Pimp My Walker

The ice on the parking lot that forced me to waddle like a penguin with a lame knee should have been a more recognizable harbinger of what that Friday was to bring, but I didn’t realize it at the time. In fact, I wouldn’t realize much until later, when the drugs wore off.

Earlier that morning, before my ten year old sprinted across the snow and bounded up the steps of his school bus on two good knees, we prayed for my bad ones, the left of which was to undergo surgery shortly.

After praying for my son’s day, he asked how I would specifically like him to pray for mine. Let me just say it up front: I hate anesthesia. I don’t like feeling I’ve lost control. It’s not my body I worry about. It’s this big mouth of mine. I talk under anesthesia and other strong medications and I am pretty sure I am the ONLY one interested in my conversation.

Example: It was morphine that coaxed my brain and my mouth into thinking it was perfectly okay to refer to my three pastors as “Curly, Moe and Larry.” To their faces. (That’s not to say I would ever call you fellas that behind your backs!) It was nitrous oxide that whispered something hysterically funny in my ear, causing me to slide like a slimy snail down the wall of my dentist’s office, leaving me so limp with laughter that it took the dentist, his assistant and my sister together to pour me into the car so I could be driven home.

No sir. I do not like anesthesia.

So that was my prayer request of my son….to pray that the surgery would go well and there would be no issues with the anesthesia.

God bless that boy of mine. He can pray the house down when he has a mind to. He interceded for me in a big way and my heart was moved because I could tell this kid has been spending time in prayer on his own. I was certain he had God’s ear. Even right up through when he asked the Sovereign Creator of the Universe to make sure everything went well with my “amnesia.”

Amnesia. Ahhh. If only….

I arrived at the surgical center a little later that morning, accompanied by my intrepid partner in crime….my older sister. Does anyone else have an older sister who makes you laugh at the absolute most inappropriate times? Or who can lay waste to your dignified demeanor just by making eye contact with you? That is my sister….a riot looking for a place to happen.

Knowing I needed to have my knee repaired but not looking forward to the pain that was to come, I was a little aggravated that the surgical nurse would page me on time. Is it NOT in the oath required of medical personnel to make their patients wait until madness nearly sets in before calling them for their appointment? How DARE she be on time! And to add insult to injury, she was a cute, perky little thing whose every word and every move dripped with reassuring sweetness that implied everything was going to be just fine. I almost fell for it until she asked which leg they were working on for me. DON’T THEY KNOW???

Little “Miss Cute And Perky” left the room and was promptly replaced by “Miss Tall, Blonde and All Legs Perky.” Know what she asked me? Yeah! “Which leg are we working on for you today?” For crying out loud!!! Are you SERIOUS?

Know what else I totally don’t get? Hospital gowns. Why bother? Miss Tall, Blonde and All Legs Perky handed me a gown and said “It ties in the back.” WHO CAN GET THEIR ARMS BACK THERE, SISTER? Do I LOOK like a lithe contortionist? No! I am ROUND, sweetie. That’s how I roll!

Well, I got into the gown, but could only get it tied around my neck. Every time I took a step, the resulting breeze caused it to billow open like a Superman cape made from your grandma’s ugly old curtains. The view must not have been too pretty, either, because Miss Tall, Blonde and All Legs Perky said “Oh HONEY! Let’s get you tied up in back!” Am I the ONLY one who has noticed that even if you were to duct-tape a hospital gown shut that it would STILL fly open at your most vulnerable spots? I humored her and stood still while she battened-down my hatches.

A few moments later, now on the gurney and waiting to be taken to surgery, I looked up to see my doctor stroll in. He was in far too good of a mood, blue eyes twinkling like (as my sister would later tell him) Santa Claus’. Know what he asked me? You do TOO! And no, I am NOT kidding! He asked which knee we were working on!!! They gave me a big old purple surgical marker and told me to put an “X” on the knee he was supposed to fix. (Small wonder that he did not ask me to draw a map of where “x” marks the spot!)

No sooner was I wheeled into surgery than I was waking up and it was all over. After I came back to myself, my sister told me that she had told my surgeon – as I knew she would – that his eyes twinkled just like Santa Claus’. I am sure that flattered him to no end. Every man wants to be seen as dangerous. This poor guy…he’s dangerous like Santa. And I am the one who has to go back and face him while trying not to burst out laughing. See, my sister is trouble even when she is NOT around.

The surgical center outfitted me with a walker before I left. Learning to use it has been quite an experience. Right away I found it much easier to go backwards than forwards. I am sure there is a spiritual lesson in that somewhere. And I’ve been thinking, too, about how I might “soup up” my walker.

