Monthly Archives: March 2008

Not often I get emotional.  Surgery has pushed me.  There’s something there that makes your resources thin.  Not a bad thing.  Just the way it is.

Today, I had a good sleep.  My exercises all got done.  I’m sore but I can see things moving along.

So, I was surprised when I put on a CD (sorry, I haven’t got an MP3 player yet!!).  We have Avalon’s Faith, a hymn collection.  The final song is somewhat American (the final song is a tribute to men and women in American uniform).  The rest are fairly standard songs in contemporary yet traditional format.

A year ago I heard the song, "Total Praise".  It struck me then!  Good melody, great bass line (for a bassist, always important!), great lyrics. 

"You are the source of my strength, you are the strength of my life." 

Today I turned up the CD player, and listened (this is a paraphrase of Psalm 121).  After weeks of recovery, of ups and downs, I just needed to be reminded.  A struggling friend has changed a 55 year church affiliation, another has come  through a cancer scare, I’m sitting here with no "job" to distinguish me while I recover.

And I sobbed!!  Really sobbed, from an inner fountain.

Sometimes God puts us where we feel sideswiped.  And we get totally disoriented.  Jesus seems to have walked up behind us, put his hands over our eyes and said "trust me." 

Well, I guess I’d rather be in those hands than in my own! 

• Prayer:  Jesus, lift me up to what I cannot now see.  Show me your presence daily.  Plant my feet in your footsteps.

That’s where I am today!

It’s been a week since my last physio.  At home I’ve exercised, stretched and reached. 

This morning I shaved, showered and joined Jill as we headed over to the physio office.

My flexibility is increasing in my right leg.  My left leg has stayed much the same — some of that comes from a shooting pain in the right leg that we are still trying to work out.

I’m convinced that physio is designed to give hope, giving you one more opportunity to go to new heights of recovery.  For that reason, I’m more than willing to try something new each time.  Today there were stretches for my left leg.  Also, an approach to stepping down (I still find it difficult to walk down stairs).

Imagine trying these things, then heading home.  Phew!!

I slept a bit this afternoon and even at 4:00 I’m trying to clear my mind.  I think in all of this, that is what has surprised me most.  Emotions have been irregular, concentration has been short, and my usual intellectual acuity seems a step or two behind.  For that reason, I sometimes get discouraged, not with my physical progress, but with slowness putting things together and generally remaining "with it."  Thankfully, this is slowly coming back and I’m sure it is part of recovery.  Just unexpected!!

Moving ahead!  Yes — riding a scooter, not a sports car. 

Well, today a friend dropped off a different walker to try out.  The previous walker was helpful but a few inches too short.  I’ve been walking around, having fun with a seat that is slightly taller — so I can actually get up with little help from the arms on the walker.

Funny how experience often changes our "truth" quotient.

I knew walkers were helpful when recovering from surgery.  Now I know a walker can lessen stress on hurting knees, can provide a place of rest as you are seated, and can give a confidence for continued walking knowing you will have an "arm" to lean on.

Thanks to our friends who have provided walkers for us.

It’s pasts seven and the sun is still noticable.  Two months ago the sun did not shine — at this time of night. 

There is something encouraging about sun in the night.  As though the day could take over the darkness.  And all is well, light is life and things go on as God planned.

I’ve been reading, upon recommendation of a friend from Regina, a few pages of Larry Crabb’s 2003 book, "The Pressure’s Off".  An interesting thought, perhaps just semantics, but the idea that we can do all sorts of things right and yet miss God.  That scares me.

And so, now,with the sun set, I’m looking out the back window.  My wife and I are quietly relaxing.  And I’m saying to myself — "At this, the end of the day, may God been seen in both light and dark.  Help me to have eyes unfettered, and ears attuned."