Enjoy the Miracle of Healing

I love Facebook. I can see what people are doing and see photos of their children and grandchildren. Yesterday, I found my best friend from a grade school in Oregon on Facebook. I'm so excited to catch up with Susan again. What irritates me about Facebook, is when people post a one-liner and expect others to know what they're talking about! Perhaps, you don't know what I did from my various posts, nearly three months ago, so I'll tell you. 

On May 9, I was quickly stepping up into our RV van when something happened that drastically changed my life--and my husband Jim's--for the next three months, and beyond. I stepped up four stairs, tripped somewhere on the last two steps, and then fell. Did my ankle break while on the steps, or after I hit the ground, three feet below? I'm not sure, but it doesn't matter, for I knew I'd done something dramatic to my leg. After going to the tiny hospital in Tillamook, together with the physician on duty, we determined we should go back to Vancouver to see my own doctor for surgery. So in the middle of the night--me on the bed in the back of the van--Jim driving up front, we drove back to our town. The emergency room was waiting for me and so was the doctor on call. Surgery followed. I had a soft cast for two weeks, then they put me in this orange beauty--I chose the color. 

Lots of people signed my cast. Even someone at Disneyland! My favorite, though, was the one prominent in the photo "Enjoy the Miracle of Healing." Medical science is so good at putting broken bones together, fighting cancer, replacing joints, too many for me to mention here. But what medical science can't do is heal. That's up to our bodies. So when my doctor looked at the seven broken bones in my ankle and had to put them together with seven screws, a plate, and several pins, he did what he could do. Now it was up to my body to do the healing. 

Weeks passed. No weight on the ankle for seven weeks. I did lots of sitting and used a knee scooter which is very helpful, but still not the same as two feet. Each time I saw the surgeon, he said it was healing a little better and at last this week, he told me the ankle is completely knitted together. Most likely stronger than it was before. 

I'm working with a physical therapist, for though the bone is totally healed, my ligaments are stiff and need exercise and therapy. That will take more time, but I'm willing to do the work. 

I am grateful to the surgeon who put my ankle back together. We didn't choose him, but we found out he is a nationally recognized micro vascular surgeon and a specialist in orthopedics of the extremities.  Wow. 

I love reading the Psalms. One of my favorite Psalms is 139. That chapter has brought much comfort to me when in grief I wondered why my husbands had to die when they did.  It reminds me God knows our days and I can rest in that. I found more today. I'm going to quote from The Message, which is not as poetic as other translations, but for today, it's appropriate:

God, investigate my life;

get all the facts firsthand. I'm an open book to you;

even from a distance, you know what I'm thinking.

You know when I leave and when I get back; I'm never out of your sight.

You know everything I'm going to say before I start the first sentence.

I look behind me and you're there, then up ahead and you're there, too--

your reassuring presence, coming and going.

This is too much, too wonderful--I can't take it all in!.....

(1 - 6)

Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out; you formed me in my mother's womb. I thank you, High God--you're breathtaking!

Body and soul, I am marvelously made! I worship in adoration--what a creation! You know me inside and out, you know every bone in my body (emphasis, mine); You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit,

how I was sculpted from nothing into something. Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth; all the stages of my life were spread out before you, The days of my life all prepared before I'd even lived one day. (13 - 16)

Do those words give you a tingle like they did me? I know I can rest in those words. I can know this accident wasn't a surprise to God. 

So today, rejoice with me in the miracle of healing. And God's providential care, and love. It's real. And breathtaking! 

Vows Are Costly

Fifty years ago, I said these words:

I, Shirley, take you Bill, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do us part. 

Interesting, the vows begin with "to have and to hold from this day forward." If a couple knew what the future would be, they might hold on a little tighter.

Then come the words, "for better or for worse." We quickly learned about those words. There was more of  the "worse" than the "better" in the early years, but we learned how to experience the "better" after a time. Sometimes we aren't honest about our relationships. Was our marriage the only one with struggles? I don't think so--not if you look at the divorce rate. Our marriage had a lot of ups and downs in the first twenty years. I think all marriages have difficulty at times, we just don't talk about them. Maybe it would help other couples if they knew those times are fairly normal, and then get the tools to make them less. I won't go into what helped make our marriage better here, but I will in my upcoming book, Beyond Second Chances..Heartbreak to Joy. 