My son wants to paint flames on it to give the illusion that I am moving fast. Personally, I would like a single headlight, a bicycle horn, basket and turn signals. I also want driving gloves so I can at least look cool…and I may hang my license plates from my bum so I can be street legal. A friend who pastors a church told me I need a “honk if you love Jesus” bumper sticker for my backside, too.

What do you think?

Come up with ideas to “pimp my walker” and as a thank you, I’ll let you hang out with my sister. Really.

I Found My Noodle!

So there we were, driving to a dental appointment on a cold January afternoon when my ten year old son and I shrieked in joyous unison!

There before us, in all its majestic glory, we saw the “sign” we had been waiting so long to see.

We saw the increased traffic flow and all the happy people going inside and all the satisfied people coming back out. New life had been breathed into a dead and empty building. THE NEW “NOODLES AND CO” RESTAURANT WAS FINALLY OPEN! It was their GRAND opening, in fact!

In case you haven’t figured it out yet, “Noodles” is our favorite place to eat and as you may surmise by the name, their menu is centered around Noodles, the ULTIMATE comfort food.

We could scarcely wait for the dentist to finish cleaning my son’s teeth. We wasted no time filling the complimentary baggie with toys from the treasure chest after my son’s appointment. Small talk at the check-out desk consisted of a very fast “hey-how-ya-doin’-do-I-owe-you-anything-today-no?-great-thanks-bye!” We moved SO fast past that desk that I am certain I saw the resulting “breeze” run its fingers through the hair of the lady sitting there.

Unintentionally reminiscent of the The Three Stooges (Whoop! Whoop! Whoop! Whoop! Whoop!), my son and I made haste to the exit and attempted to squeeze through the door side by side. Have you ever tried to squeeze through a door side by side with someone else? It’s like trying fit both hands into one glove…it doesn’t work and it’s very uncomfortable.

After a few awkward moments, we popped through that exit like a champagne cork pops out of its bottle (you can HEAR the sound that makes, right?). I am certain we broke all land-speed records running to our car. (YES! We are PASSIONATE about Noodles.)

Piling into the car and giggling in hysterical anticipation, the “click” of our seatbelts snapped us back into the horror of reality: My son had been given a fluoride treatment and we had to wait a whole agonizing 30 minutes before he could eat. I admit I did consider for a brief instant whether his dental health was worth the wait. In the end I managed to exercise self-control. But what to do with 30 minutes to kill, knowing that bowls full of steaming hot noodles slathered in cheesy goodness were waiting just for ME? I’ll tell you what we did.

We circled that restaurant in our car like a shark getting wound up for a feeding frenzy.

Finally, the 30-minute ban on consumption expired and we went into the temple, er…restaurant. Everyone was so friendly. The atmosphere was warm and inviting. It was like…(I think I’m tearing up)…coming home.

Having placed our orders and gotten our beverages, we sat down at our table for two and anxiously awaited delivery of our Wisconsin Mac-n-Cheese.

A young server with a sweet disposition catered our table a few moments later. He seemed genuinely happy to see us and wanted to chat just a moment before transferring our bowls from his tray to the table. In all reality, he probably talked less than 30 seconds, but when the palate is anticipating warm cheddar, 30 seconds is an eternity.

As the beast of anticipation arose within me, I could almost feel my knuckles growing wild hair. I gained understanding of why my Labrador Retriever salivates when she smells food. I think my nostrils may even have expanded! Just as I was about to bellow forth with an otherworldly voice “SON JUST PUT DOWN THE FOOD AND BACK SLOWLY AWAY,” he served us and I managed to stretch my twitching lips into a thin smile of gratitude.

My son and I let go with a simultaneous “ooooooh” and then plowed through those noodles like it was our job.

A manager stopped by to ask whether we were enjoying our food. He wanted to know if we had tried the Chinese hot sauce that had been placed on the table for our convenience. After I conveyed my delight with the stuff, he offered to hook me up. Could anybody REALLY be this generous? AND FRIENDLY? Was this a legit offer or was this a covert Chinese Hot Sauce sting operation? Would I be arrested if I accepted the offer? Would I develop a lifelong addiction? I finally came to my senses and decided I was on a noodle high and maybe it was just the cheese talking. I thanked him and went back to my bowl.

Why is it that you never see people you know in public until you’re face-down in the trough, cheese stuck on the corners of your mouth, one sock up and the other down around your ankle – which is exposed, by the way because your pants leg decided to rise up on that side ONLY – and your hair looking like it is reaching toward heaven in spontaneous praise of God? And why IS it that when this happens, the person you see is herself dressed immaculately and professionally?? Oh well. I am betting by the time she left Noodles, she was in no better shape than me.

