So, I've been doing this temporary gig. Job. Thing. It's been both fun, and good for our bank balance (if you know what I mean). Some steady work for a few weeks, helping to pay off Big Blue, the new trike on the block.
First couple of weeks, it was the honeymoon. New routine, new stuff to learn, new new new. Getting up at 3:45am - new and exciting. Riding the trike up Leonard Street at 4:30am - new and VERY exciting. Getting the groove of running a shift live 6am to 10am - new, exciting and a little scary.
But now we're beyond the honeymoon. 3:45 snoozes its way into 4:15, the trike gets left because it's raining/too cold/too late 'cause I didn't get up on time; making an egg sandwich moves over to a dash through McBreakfastWorld, which is not the best choice for me; and because I'm getting used to the mechanics of the shift, I relax and don't sweat the details as much as I should. The bright shiny new starts to fade into the background, and instead of being different and wonderful, it all starts to look the same.
The mundane. Where everything gets reduced to sameness. Instead of seeing the small graces of God's hand, painting the bright colors of His presence all through each day, they get lost in the grey of "life." I lose my awareness of how He is so active, each day, each hour, each moment.
I said to Vicki, I feel directionless, pointless, and have no idea how I got that way. As always, time to get out the iPad and keyboard, get to writing, trot things out there to see the patterns, identify the truth and the lies, and refocus.
The only thing that's changed in the last few weeks is the addition of the temporary job. It's not going to be around all that long, but it is a litmus test of sorts to see how I respond to something like this in my new life and my new body. I haven't had a "regular" job since I was laid off in 2006, so Vicki and I have been interested to see how I would do with this.
First observation: I'm more than capable of holding down a job, physically. I've stepped up to the demands of this gig, including the very early schedule, and done well with it.
(In fact, once it ends I'll probably stay on a morning schedule - I seem to do well being up early and going to bed early. I'll probably sleep in until, say, 5am, but I'll stay on this side of the day.)
Second observation: I'm a much nicer employee and person now than I ever was when I was working full-time. No surprise there - when you become Tabula Rasa, everything changes. A lot of old crap got left behind with the pounds and, while some of it tries to climb back aboard, the Lord provides the strength to toss it off when it tries to grab on.
OK - so if everything seems to be groovy, what's up with feeling directionless? The only thing that I can make of it is that as things become routine, the mundane clouds my eyes, blinds my senses and blends everything together. It's like a wagon that's traveled the same path over and over. The ruts in the road are worn so deep that the wagon couldn't turn to a new direction if it wanted to. Just the same deep grooves, over and over.
So? That's life, isn't it? Go to work. Come home. Earn daily bread. Keep your head down, nose to the grindstone, hiney to the... something. No one gets to just flit around, thinking, writing, dreaming, and observing. Who has time for that? Got to get out, make a living, keep going, provide for the family, GO GO GO GO GO GO GO!
Believe me - I get that. The guilt and angst I've wrestled with over the past years that I wasn't contributing anything to our family financially tore a hole in my heart that I'm still filling in. (ok - the Father is doing the filling - I'm just holding the shovel.) Having to rely on Vicki's paycheck alone, while feeling that I'm just sitting around, spending resources and bringing in none? That tears me up. And still would, had God not intervened and whispered to me,
"My chains are gone, I've been set free..."
So, here's the refocus... I'm never allowed to just wander through a day, never looking around, never really seeing. When God has brought such grace into your life, remaking you from the inside out, you can never just wander through a day and ignore all He is doing.
Well, you "can," but you shouldn't. I shouldn't. I can't.
Lemme 'splain. I don't mean to sound churchy, hyper-spiritual, judgmental, preachy, condescending, holier than Swiss cheese, or anything else along those lines. But God has made it so clear what He has done for me and why. I've been given this gift for a purpose - not out of obligation, like He expects me to pay Him back for it, but He has remade me in every way for a reason...
My direction, my point, my purpose is to be a signpost. I point to myself and I point to Him. I say to any and all, "Look! Look what God alone has done. Look at what He can do in one life, for someone who does NOT deserve His grace, who has NOT earned His favor, and who is NOT worthy of His attention. See how He still is in the miracle business, as He has always been. Look at me, not as an example (good heavens NO!) but as a recipient of unmerited, unrestrained overflowing grace from the hand of our Father."
