the country, a book, or a TV show. Inevitably, my trip up the mountain is frustrated by numerous irritations, like forgetting to stop at the grocery to pick up milk and having to backtrack to do so, my anxiety mounting and my patience bottoming out. In the midst of my frustration, I’m sure I miss numerous vistas along the way. But typically, I just want to get the day over with so I can enjoy my “alpine tundra.”

Nature teaches me that life is a process. In the midst of the intoxicating fragrance of lodgepole pines, I marvel over these inspiring spires (which I’m sure were the inspiration for church spires). At their feet are adorable baby pines just beginning their life process. Many of the adult trees are slowly being eaten alive by wood-eating pine beetles, their brown spires taking over the once green landscape. Though a sad sight, this is a natural process, occurring due to recent warm winters and prolonged low rainfall. This process of destruction takes about ten years to run its course. Fortunately, the beetles only attack the mature trees, leaving the young trees to carry the future of the forest.

My life is a process, as well. I’ve grown from being a tiny pine tree to a maturing pine tree. I have weathered storms, dry spells, and infestations. In so doing, I am better able to stand steady and go with the flow of life’s changing seasons. And I am better able to stand beside others and lend my steadiness to them through the storms and dry spells and infestations that threaten their growth and healing.

After the storms and dry spells, the infestations and blighting of landscape, there is restoration. Among the baby pines come wildflowers, their vivid colors and vast variety, inspiring hope and joy. At the worst of times in my life, wildflowers bloom.

“The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.”
Galatians 5:22-23