So do me a favor. Next time we see each other out and about, if you’ll promise not to draw attention to the cheese stuck on my face and the stray, drying macaroni noodle stuck to my shirt….I won’t draw attention to yours.

Bon appetit!

1 Thessalonians 5:8 - ….let us be self-controlled….

1 Corinthians 10:31 - So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.

I am Consumed with Worry....

My mind is consumed with worry.

The economy is in bad shape. Jobs are being lost. Debt is piling up. No one knows what to expect with the transition in presidencies. People are hurting and fearful.

My mind is consumed with worry.

Not that “I” am worried. But I am consumed with thoughts of the worries of people I care about.

Worry is an ugly, mangey beast with long, razor-sharp teeth that tear at the soul and shred the fabric of peace in our lives. It is the monster under the bed that chases us through our dreams, causing us to lose sleep. And we are not content to allow the enemy of our souls to batter us with worry…we humans have a tendency to receive the weapon with open hands and use it to club ourselves.

We even worry when we are NOT worried because we fear we should be worrying and if we are not, then something is SURELY wrong with us.

Silly, isn’t it?

I love Jesus’ discourse on worry in the gospel according to Matthew. Do you remember what He said?

"…..do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?

"And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."

If the Savior of my soul who - knowing what He was about to face but who went silently to the cross anyway for my sake – says not to worry, then why should I?

I am so encouraged by what Peter wrote to us those many centuries ago when he penned these words about worry and what to do with it. Speaking of our Lord, Peter said cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.

I remember the morning a few years ago when I rolled out of bed, sheets rumpled from a restless night of fretting and I told the Lord I just didn’t have the energy to put forth on worrying anymore and that from now on I wanted to take Him at His Word. I am certain that is what He was waiting to hear.

He said "peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. " (John 14:27)

I used to beg God for peace. Now I understood He had already given it. My prayer changed to “help me rest in the perfect peace you have already given.” And He did.

I used to be painfully explicit in giving God instruction in how He should answer my prayers. Now I could hear Him saying “…when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him.” (Matthew 6: 7 – 8)

If God knows what we need before we even ask, then what are we to do as we wait for those needs to be met?

Matthew 6:33 - But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.

Sometimes we are tempted to take things into our own hands again anyway because God seems to be late in responding to our trust. We forget that He said to "Be still, and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10)

Our willingness to ”be still” is evidence of our trust. And we can trust Him in the waiting because we know that not only will He supply our need, but He (Ephesians 3:20) “is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine.”

So, the question should not be “are you worried,” but rather, “Do you trust Him?”

Worry never changed anything.

Trust in our Lord? That changes everything.

Seeing is NOT always "Believing!"

You would think that someone who has lived to reach the wise old age of 46 would know better. What you “see” is not necessarily to be believed.

Meteorologists had predicted a snow and ice storm for my town over the weekend. Like thousands of other lemmings, I trekked to the supermarket to lay in some staples: bread, milk, eggs and toilet paper. (Does ANYbody really appreciate what an overlooked blessing toilet paper is? Do you realize that in some 3rd world countries they use their bare hands to, um.. take care of business? Eeew!)

Ready for the storm, I arrived home and put away my purchases..shoving aside the small penicillin farm growing in the leftovers in the fridge to make room for the perishable stuff (I know, I know…I really need to clean that out) and hiding (yes, HIDING) the new four-pack of toilet tissue lest it be squandered and I be stranded at home without…trapped in my house by that whopping ¼” of ice and 3 – 5” of snow we were to get.

The storm that was forecast turned out to be the storm that never was. Not that I am complaining, mind you. 1/10th” of ice and just 2” of snow was fine by me. Even better, by midday Sunday it appeared the stuff was beginning to melt. If you can believe what you see, anyway.

Needing to load up some clothing and books destined for a charitable organization, I hoisted a box up on my shoulder and trotted out the door to my car. I never made it. At least not in the way I envisioned.

Where there had been snow and ice on the driveway, I now only saw puddles of water. Water was even dripping from the roof. Unless God had completely rearranged the laws of physics as I slept the night before, water where there had once been frozen stuff was STILL a sign of melting, right?

What I didn’t realize because I could not “see” it hiding in plain sight, was that there was a considerable patch of ice under that water. Yeah. I know you know what came next.