"For richer, for poorer." We had no idea really what those words meant. We weren't rich ever--but in those early days, we had little money. We were students and just starting out. Our rent was $65.00, our grocery budget, $8.00! We managed. Often there were only a few coins left by the end of the week, but we made it. 

The next phrase,"in sickness and in health" was hard to imagine at age nineteen and twenty-one, but that issue came about ten years after we married. Little Carrie Lynn was stillborn. That rocked our souls. Good health continued until the beginning of our forty-first year of marriage. After a joyous forty-year celebration, Bill became very ill. During those hard, hard days, we learned how much we loved each other and the "worse" times faded in our memories. Those sick days drew us closer together. We learned the "to love and to cherish" fully by then.

The last phrase is what every couple avoids thinking about "until death do us part." That won't happen to us, we think. But it does.

I'm so glad that at the young age of nineteen, I didn't fully realize the cost of those vows.

I thank God for His loving presence in the better or worse, richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; until death do us part. I'm reminded of one of my favorite Bible passages that helped me during those worse, rich or poor, sickness, and death:

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword.....For I am convinced that neither death nor life,neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Romans 8:35,38,39

He was there with Bill and I during all of those times, and later when I was alone. He'll be there for you, too. 

The wedding party, mostly family members

The bride and groom

Twenty-One Months

It's hard to believe this man has been in my life for twenty one months (plus one day). I'm going to relive that wonderful day. Would you like to join me in a little romance?

 It was September 4 and I was at a Women’s Connection Brunch. I'd set my cell phone on silent. While listening to a presentation, I noticed a phone call came through with an area code from the Portland. Could this be Jim? I quickly went outside to listen to the voicemail. Sure enough, I heard an enthusiastic voice saying, “Wow, this feels kind of strange, but I’m wondering if you’d like to meet for coffee this morning? Give me a call and let’s see if we can set a date!” I immediately called back and we agreed on 12:30 that afternoon. We were to meet at a nearby Starbuck’s just across the river. I smiled in excitement. What might this meeting be like?

I was a bit late, as I drove into the crowded parking lot. Meeting someone for the first time is always an adventure. Lots of times, I’m disappointed, for the person is not quite what I imagined but I optimistically thought this would not be the case. I walked toward the shop. There were a few people scattered at tables outside in the partially sunny outdoors. I glanced inside and noticed a trim man dressed in jeans and polo shirt. He had a full head of salt and pepper hair and wore wire, squarish glasses that framed his friendly blue eyes. His back was to me and he stood, looking across the crowded lunchtime group as if he spied someone across the room. 

“Are you Jim?” 

He turned to me, flipped his laptop open, looked at my profile photo on the screen, and said, “Yes. You must be Shirley.” We shook hands and Jim asked what he could get for me. 

I won't tell you everything we talked about, but I will tell you our conversation lasted more than two hours--and we could have talked for many more. We clicked. Even that day, both of us separately thought this might be the real deal. 

It wasn't long before Jim popped the question. Of course there's so much more to the story, but this is a blog, after all. I'm putting the longer version into a book. 

Someone once said to me, "Shirley, you lead a charmed life!" I don't know if "charmed" is quite right. Blessed might be the better word. I am blessed with so many surprises from God. On Wednesday, we read in Psalm 105:

Oh, give thanks to the LORD!

Call upon His name;

Make known His deeds among the peoples!

Sing to Him, sing psalms to Him;

Talk of all His wondrous works!

Every morning when I wake up and as I drop off to sleep at night, I do give thanks to the Lord. For the wonderful gift God gave to us. We nearly moment by moment, thank God for this gift. So today, I'm giving thanks for his "deeds among the peoples". 

Happy Friday everyone. I pray God blesses you as He has me.

The sign says it all

A View From A WheelChair

I'm learning while I sit in this wheelchair, it is not as relaxing and fun as it looks. If I could trade places and push instead of sit, I would. Believe me. Now that I've been here--and it isn't a permanent place--unlike some who are in wheelchairs, I've learned some things:

When in a wheelchair:
1. You see children in strollers eye-to-eye. They look at you and chuckle! A big person at their eye level is unique--and they like it.

2.  When an occupant in a wheelchair meets another occupant in another wheelchair, we have camaraderie. We always smile at one another and give a shake of the head in understanding.