"Now look in the mirror, and see someone who is a recipient of that same grace. I am no different than anyone else - God loves all of His children without reservation. And His hand moves in all of our lives every day, every hour, every moment. Look around and see Him weaving and molding things together - His hand on all things at all times, nothing out of His grasp or falling out of His notice."
"God moves. Right now, right here."
Father, thank You for showing me what I was missing. Thank You for the gift of a job, however long or short it lasts. Thanks that You already know what will come after it ends. And thank You for showing me that whatever I am doing, the routine of a daily gig or the endless variety of whatever You bring my way, I have to keep my eyes out of the ruts in the road, and up to You. I can't point to You when my eyes are down on the mundane in front of me. Lift my eyes to You.
"I lift my eyes to the hills. Where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth." (Psalm 121:1-2)
Up to the hills, away from the mundane, up to You, every day, every hour, every moment.
Random Fluffy Foto!
Writing in bed, and Beka editing by ear. Really. The ear typed some letters. Really.
Friday, May 06, 2011
Saturday, April 23, 2011
A conversation
This is a conversation that was rolling around in my head this morning. And yes, conversations do actually roll around in my head. Thus, when I say “that’s how I roll,” now you understand where that is coming from.
“Thank you Lord, for my new job...”
“Temporary.”
“What?”
“Your temporary new job.”
“Well, duh - yeah. I know that.”
By the way - I am not, nor am I usually in the habit of saying “duh” to the One who I usually have these conversations with. Really. Bad things happen when I do.
“Your temporary new job.”
“Yeah - that. I know that, you know that, so why make a fuss about it.”
“It’s important.”
“How so?”
“Have you forgotten some of the lessons we’ve been over? The roads we’ve traveled? If so, you’ve just lost your “roll your eyes at the forgetful Hebrew children” lifetime pass...”
*sigh*
“Shall we review, my son?”
*sigh*
“Let’s roll that beautiful bean footage, shall we?...”
January, 2005 - Working full-time at CU Radio, specifically at His Kids Radio. Coming up on 19 years there, pretty well finally finding my “calling” and settling in there.
“Ahem...”
“What?”
“Let’s switch to the real version, not the idealized, rosy glasses version.”
January 2005 - Although I was working full-time, thought I was settling and happy, nothing was ever “settled” about me. I weighed somewhere around 380, having come down from 480 through 2 medical fasts, but that new weight didn’t resolve some issues. I was still unsure, had poor self-image, and never felt that I fit anywhere. The exterior of the house was improved, but the interior filled with rot and despair. All my striving to be “normal,” to find balance and peace, to be at a place where I belonged was for nothing.
January 2006 - I was laid off, just short of 20 years there. Slight insanity follows for about 4 months, and lingers for years after. Vicki is married to someone who shoots up to 480 lbs, wanders through life lost, emotionally wrecked, filled with all the self-loathing and doubt that comes with this kind of path.
January 2009 - through the kindness and care of Weigh To Wellness, about 50 pounds come off. In the meantime, God reveals some of the purpose of the wrecking ball...
“Remember, son, what I told you? That I wanted to rebuild you - make you new. But I would not start until the foundation was clear. I would not restore you building on the rubble of the past. It had to be bare, new, clean and ready for the work I wished to do. Everything had to go.”
“Why? Was it all that bad? Was it all awful, without value? Was there no good part of me?”
“You know better than that, son.”
“You’re right. I do.”
January 2010 - The path comes into view, where the final walls will fall. Obedience. Place one foot on the path and watch the waters part in front of you.
March 30, 2010 - “My chains are gone, I’ve been set free...”
January 2011 - A month of writing and thinking. A time to allow the dust to settle, and to see just where we’ve come from and where we’ve arrived at.
February 2011 - At just the right time, a chain in my mind falls. Where was chaos is now clarity. The middle ground is granted, balance restored.
March 2011 - Opportunities for work, in limited quantities, to at least bring our noses above the waterline, financially. And to show me that I am capable of it.
April 2011 - The temporary job.
“Alright, so what did we learn?”
“My worth is not in what I do, but who I am in You... No “job” ever gets my heart - my heart belongs to You alone... I am Tabula Rasa, all things are new... I’ve been given so much grace, shown so much of how Your hand moves in every life, every day in huge ways, that it’s wrong to waste it in the mundane. Every day that I don’t reflect on, talk about, or point to Your grace is a day I’m not functioning as You intended.”