Remember those New Balance sneakers I was so proud of in my last post? Their traction is worthless on ice. (Why don’t they disclose THAT in their advertising? C’mon! Even Conair attached a label to my blow-dryer warning me not to use it in the bathtub. They must have known I was going to buy that very one…)

Do you ever wonder WHY - when you’re in the process of falling - time slows down and you have far too much time to think? And do you ever wonder why - as you’re falling - you don’t think “OH NO I AM GOING TO BREAK EVERY BONE IN MY BODY,” but wonder instead who might be watching as you fall on your pride and break it to pieces?

One minute I was upright, confident. The next I was wobbling like one of those “Weebles” toys that were advertised some years back. You remember them. “Weebles wobble but they don’t fall down?” I think they wobbled without falling because they were egg-shaped. I’m sorta egg-shaped, but it didn’t work for me. I busted my weeble right there in front of God and everybody.

I fell forward, in sloooooooooooooow motion, landing on my hands and knees and as I knelt there wondering who was watching, I fell again…somehow rolling onto my side. I lay there for what seemed like an eternity, taking inventory of my limbs and digits to be sure I could still move all of them without pain. It was the c-c-c-cold water soaking through my jeans that jolted me back into the here and now and compelled me to get up.

Get up.

Yeah right.

Rolling back onto my front side, I did one of those “girl pushups” they teach you in middle school…only to have both arms and knees splay out in four different directions on the ice. Imagine a gangly baby giraffe trying to stand for the first time and you’ll have an accurate picture.

Somehow, my hands finally found purchase and I was able to prop myself up on one knee, but my lesson in humility was not over. I realized quickly that I was not going to be able to stand without falling again because I was still on ice. Have you ever seen Chuck Berry play guitar? You know that thing he does where he hops along on one bent leg with the other stretched out straight in front of him? That’s how I had to travel across the ice to make it to my car. I stayed low to the ground, but I didn’t look anywhere near as cool as Chuck Berry.

Ultimately, I completed my mission and delivered the box of “stuff” to my trunk. I decided “charity” would have to wait for better weather to get a donation from me. Hadn’t I then and there given enough???

Safe inside the house a few minutes later, I soothed my bruised ego with a slice of sausage pizza and thought about the act of “falling down” and how – spiritually speaking – God protects us.

Psalm 145: 13-14 says of God, Your kingdom is an everlasting kingdom, and your dominion endures through all generations. The LORD is faithful to all his promises and loving toward all he has made. The LORD upholds all those who fall and lifts up all who are bowed down.

I like the way that same verse is worded in The Message paraphrase, too - Your kingdom is a kingdom eternal; you never get voted out of office. God always does what he says, and is gracious in everything he does. God gives a hand to those down on their luck, gives a fresh start to those ready to quit.

Whatever the season, be it the slippery dead of winter when your feet won't stay under you....or spring in its surefooted newness of life, God is just sooooo good

Never Follow A Sheep Wearing New Shoes

We have a dress code where I work. We’re supposed to look professional, not casual, so it was a real treat to get to wear my brand spankin’ new sneakers that day.

They’re “New Balance” sneakers. “Cross-trainers” to be exact. I guess that means they’re suitable to wear when training for more than one sport and you know what? I have found that to be a true assessment in their advertising.

I use mine for extra traction on those short sprints between the refrigerator and the television AND for slower-paced activities, like toddling toward the bed for a nap... and they work just great! But that’s beside the point.

It was sheer laziness that compelled me to get dressed in the dark “that day.” I mean, the light switch in my bedroom was just a mere three feet away as I slid my big old double-wides into those sassy new kicks (that I had also been too lazy to untie the night before when I took them off). But you’ve got to understand: it was 4am. No human being in their right mind wants lights shining in their eyes THAT early in the morning, right? Of course not!

Because new shoes trigger a powerful chemical reaction in a woman’s DNA that makes her feel super-human and on top of the world, I was pretty confident about getting dressed in the dark. I even managed to get my underwear on right side out and facing forward this time. THIS, my friend, was going to be a gooood day.

I strolled through the doors of the radio station where I work around 4:35am. I walked as tall and proud as a short, round person can, marveling at the sure-footed effectiveness of the tread on my New Balance sneakers as I trundled back and forth from carpeted surface to tiled surface.

I walked with purpose all morning long, just waiting for someone else to admire my new shoes as much I did. But nobody EVER said a WORD! FOR CRYIN’ OUT LOUD! Did they utterly LACK the ability to recognize “cool” when it was in their midst?!!

Disappointed but undaunted, I made my last circuit around the building just before noon. Silently grousing, I decided that if no one ELSE was going to bother to admire my shoes, I would just do it myself.

