Unforced Rhythms of Grace

Today I was supposed to go and visit my Dad. He lives on a nice creek. It is a beautiful day out. I got a few kilometers down the road and the ‘Service Engine Soon’ light in my car came on. I just brought my car in last week and I trust the mechanic so I don’t think my car is going to blow up. Yet it didn’t make sense to chance a drive all the way out there. I was really disappointed. I found myself stuck there (in the disappointment) and not knowing what to do about it. I have been fighting with myself all day. It would be so easy just to go and buy something or do something else I shouldn’t. I felt God calling me to Him hours ago. So what did I do? I played a video game for two hours. Why do I believe these lies? I know that missing out at a day at the lake isn’t the end of the world. I could have recovered the day quite nicely. Yet the little things are adding up and getting to me lately. I realized this afternoon that it isn’t only my car’s engine that needs attention. I can’t let

A few weeks after my surgery my foot started to hurt. It started as an ache in the middle of the night that seemed like a cramp. Two days later I was icing my foot and I could barely walk. The pain kept me awake. Even the strong medication I had didn’t put a dent in the pain. I woke up in the middle of the night and my foot was so swollen that I thought I might have a clot. I went to the hospital and I didn’t have a clot. But the doctors there couldn’t really help me. They didn’t know what the problem was. When the pain in my foot started I was so discouraged. It was like adding insult to injury. I was getting better after the surgery. I was going for walks everyday. I was almost ready to go back to work and all of a sudden it was horribly painful to walk again. This time the pain wasn’t part of a healing process that I knew would be short term. It has been a very difficult year for me physically. I hurt my wrist last summer and went to physiotherapy for months. Then I h

When I was first home after surgery I could only really focus on taking care of myself. I made sure that I either gave myself a sponge bath or took a shower, prepared meals that always included a fruit or vegetable, made sure I got enough protein, went for walks, drank plenty of water, got plenty of rest. Although I was healing and often extremely tired I did notice that when I did feel good I felt really good (the opposite was true too.) I realized today that it was probably a function of taking care of myself. It is ironic that as I have returned to my normal routine a lot of that has gone out the window. In some ways I found myself yearning for that time of intentional self care. I miss the rhythm I had of getting up and focusing on healing and wellness. I had a list of things I absolutely had to do to take care of myself. That was my only job. Now I find that I am always focusing what is going to happen when I get to work or wherever I am going. I don’t miss the pain or t

About 18 months ago I started a bible study with a couple of co-workers. The bible study was called Experiencing God by Henry Blackaby . One of the concepts Blackaby talked about was that the truth is a Person. We talked about that in our study. It really didn’t make a lot of sense. Part of me knew I understood it on some deep level and I just couldn’t explain it. I think I also had a sense that it was something very important. As I have told the story of my appendectomy through this blog one thing has become very evident to me. When I just simply wrote what happened and how I felt God was very easy to see. God was in every moment of it, guiding me, caring for me, protecting me, sending people to care for me, prompting people to pray, reassuring me that I would be okay, helping me turn to Him. The truth is not some static concept. The truth is a Person. It is the Truth that sustains me.

This morning I realized that my Mom would have turned 65 last December. I started thinking about the ‘what-if’s.’ If my Mom were alive I would have planned a really big party for her. I would have made it a surprise party but she would have found out. I would rent a room in the back of a restaurant that had food my Mom loved. My family would be there. My brother would be alive too (I mean if you are going to be in the what-if’s you may as well go all the way) and there with his wife and three kids. I guess that at least two of my brother’s kids would have driven themselves because they are adults now. I wonder what my life would be like if my Mom were still alive. Would we live together still? If we lived together where would we live? I wondered how our days together would look like. Sharing meals together would be a nice experience to have. I have lived on my own for so long I barely remember what it is like to live with someone else. Although I was 22 when my Mom died I was only tech

Yesterday I realized I was really happy and calm. I thought about it and there wasn’t really much of a reason. Work is challenging right now. My foot is still very sore and it is often difficult to walk. It was raining which usually makes me irritable. Yet here I was. Happy for no reason. I cherish those times when I feel that way. I did not will myself to cheer up. I believe that God does that for us. I know life isn’t about being happy all the time but it is sure nice when it happens. I had a great evening out with a friend. We laughed so hard we were in tears. It sucked that Chapters was closing and we had to leave.

When you have surgery they like to paint you with iodine. I mean they don’t just paint the area where they are cutting or even what you would think would be around it. They paint feet around the incision. The iodine needs to come off. After my surgery, in the middle of the night, the nurse was explaining this to me. They were going to clean the iodine off. I had the orange iodine stain from half way up my stomach to about a quarter of the way to my knee on my leg. A medical aide cleaned it off for me. For some reason this process has become a light bulb moment for me. I remember this humble kind young woman gently cleaning off the iodine from my skin. There was a light on in the room over my bed but it was still pretty dark. It was just after surgery. I couldn’t move very much. I certainly wouldn’t have been able to sit up. I was exposed and vulnerable to her. The woman slowly took a cloth with warm, soapy water, and cleaned off the iodine in sections. She would clean a s

Earlier in the day, when I was in the first hospital, I had thought about the kind of patient I wanted to be. I thought about the fact that I am a Christian and I should be shining light into the world. I tried to be as polite as I could. I tried to express my gratitude to the people that helped me and always say thank you. I think for the most part I did that. Yet I think I had more in mind. Did people know I was a Christian by something other than the presence of pastors and church people at the hospital? Did they know me by my love? I don’t think they would have. When I woke up from surgery I was not prepared for the pain I would experience. The first thing I remember is the anesthetist saying, “Wake up Misty, the surgery went well.” The next thing that immediately followed it was an explosion of pain. It was worse than before the surgery. I just kept saying (screaming to the extent I could) “Ouch, it hurts, ouch…” I think I started to panic. “I also remember saying tha

Are any among you sick? They should call for the elders of the church and have them pray over them, anointing them with oil in the name of the Lord. (James 5:14) While I was in the emergency department a couple of people came to see me. The first was my pastor and the second was my best friend’s husband. After being home alone for 36 hours in pain followed by being in two different hospitals for 18 hours before they took me to surgery it was amazingly comforting to see people I knew. I also had a sense of being taken care of. I ended up having someone with me until I was taken up to surgery. While my pastor was there he anointed me while oil and prayed over me. I believe that is the moment that God saved my life. Later the doctor told me that the appendix was really bad. It had perforated in a way that was safer than if the main part of my appendix had ruptured. My appendix was ½ hour to 45 minutes away from rupture. I was already really sick and weak. I didn’t have a lot of reserve le