SIDELINED

SIDELINED.  Out of commission.  That’s what I’ve felt like the last five weeks.  Sidelined from teaching, from going out in the community doing things I love, and from exercising.  It hasn’t been easy. 

I think I’ve left our condo six or seven times since my ankle surgery Jan. 2^nd other than for doctor appointments.  Each time entails having to be carried down three flights of stairs to the elevator, where I’m put in a wheel chair or manage crutches til I get to the car.  I saw my first sunset at the beach a few nights ago.  It was heavenly.  I keep thanking my husband for that.

You know how when you are camping how you miss certain foods so much that when you taste anything close to them it’s so much better?   The sunset was superb the other night.  I sat on a picnic table perched above the sand and drank in every second of it. I watched the way the sun illumined  the waves, and how the people and the  palm trees were colored gold.  As the red orb  sank below the horizon, I lifted up both hands, worshiping God.   Just to be at the beach, to hear the waves, to smell the salt, to watch my boys playing with my husband as he knelt down for the thousandth time to get just the right angle on his camera...priceless.

I’ve been discovering layers of benefits during this SIDELINED season.  

I see more clearly.  I usually sit out on our lanai each morning with my coffee and a bowl of cereal.  I read some of the Word, pray over my boys, and look out at the surf.   But now I do this differently.  It’s sweeter out there in that fresh air.  I no longer take it for granted.  I can’t carry my coffee or my cereal to the table, so usually rely on my younger son to do this as Evan and Randy have already left for school.   That’s hard.  Jo Jo has been on it though. So what have I seen from my lanai?  I use the binoculars daily.  I notice colors in the waves that I haven’t perceived before.  Today I watched a mother whale and her calf surface and play in the bay at Queen’s Bath.  I watched ten different boats circle up, like me, taking in every spout, every fluke, every magnificent breech.  It was fabulous. I quietly observed them for a half hour, sipping my coffee, and exclaiming aloud to nobody. 

I dig more deeply.  Like I said, I usually read some part of the Bible each day.  Usually there is no order to it, other than maybe following a little devotional  I’m on.  It’s usually pretty quick as I’m grabbing something to stand on before heading out the door to teach.  Not now. I can read the Word for hours if I want.  Sometimes I have.  After a while I decided to read a Proverb a day.  It’s perfect as there are 31 chapters in Proverbs.  I read through it slowly because I can.  Then, I cull a handful of verses that jump out at me.  They may be completely different ones than I’ve underlined in the past.  Sometimes it’s stuff I’ve been praying for my boys, sometimes it’s just what strikes me that day.  But it’s all good.  I ponder it, write it, think or jot a few thoughts down, and then turn it  into a prayer.   I’m digging deeper than I have in a long time.  I’m finding scriptures  on wisdom and understanding are spilling out of me.  They kind of hafta.  They’re piling up in there.  Here’s a new favorite:  

                “The purposes of a man’s heart are deep waters, but a [person] of understanding, draws them out.”  Proverbs 20:5

I’m resting. Like most Americans, I’m probably guilty of not keeping the Sabbath . Now I do.  I usually collapse onto my bed about 10:30 each morning, as it is so exhausting just eating breakfast, hopping around the house, making my bed, attempting to put away clothes from the night before.  My mind says I should not be tired, but my body begs to differ.  I rest.  I lie there in my fleecy blanket  and doze.  Or I read a chapter in one of three books I’m reading.  It’s heavenly.    I know I’m gaining weight from not being able to get up and out.  My doctor has commanded me to be a good patient.  “Thou shalt not do stairs.”  So, I am and I don’t.  Pounds are being put on, but it’s not that bad.   I joke with my husband how I’m getting one of those curvy figures like the classical artists used to paint.   He seems to be enjoying this new curvy model of his previously-slim Kris.   J

Layers are coming off.  Though pounds aren’t coming off, layers are.  Last night I scraped off layers of dead skin from my foot, now freed from its cast.  I could see there was so much more to come.  I took a bath this morning, and used a rough wash cloth to scrape and scrape and scrape.  My orange-tinted toes from the hospital antiseptic became pink again.  I swear I lost a pound of flesh into the tub and waste basket as I scraped all that gross stuff away.  I couldn’t help thinking of Aslan and Eustace in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, when that selfish boy-turned-dragon allows the lion to scrape off his old self and bring out the tender boy underneath.  A symbol of baptism, Eustace cringes but allows for the scraping, the removing of the binding for that which is free underneath.  I want to be like Eustace.  I know there are many more layers of pride and selfishness still to go. 

