On the Bone

It’s there in the corner…the outer edges of me.


Motioning at me to come closer….closer

Let it climb on me…up my side, hitching up.


On me…

right at my shoulder.  On the bone.


I’ve felt this before, this invitation to self focus.  Self.  Pity.

I resist.  Every time I resist.

But, It says, you deserve to feel bad about this.  About whatever.  Anyone would feel sorry for themselves.  It’s ok.  Let it climb up there. Let it settle in.  Make itself at home. Take out how you feel on the ones around you, in your life. It’ll make you feel better.

No.  I won’t.  No.  IT won’t.

No to letting the chip feel comfortable on me.  No to the shoulder.  No to the climb.



Take me on the pathway that leads me home to You,

even through the lowlands.

Wet, murky, dim.  May be.

I choose to see Light.

In the heart.  On the bone.

Yes to the Light.






Sunlit, shoreline, where I was baptized.

This time…dark skies…leave me capsized.

Some storms claim you, some will rename you…

My hands reach high…be my Lifeline

This is the river where I went under…this is the river where I come up new


Oh , Oh God, be my Rescue.

and Save me from myself.

Watching the old me …slowly sinking

Hope is rising up, I can feel the rush.

I’m alive and I’m feeling.


Oh, Oh God be my Rescue

Save me from myself.


This is the river where I go under, this is the river I come up new

Baptized in the blood and wonder, this is the river I fall into….

When I fall into You.


Are You small enough?

So many Jerichos, so many…

One would think I would remember.

I never could face Goliath on my own.

These hands.  Gardening hands.  Reading hands. Writing hands.  Comforting hands.  But never hands to fight.

I lifted my babies to the world , my hands to touch their faces, to stroke their baby backs.

So now, this process of slipping my hands into the Strongest Hands and trusting those hands to be the comfort, the strength, the life changer.

Be small enough. Be big enough.

Heart Changer.

Tear catcher.

Life giver….

They’re just old

As I prepare for a temporary change in my life, I’m doing things like

checking the width of my wheelchair versus interior doors,

and investigating rehab facilities for post surgical recovery.

God has been so far out in front on this one, that I am amazed.

I’ve said for a zillion years that He wasn’t looking the other way when I collapsed on the floor from a stroke, and He isn’t distracted with concerns more important than mine right now.  He’s like that – utterly present for each of us.

I care about where I might go after I leave the hospital.  He cares too.  And it’s interesting to me to connect the dots and see what has linked together.

A number of years ago, I started attending a church because my grieving mom just couldn’t go alone after my dad died.  I could help her with that.  I loved church, I love my mom.  I could do that.

But she also wanted me to go with her to her Sunday school class.  Filled to the brim with elderly church members.  To.  the.  brim.

But I went.  And I kept going, Sunday after Sunday after Sunday…after Sunday.

To my utter and complete surprise, I fell in love with that class.  With those people.  With my friends.

Here’s the thing: When you fall in love, you simply see the good.  You look, and it’s everywhere.  It’s like all you can see, you’re so love-struck.

This class of elderly people is filled  to the brim with wisdom, and experience, and opinions, and heartbreak.  Tenacity.  Graciousness. Intellect.

Next time you are tempted to tell some little old lady how darling she is, or how cute her handbag is,  look into her eyes and see a woman who bravely faced breast cancer, the death of her spouse or child or who raised her children alone, went to college before women widely did so, who protested a war or started a company.  Recognize that he , just like you,  worried about his family, worked whatever jobs he could to keep food on the table, and is struggling to age with dignity.

My roommates at the rehab facility will no doubt be elderly.

I’m ready.

I already love them.

BIG Mistakes

My sixth grade teacher at Groveland Elementary said something I have never forgotten.

He said

“If you are going to steal something, steal something big.  Don’t go to jail for something little.  Steal something big.”

My 11-year-old mind did not react like my parents did when I shared these words of wisdom at the dinner table that night.  My mom’s face was horrified; my dad’s about the same.  I remember a good bit of “discussion” on stealing, and it’s consequences…

But I think I get what he was saying.


Make an impact.


Be brave.

Risk what you have for what you dream of.

Take the shot.

Say what you think.  Out loud.  And then own it.

Live and love and make mistakes. Big mistakes if necessary

and loudly claim your life.

Absolutely no idea why that memory surfaced, but I’m paying attention.

Made an impact then, and making an impact now.

At Church?

There is this man at church…a Physical Therapist, or”physical terrorist”, depending upon your perspective:-)

We agreed to meet after early service to talk for a bit.  He is an expert on helping people who need help.

I’m an expert at nothing.  Except me.

Before I knew it, there we were, down the hallway a little, and me without shoes on.

He had me walk so he could see, and that’s the part that gets to me.

That’s the part because with my shoes on, you don’t see my beyond belief  beautiful blue pedicured toes, but you also don’t see why walking is so hard for me and why I need this surgery.  And truthfully, I guess I want you to not know.  Not visually anyway.

I’m trying to have reasonable expectations.  In my head everything is quite reasonable.

But when I bared my toes off the church narthex…down the hall…with a physical therapist I’ve just met , I just want normal toes that go in lovely sandals.  I just want to slip into heels for a dinner date and descend down my stairs.  No drama

Those are not reasonable expectations. So what are?

Increased stability is reasonable.  Straight toes situated appropriately in shoes is reasonable.  Heel touching floor?  Reasonable indeed.

Floating gracefully down a staircase?  Uh…No.

Descending a staircase without tumbling down and landing in a heap?  Reasonable, and certainly a goal

Depending on God to secure the outcome?  Certainly not reasonable in so many minds and hearts.

But in mine, that’s my plan. That’s always been my plan.