“So, want to try again?”
“Thank you for my temporary job. And thanks that when it ends, the path with You is just beginning.”
“Amen.”
“Thank you Lord, for my new job...”
“Temporary.”
“What?”
“Your temporary new job.”
“Well, duh - yeah. I know that.”
By the way - I am not, nor am I usually in the habit of saying “duh” to the One who I usually have these conversations with. Really. Bad things happen when I do.
“Your temporary new job.”
“Yeah - that. I know that, you know that, so why make a fuss about it.”
“It’s important.”
“How so?”
“Have you forgotten some of the lessons we’ve been over? The roads we’ve traveled? If so, you’ve just lost your “roll your eyes at the forgetful Hebrew children” lifetime pass...”
*sigh*
“Shall we review, my son?”
*sigh*
“Let’s roll that beautiful bean footage, shall we?...”
January, 2005 - Working full-time at CU Radio, specifically at His Kids Radio. Coming up on 19 years there, pretty well finally finding my “calling” and settling in there.
“Ahem...”
“What?”
“Let’s switch to the real version, not the idealized, rosy glasses version.”
January 2005 - Although I was working full-time, thought I was settling and happy, nothing was ever “settled” about me. I weighed somewhere around 380, having come down from 480 through 2 medical fasts, but that new weight didn’t resolve some issues. I was still unsure, had poor self-image, and never felt that I fit anywhere. The exterior of the house was improved, but the interior filled with rot and despair. All my striving to be “normal,” to find balance and peace, to be at a place where I belonged was for nothing.
January 2006 - I was laid off, just short of 20 years there. Slight insanity follows for about 4 months, and lingers for years after. Vicki is married to someone who shoots up to 480 lbs, wanders through life lost, emotionally wrecked, filled with all the self-loathing and doubt that comes with this kind of path.
January 2009 - through the kindness and care of Weigh To Wellness, about 50 pounds come off. In the meantime, God reveals some of the purpose of the wrecking ball...
“Remember, son, what I told you? That I wanted to rebuild you - make you new. But I would not start until the foundation was clear. I would not restore you building on the rubble of the past. It had to be bare, new, clean and ready for the work I wished to do. Everything had to go.”
“Why? Was it all that bad? Was it all awful, without value? Was there no good part of me?”
“You know better than that, son.”
“You’re right. I do.”
January 2010 - The path comes into view, where the final walls will fall. Obedience. Place one foot on the path and watch the waters part in front of you.
March 30, 2010 - “My chains are gone, I’ve been set free...”
January 2011 - A month of writing and thinking. A time to allow the dust to settle, and to see just where we’ve come from and where we’ve arrived at.
February 2011 - At just the right time, a chain in my mind falls. Where was chaos is now clarity. The middle ground is granted, balance restored.
March 2011 - Opportunities for work, in limited quantities, to at least bring our noses above the waterline, financially. And to show me that I am capable of it.
April 2011 - The temporary job.
“Alright, so what did we learn?”
“My worth is not in what I do, but who I am in You... No “job” ever gets my heart - my heart belongs to You alone... I am Tabula Rasa, all things are new... I’ve been given so much grace, shown so much of how Your hand moves in every life, every day in huge ways, that it’s wrong to waste it in the mundane. Every day that I don’t reflect on, talk about, or point to Your grace is a day I’m not functioning as You intended.”
“So, want to try again?”
“Thank you for my temporary job. And thanks that when it ends, the path with You is just beginning.”
“Amen.”
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Dear Chicky...
Dear Chicken,
My. That seems so cold and formal... do you mind if I call you Chicky? No? Thanks much...
Dear Chicky,
You are gone, dispatched, shipped, cooked, packaged and now removed from my fridge for the final indignity - deboned. I truly hope that your brief life was pleasant, and that your departure from this world was humane and kind, but since I didn't know you then or have any control of that, let's move on...
As I... um... remove your non-tasty bits and place your um... tasty bits into a storage bag, I wanted to express my appreciation. I'm a post-surgical patient who depends on creatures like you and some of your feathered relatives to supply me with lots and lots of protein, so without your contribution to my life, I'd soon become malnourished, my hair would fall out, and I'd wind up taking a vacation at St. Mary's. You help prevent that, and I thank you.