I welcome the season.  Hey, I’m in good company.  My hero Heidi Baker had the break-through in her ministry in Mozambique when she was sidelined for health reasons.  I realized this morning how Paul was sidelined when he was tossed in prison, or tossed on a remote island after a shipwreck.  Yet, he still plugged into God.  He still wrote letters of encouragement to people in his life.  I want to be like that.  I wrote one letter today, and know I have more to write, thanking people and speaking into their lives. 

One old friend called from Portland the other day.  She and her family were having a hard time adjusting in their new church.  It struck me that they are a unique couple, and need to find just the right niche for their giftings.  I reminded her of her gifts of evangelism and extra grace for people on the streets.  She had a talk that evening with her pastor, and found out they did have a whole department for street ministry.  They’d plug in the next week.    Even though I was stuck at home doing nothing, even on crutches and SIDELINED, I could still listen and draw out the purposes in her heart. 

INUNDATED WITH BLESSINGS--EVEN ON CRUTCHES

Something cool happened last night, Night #3 after surgery, as I got up in the dark and grabbed my crutches to use the bathroom.  I was in a fair amount of pain and didn’t want to wake my hubby who had served me so much since the surgery. 

As I hobbled out of the bathroom, grimacing in pain, I suddenly had a realization.  It was like a landslide of recollections of where everything came from—like one of those back-to-basics talks we often have around the holidays about how every good gift we have comes from God.

Starting with those crutches that held me up.  I recalled Alison, the campus nurse, meeting me after hours in the health clinic to secure those for me, having already positioned them to my height.  She got me the wheelchair as well, even though I didn’t have my checkbook on me for the $100 deposit.  It would have been OK if that hadn’t worked out because my neighbor, Ralph, called to offer his wheelchair, having seen Randy’s post on our in-house website. When I pondered how many people had gone out of their way just for my equipment, I  pictured the text that had arrived that day from David, a guy on our campus who had had a foot procedure days earlier from the same podiatrist.  He was just checking in with me, making sure I was recovering OK. 

Speaking of that podiatrist… Dr. Mark Senft, is a renowned foot doctor, who happened to have gone to the same high school as my dad and who was recommended by two other friends.  That’s not normal to have an excellent specialist in any medical area on this island.   Other than an occasional cast or baby delivery, most people go to Oahu for advanced health care.  But I didn’t have to.  God provided that.   As I rounded the corner on my crutches I glanced at the huge tropical bouquet that my sister in-law and mom had picked out, full of my favorite flowers. There was also a basket on the floor of  fresh fruit and chocolates from my friend Ingrid who’d stopped by hours earlier to show some Aloha. 

I resolved to shift my perspective from how-hard-this-is to how-good-God-is. 

It is He that provides all that I need in the easy times and through the hard times.  It is He that has given grace to my husband and boys to tirelessly serve Mom, bringing me water and pills, my phone for the hundredth time, or a blanket. 

A common phrase today is, “You got this!”  I say it to myself as I balance my cast on the waste basket each time I lower myself onto the toilet.  But I need to change my chant to “He’s got this!”  He has it, like cattle on a thousand hills, hand-picking just what I need from the hand-picked Bird of Paradise my mom got me, or the hand-picked muscle ointment my friend Dee delivered on Day 1.  God’s got this!

While I’m writing this, I am interrupted by a knock at the door.  Ingrid, my Norwegian downstairs neighbor, decided to deliver some freshly-baked raisin rolls.  Just what my queasy tummy needed from this pain medication!  God is good!  It occurs to me that He doesn’t just have it, he has it in the perfect timing! 

“My God shall supply all of your needs, according to His riches in heaven.”  Riches like steamy-warm rolls, and lovingly-scrawled cards, and hugs, and chick-flick movies from my hubby who would never watch “Moms’ Night Out.”  God has it. 

