Thursday, February 11, 2016

I don't want to be here...

February 11, 1993.  Didn't want that.  Didn't want to be there.  Didn't want to hear "we think you have  MS."  Didn't want to feel like lying on the floor and curling into a ball.  Didn't want to go back and have to tell people.

Where to go?  This isn't where I intended to be.  I... had it all...  Certainties disappeared.  How could I be any use now at all?

But I went on.  I stopped playing the flute.  I sang.  I didn't run on the cross country and track teams.  I double-majored.  I did a marathon.  I kept going.  It still was horrible, to be honest.  Yes, there are many worse things.  But it still was horrible.

In moving on, I realize now that back then, when I did not feel like doing something, that is exactly when I needed to do that something.  I didn't feel like meeting with the minister on campus but something drew me there.  We prayed.  I didn't want to do that.  It sounded corny...  praying. But then, in the middle of prayer, that was where I needed to be.  That was where I found relief.

My mom, little brother, and I went on a hike.  It was misting that day.  It was a long hike.  I don't think any of us thought we would make it to the top.   Yet as 2 of us might want to quit (and not be there any longer), there was always 1 who wanted to continue.  And so we made it.  Through all of that doubt, we made it.  And it was beautiful.

Many times when I haven't felt like going to church, but have gone anyway, I find that is where I should be.  I find a message or something small that leaves me thinking, this is where I need to be.  Yesterday was actually one of those times.  It was Ash Wednesday and I was so busy that I did not want to add _going_to_church_ to my list of things to do.  But I went.  And I found my break from a day that felt too busy and chaotic.  I found peace in the midst of a day of chaos.

The same is true for physical therapy (PT) and exercising on the treadmill.  I have been at this for almost 2 years.  Whenever I feel great, the treadmill never goes  well.  But when I don't feel like going, when I don't feel like I'm going to do well?  Those are my best days.  I never see them coming and sometimes even warn the therapist that this might not go very well. 

So I continue to look.  Where don't I feel like being, but yet something is calling me?  I generally go.  In all these years, 23 since my "probable MS" diagnosis and 26 since it began...  All those places I didn't want to go and things I didn't want to do?  That's where I needed to be.  I pushed running until I couldn't take a running step.  And you never know so no, I still have not given up and never will, that one day I will run again.  I still run in my dreams and am counting that!  I continued to walk without using something to help until I was at my car one day and couldn't move.  I didn't want to do use things like walking sticks but I did.  I didn't feel like running so many days but I did because time was limited.  Can you run?  Run for me.  Tell me about it.  I love hearing running stories.  It brings me back to it.

Today. February 11.  So much has happened in 23 years.  I keep improving especially on the days I just don't want to start.  Church is my sanctuary. God is all around us.  Pay attention.  God has been holding me for 26 years of this body not working quite right.  And so, though I don't want to be at this day again, here I am.  And I am moving forward.


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