Learning to walk again…

I wasn’t feeling very well, and he wanted me to do something that I wasn’t sure I could do yet, let alone wanted to do. But he made me. Physically. He lifted me out of my bed, stuck a crutch under each arm, and made me stand up. I mistakenly told him that I needed to go to the bathroom, and he said, “Good! Let’s go.” Left.

Just after knee surgery, I thought, was a poor time to try to walk on it, and see if it was going to work. But my physical therapist decided that there was no time like the present to re-learn to walk. I was only seventeen, had torn my cartilage playing tennis with my dad, and had just come out of surgery that morning. “Carefully,” he said, “take a step forward.” Right.

It was strange thinking that I needed to learn how to walk again. Step, check your balance, step, check again. Left. Right. Left. Right. With each step, forward motion was made, and I found myself making my way up and down the corridor of that hospital in Tucson. Left.

It is amazing how many times in life that we find ourselves having to learn to do things over and over again. Hip replacement means weeks of therapy, learning to walk, to bend, to function all over again. The recent economic downturn leads to a “reduction in force,” thereby causing someone to learn a new skill or job. A middle-aged father finds himself without a life mate for the first time in years, and has to learn to start dating again. Retirement leads a man to re-learn to prioritize and reschedule. A recent widow finds herself struggling with the balancing of checkbooks and paying the bills after her husband’s unexpected death. With each new stage in life comes a re-tooling, a re-learning, a re-training. It is like learning to walk all over again. Right.

Churches even go through cycles like this from time to time. Families move away from the community. New families come into the congregation. Babies are born. Children grow up. An adored Associate Pastor retires to care for his health. A beloved organist receives her eternal reward. People learn to adapt and step forward so that the gaps are filled. We don’t forget. We remember. Because that is what we were commanded to do by our Savior. And we are stronger and we are blessed. Left.

Ironically, we don’t learn these things alone. We are surrounded by a congregation of people who care. We are accompanied by a Holy Spirit that sustains, encourages and strengthens. We are blessed by a God who loves enough to remind us that we are not alone. Right.

It is a part of growing in Christ. It is a part of becoming what God has created us to be. It means moving into a realm that we might not cross into of our own accord. Still, we trust, that
we’ll be sustained and upheld by the power of the Holy Spirit as we respond to God’s promptings to move us forward in His name. Left.

“You’re doing fine,” he said. My knee hurt, but I could tell that I was going to be alright. I somehow knew that he wouldn’t let me fall. And, truth be told, he was right. I was going to be alright. I still have pain in my knee. But every time the wind changes, I am reminded by that pain that comes back that I did learn to walk all over again. If I could do it then, with the power of God, then I can do it again. And so can you, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Right.

See you in church!

Grace and peace,
Brad

Outstanding Loans and Feudin'...

My family has a strange heritage. On my father's side, we have the story of an un-paid debt owed by the Continental Congress dating back to the late 1770's, where Jacob DeHaven reported loaned George Washington and the Continental Army a fairly substantial amount of money to fund the growing war debt against the British during our Revolutionary War. While the story has lots of facets to it, and there is some question as to its absolute validity, it is one of the stories that adds color and flavor to our family's heritage and history.

Another facet to my family's name is that my father's mother was a bonafide McCoy - from the Hatfield-McCoy fame. Her grandfather was one of the elders involved in the feud, which purportedly had to do with a stolen pig, and a set of nuptuals involving a "youngun'" from both families. Again, legend oftentimes tends to be more colorful than fact, but as someone once said,
"when legend is more powerful than fact, print the legend."

No doubt, you and your family have similar stories - tales that when told give one a sense of identity, and meaning. Perhaps your family's stories are more colorful, or are more patriotic, or more grace-filled than mine. Perhaps they aren't. Regardless, they are your stories, and they share with the world a little about how life has shaped and formed you, how these have touched you in subtle and not-so-subtle ways.

I would also venture a guess that some of your stories involve those people who's lives have intersected with yours and critical junctures, and have influenced you in profound, spiritual ways. People with whom you have interacted, and in those interactions, you were changed, transformed, and because of that, you haven't been the same since. If you are reading this, chances are pretty good that you've had an interaction with someone who has taken the time to share the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ with you, and has given you the opportunity to make a decision for Christ. (If you are reading this, and that has not yet happened, I pray that it will soon!)

The stories that we have are who we are. They make up our lives, and fill us with meaning and purpose. They share with the world that we are who we are. I pray that you will somehow allow those special stories that have shaped your faith to be the ones that will be your defining stories.

In the meantime, keep practicing the faith! See you in Church!

Grace and peace,
Brad