It reminded me of what happened when I was pregnant with Evan and needed to transform our office into a baby nursery after my brother in-law moved out when I was seven months along.  Only, Randy wouldn’t let his pregnant wife wield a paintbrush with strong paints that we were using to seal up the paneling. So, I had to trust God as he prompted friends to step up to get the job done.  I realized just before the baby arrived that something like 17 friends and family members had pitched in to help get the room completely ready.  It was a wild recollection!

Last week when I was preparing for surgery and really had no idea what to expect, a girlfriend from Portland called to fill me in on the O.R.  “It will be really cold, ‘cause they have to keep the machinery cool.  Oh yes, you don’t have to leave right away.  If you aren’t ready or feel  sick, request to stay longer.”  So I did.  These perfectly-placed pointers landed in my ears hours before surgery-time. 

Another insight came before surgery.  It was a “still small voice” over a couple days reminding me that my husband is absolutely worthy of my trust.  He is so strong in the laid-back and taking-care-of dept., that I can trust him when my own life seems out of control.  I just needed to recognize those little reminders from my Father, that Randy’s got this.  That God’s got it, working through my husband, and neighbors, and girlfriends, and family x a thousand hills. 

I WANT TO BE AN HERB

I WANT TO BE AN HERB                                Written in November, 2014                                          

           No, I’m not touting reincarnation, but I just wonder how I would do as an herb.  

This morning I was on “kitchen duty” in our cafeteria.  That meant getting up quite early to scan ID cards of breakfast-goers by 6:15.  I found myself enjoying the morning.  I hadn’t been to breakfast before in the new cafeteria.  The view was splendid.  There was a cool breeze.  I watched the sun approach Hualalai volcano, pause and stretch the edges of its rays over to the south and north, and then climb over, inch by glorious inch.  The expansive floor and round tables were bathed in golden light, causing the green plants in the centerpieces to pop with color. 

I tried to be cheerful for the bedraggled college students and families as I took their meal cards and scanned them.  I thought, “If I’m cheerful in staff meetings and while teaching, why shouldn't I be cheerful here right now—even if I’m not a morning person?” 

When my shift was over, I strolled by bush after bush of fresh herbs, intentionally placed by the landscapers of the Aloha Lanai Cafeteria.  I plucked off a couple favorites:  fresh basil and lemon balm.  I rubbed them in my fingers and breathed in their fragrance as I climbed in my car.  It occurred to me that whichever leaf I pulled off that basil bush would smell like basil. Each tiny or large scalloped-leaf on the lemon balm tree would smell like minty-lemon.

 

I got thinking about those herbs.  They had multiple uses:  they were attractive greenery.  They embellished our meals, and they were healing agents.  Recently I invested in some essential oils, and I know their healing effects: oregano helps with foot fungus.  Lavender minimizes stress.  Lemon oil increases a sense of well-being and can clean up gunk and residue on the arms of my wooden chairs. 

I’d like to be one who whatever way you catch me, or rub up against me, you get a fragrance.   You get Kris all the time as one who is helpful and cheerful and enthusiastic.  You don’t smell complaining or whining, you smell Jesus. I’m not saying I’m there yet, but I don’t want to be someone who hides my face when things aren’t going well.  

David Hamilton, one of the Bible scholars in our ministry, talks about integrity.  He says it’s an unbroken line from the very roots of what someone believes to the fruit that yields from those beliefs.  They are consistently the way they are, not sometimes on, sometimes off.   But like a mint leaf which emits its smell more strongly when crushed, I believe my fragrance will come through those difficult circumstances.

Paul and David talk about similar concepts:  “…For I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances: whether well-fed or hungry, whether in plenty or in want. For I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” (Phil. 3: 11b-13) I don’t think it’s just doing the all-things, it’s being able to be content whatever the circumstances.  “Whatever happens, conduct yourselves in a manner worthy of Christ.” (Phil 1:27) Even if you have morning kitchen duty.  Even if you work with people who are not doing well and you have to wade into their issues a bit before you get through.  “He shall be like a tree  planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither.  Whatever he does prospers.” (Psalms 1:3)

GOD, HELP ME TO BE AN HERB.