3.  When sitting in a wheelchair, people look at you, curious about why you might be sitting there. I've found it's nice to smile when they look, to let them know it's ok to look.

4.  In the future, when I'm free of my "buggy", I'll always look around in a public restroom to make sure no one in a chair needs the handicapped stall. It's designed to be large for a purpose--those wheelchairs are bigger than a person and it's necessary space!

5.  Whether I'm in a wheelchair or pushing one, or just plain 'ole walking, I'm going to try to smile more. I always knew that, but I realize it even more now. It isn't that much fun in this spot, but here I am. I'm going to make the best of it. And smile. I feel better. They feel better.

6. Because of my wheelchair, my grands are learning to be servants by pushing and fetching and just being helpful in many ways.

7. It's a different view down here in the chair. I see lots of couples walking hand in hand, delighted to be with each other. I see big, tough looking tattooed guys tenderly hold a toddler's hand, I see all shapes and sizes of people. Humanity is a wonderful creation and full of beautiful differences.

The Apostle Paul wrote a long time ago:

I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. (Philippians 4:11)

In our GriefShare class, we often share with others about learning our "new normal". I guess I need to  learn my new normal--from the chair. I've been assured by the doctor I will in about five weeks, be able to put put weight on my foot with a boot cast. But for now, this is my normal. 

I'm having a wonderful time, vacationing with my family in spite of the wheelchair. I'm so grateful we were able to complete our many months in planning to spend time with this one branch of the extended Rudberg/Graybill/Mozena clan. We have many to share time and love with--and we are blessed.

Here we are at the Magic Kingdom

Thirteen Days In...

I am learning about having the attitude of Christ in this time of slowing down and the healing of the broken bones in my ankle. I don’t want to talk about me and my injury so much as what I’m learning during this time.

I am learning it can be difficult to be the one being served. I’ve always been the giver of comfort, the doer for family or spouse. Now, I’m having to ask for things because it is too difficult to do by myself.

I am learning how difficult is is to be handicapped. It’s scary in a wheelchair going down the slope of a driveway or being tipped back in the chair to enter a doorway with someone else guiding the chair. I like to be in control of things and in this case, I’m having to let go and allow someone else to fetch and push me along. Using a walker takes a lot of energy too. By the time I’ve moved from one room to another: move walker forward, use my good foot to hop forward, move the walker ahead one step, hop again. By the time I’ve arrived at my destination, I’m breathless—me the hiker, climber, outdoors woman I claim to be! All of this is new to me. And I don’t like it! 

 I’m learning I can be a servant in ways while I’m in this non-motion state. I can encourage with words. I can use lots of “please” and “thank-you’s”. It is a state I don’t particularly want to be in, but it can be used in a positive way, too. 

 I’m learning in my darkest hours how near my Savior is to me. When Jim is quietly sleeping beside me and I get niggely little fears in my head—"what if I have a blood clot and it stops my heart?", "what if I hurt myself when I move my body forward?", "what if I’m in this state for the rest of my life?" kinds of thoughts. He listens to those thoughts and fears and quietly tells me “You’ll be all right. I’m here with you.” 

I told Jim I had some of those fears last night. He said, “Why didn’t you tell me. I would have talked to you.” And I could have, but sometimes, I need to give those fears to the Savior, who loves me too. 

I was reminded by something we read this morning in Philippians 2: 5-8 You must have the same attitude that Christ Jesus had. Though he was God, he did not think of equality with God as something to cling to. Instead  he gave up his divine privileges; he took the humble position of a slave and was born as a human being. When he appeared in human form, he humbled himself in obedience to God and died a criminal’s death on a cross. 

If the God of the Universe can humble himself to become a mere human being—and die a criminal’s death for me, can’t I humble myself and submit to a walker, a wheel chair, or crutches? I can—with God’s help and a reminder of His servant’s heart.  

Shiver is serving me with her purring presence

Here in our RV, in the backseat, waiting for my chauffeur to drive me to our next destination

Stay tuned for my next addition. Hopefully this week, while I'm with family at Disneyland, I'll learn more lessons!

The Plans We Make

I try to write a blog each week, but this week was a little different.

It started with my birthday on Wednesday. We celebrated a day early so my grand girlie, Annabel and I could share the day. Annabel's is May 1, mine, May 6.  We had a wonderful Cinco De Mayo theme. Jim and Erika planned the menu perfectly. We had chicken fajitas, corn pudding, salad, and chili rellenos. For dessert, of course, chocolate cake.