Bouncing on my heels into a dimly-lit back room, I stopped…breathed in the gloriously deep breath of anticipation…and looked down upon my queenly feet.

Oh no. No! No! No! No! No! No! NO!

The dim light was surely playing tricks on my eyes. I blinked several times in an effort to ensure clarity of vision and then…I looked down again.

Having gotten dressed in the dark that day out of sheer laziness, as I have already admitted, I stared in wide-eyed, pride-crushing horror at the fashion faux pas on my feet. I was wearing one beautiful, pristinely white New Balance sneaker….and one old, broken down New Balance sneaker that hadn’t been white since at least the fall of 2006.

Guys, I know you don’t understand the agony of the situation. And I am sure you don’t know THIS, either, but we gals secretly ADMIRE that men have no conscience whatsoever about wearing two different colored socks in public and never letting that ruin your day. All you care about is that they are clean, but even THAT is negotiable if you can turn a dirty sock inside out so it LOOKS clean. Rock on! More power to you! Women just aren’t wired that way.

All that pride I had been wearing on my squared shoulders as I strutted like a peacock that day now sat heavily in the pit of my stomach as I feared stepping back into the light from that dark room LEST someone see me.

As I quietly thanked the Lord that no one had noticed my sneakers, He flooded my mind with the wisdom of His Word.

It was the seduction of laziness that had gotten me in trouble to begin with. Proverbs 25:15 - The sluggard buries his hand in the dish; he is too lazy to bring it back to his mouth.

I was bloated with pride over something as silly as new shoes! Proverbs 16:18 - Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall. (Ouch!)

Again, as I thanked God that NO ONE had noticed my shoes, I was certain I could almost hear Him giggling and asking, “How do you KNOW they didn’t notice? Perhaps they did, but my grace was upon you?” 2 Corinthians 12:9 - But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."

I thought to myself, “We really ARE like sheep in need of a shepherd…except I am not sure I am even as smart as mutton on the hoof.”

In an instant, my self-righteous pride had vanished into humility and thankfulness that God loves me in spite of my silly self, and that when I realize my error and confess it before Him, He shows me compassion through His Son. Mark 6:34 - When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd. So he began teaching them many things.

“…..He began teaching them many things…”

Indeed.

It's amazing what God can teach us by using the least likely tools we might imagine. I'll never get dressed in the dark again.

Psalm 136: 1 & 23 - Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good. His love endures forever…..to the One who remembered us in our low estate His love endures forever.

"Tai Chi Latte"

To my fellow appreciators of all things coffee, I thought you might appreciate this. But in my own defense, in one way or another for the past six weeks I have been on medication that makes me silly.

Wanting something hot to drink this chilly January afternoon, I surrendered to the allure of Starbucks. I honestly believe my car has a homing device that causes it to automatically steer in that direction.

I really didn't want what I ordered. I MEANT something else. Like most women, I am given to saying one thing and meaning another. But that's another story over another cup of coffee on another day.

Pulling up to the drive thru box I was greeted by Miss Congeniality 2009. By the way...you DO know there is a tiny camera mounted in the drive thru box and Miss Congeniality can actually SEE you rolling your eyes at her syrupy sweetness on a special screen hanging just above her cash register, right? It's true!

Anyway....I confidently ordered a Tai Chi Latte'. Tall.

I heard my ten-year-old groan from the back seat.

I turned and asked "WHAT is it NOW?"

He responded, "It is NOT a TAI CHI Latte. It's a Chai Tea Latte."

(For those who are unawares, I offer this simple definition of Tai Chi: it is a form of martial arts)

It was over for me at that point.

The giddiness of laughter hit my elbows and rendered my arms useless before it tumbled out of my mouth. I promise you I was so paralyzed with humor at my own stupidity that all I could do as I sat there blocking traffic in the drive thru lane was laugh like a hyena.

I finally regained enough composure to make it the rest of the way around the building to pick up my beverage. I can only imagine what the Starbucks baristas were thinking as they watched me laughing hysterically for at least three minutes from behind the dark sliding glass of the drive thru window. I am sure they thought I was drunk.

Miss Congeniality opened her hallowed portal and popped her head out just like a prairie dog rising from his earthly den to take inventory of the plains. She was everything Miss Congeniality should be: a blonde, blue-eyed, bubbly, petite little thing with perfectly straight, blindingly white teeth...kinda like Chiclets gum spaced with precision in her mouth by a wizard of dental masonry. She had the audacity to ask me how I was doing.

I burst out laughing again.

Tai Chi Latte.

Who knows but that subconsciously I just wanted a real "kick-butt" drink! HA!