Jim and I planned to take a week at the beach so I could begin completion of my next book, Beyond Second Chances. We camped at Cape Lookout State Park and enjoyed walks on the beach, beautiful sunsets and lots of writing times.

On the weekend, Jim's sister Rosaleen and her husband Ron joined us and on Saturday evening, we planned a fresh seafood fest. Ron volunteered to cook and we ate the seafood in courses. First, we had baguettes with olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Ron fried up some oysters, and we enjoyed the tasty morsels and cole slaw, took sips of chilled white wine and dipped our bread in the olive oil.

Next course was fresh scallops sautéed in butter. Divine! Ron announced he would start the next course: fried razor clams. "Let me get something to read, while you cook," I said, and dashed off to our campsite to find the paper.

Enjoying our seafood

What happened next was completely out of our plans. I stepped into our RV and tripped--I guess--all I know, I was tumbling in mid-air and landed crookedly on the ground. I had extreme pain and knew I'd done something very serious to my ankle. 

All of our nicely made plans for progress on the book disappeared. I was frustrated with the pain, frustrated that now things would be different than what we'd carefully planned. Instead of complaining about how our best made plans were foiled, I thought it would be nice to point out what did work out:

1.  There was a hospital 20 minutes from our campground.

2.  There was excellent care given there--and they recommended we go to Vancouver right away for surgery. 

3.  We used the bed in the RV to transport me to Peace Health, where they were waiting for me at ER.

4.  My surgery took place early Sunday morning--I didn't have to wait all day--performed by a leading orthopedic micro vascular surgeon.

5.  The staff at PH were wonderful caregivers and we felt like we were family.

6. Throughout this time period, we experienced God-given calmness during the all night ordeal.

I came home on Tuesday and meals were ready, a system to take care of our meal schedules were in place--Jim can't do everything after all. I received phone calls offering equipment for my convalescence. A scooter for when I can use it--a snazzy burgundy. A shower chair and other things. All because people care and want to help. 

Thank you Mary Jane!

Tonight, my sister will be here with me while Jim takes my daughter, Erika, to "Phantom of the Opera"--I was supposed to be there at curtain call, but I'm glad they can enjoy it.

I will be honest and say I wish this wouldn't have happened. That I didn't crush my ankle, have to cancel some of our plans. 

We can make plans for our future but I'm learning that the outcome can be different than what we expect.

So, I will plan. Try to finish my book. Check my calendar frequently so I don't forget what's on there, and rest in what God has ordained for my day. And not fuss too much when my plans are foiled. There's always tomorrow.

Cape Lookout--stunning view--before the accident

Comfort---and Hope

"Hope," she said. Each person was to say what they learned in our GriefShare class. This was the final session. Jim asked each person to share what they'd learned during the thirteen weeks together. Others shared, but this one word statement caught my attention.

Each person in the group had suffered ultimate loss. One, a mother. Another, a husband. A wife. A sister. A good friend. A father. Some experienced wrenching unexpected death. Others expected the death, but it still was wrenching. Each in their own way stumbled into the mind-numbing reality that their loved one was gone. There were tears shed each week, for that's often what grieving people do. There were shattered dreams and anguish shared. 

We comforted one another each week by listening to their story. But there was more. We sought the comfort of our Heavenly Father, the ultimate comforter. We learned to tell Him our sorrows and pain. 

Each morning, Jim and I read Scripture and this verse caught my eye as we read in the last letter to the Corinthians:

Finally brethren, farewell (rejoice)! Be strengthened, (perfected, completed, made what you ought to be;) be encouraged and consoled and comforted (emphasis mine); be of the same [agreeable] mind with one another; live in peace, and [then] the God of love [Who is the source of affection, goodwill, love, and benevolence toward men] and the Author and Promoter of peace be with you.

2 Corinthians 13:11 (amplified) 

Does that mean now that the thirteen weeks are over that we've arrived and there's no more pain? No. But we're a little farther down the the road of grief. Some have moved a little more forward than others. For some, it takes more time to walk the road. 

Our hope as leaders of GriefShare,is that each person can rest in those words written more than two thousand years ago--and at this time in their lives, be strengthened. Be encouraged. Consoled. And most of all, be comforted.