In addition, I'm one of those poor souls who gags every time I try to eat Tofu, certain beans no longer work with my new physiology, and one can only swallow so many protein shakes. So again, the place you have in my day-to-day existence is important, and once again I say thanks.
The Creator who made us both and decided where our place would be on the... um... well, let's just say it, the food chain, He chose your particular rung, and He chose mine. And although at first glance that would appear to place me on a 'higher' rung than you, the truth is that with a higher rung comes more responsibility. He reminds me to be mindful, to be caring and compassionate, to be a good steward of His creation, and above all to be thankful.
So, rest assured that the portion of your existence that has come into my home will be treated with respect. The parts that are useful will be used to benefit myself, my wife, and, should some scraps fall to the floor, our dog. The non-useful parts (which is another discussion entirely) will be disposed of with proper care and dignity. (Although what happens to them after they make their way to the big blue plastic thingie is out of my control - sorry...)
Your useful parts will find their way into a number of wonderful places, such as the Ramen noodles I am presently enjoying. Indeed, they have added some wonderful flavor and texture to the noodles, for which some grain gave up its existence, as well as the most mysterious substance in our world, the bright yellow powder in the silver packet. (Oh so tasty, but I really don't want to know what that stuff is...) In a few hours, more of your tasty parts will join some Roma tomatoes and flatbread to make a lovely sandwich, anointed with that other mysterious substance, Miracle Whip, that I love so very much.
I guess the point of these random thoughts while engaged in removing the non-tasty bits from the tasty bits is this: to be mindful of God's good gifts, from the creatures, to the grain, to the mysterious substances, as He again provides what we need for this day. So, with a grateful heart and a full tummy, I thank Him. And you.
*belch*
Sorry you had to hear that. It must have been the noodles - certainly not you. Really. No, really.
*burp*
Alright - that was the dog. You can't pin that one on me. Nope. See? She's licking her chops. Sure sign of... um... something. Yeah.
Until we meet again, in a couple of hours, I remain,
Your friend, ever so briefly,
Cal
My. That seems so cold and formal... do you mind if I call you Chicky? No? Thanks much...
Dear Chicky,
You are gone, dispatched, shipped, cooked, packaged and now removed from my fridge for the final indignity - deboned. I truly hope that your brief life was pleasant, and that your departure from this world was humane and kind, but since I didn't know you then or have any control of that, let's move on...
As I... um... remove your non-tasty bits and place your um... tasty bits into a storage bag, I wanted to express my appreciation. I'm a post-surgical patient who depends on creatures like you and some of your feathered relatives to supply me with lots and lots of protein, so without your contribution to my life, I'd soon become malnourished, my hair would fall out, and I'd wind up taking a vacation at St. Mary's. You help prevent that, and I thank you.
In addition, I'm one of those poor souls who gags every time I try to eat Tofu, certain beans no longer work with my new physiology, and one can only swallow so many protein shakes. So again, the place you have in my day-to-day existence is important, and once again I say thanks.
The Creator who made us both and decided where our place would be on the... um... well, let's just say it, the food chain, He chose your particular rung, and He chose mine. And although at first glance that would appear to place me on a 'higher' rung than you, the truth is that with a higher rung comes more responsibility. He reminds me to be mindful, to be caring and compassionate, to be a good steward of His creation, and above all to be thankful.
So, rest assured that the portion of your existence that has come into my home will be treated with respect. The parts that are useful will be used to benefit myself, my wife, and, should some scraps fall to the floor, our dog. The non-useful parts (which is another discussion entirely) will be disposed of with proper care and dignity. (Although what happens to them after they make their way to the big blue plastic thingie is out of my control - sorry...)
Your useful parts will find their way into a number of wonderful places, such as the Ramen noodles I am presently enjoying. Indeed, they have added some wonderful flavor and texture to the noodles, for which some grain gave up its existence, as well as the most mysterious substance in our world, the bright yellow powder in the silver packet. (Oh so tasty, but I really don't want to know what that stuff is...) In a few hours, more of your tasty parts will join some Roma tomatoes and flatbread to make a lovely sandwich, anointed with that other mysterious substance, Miracle Whip, that I love so very much.
I guess the point of these random thoughts while engaged in removing the non-tasty bits from the tasty bits is this: to be mindful of God's good gifts, from the creatures, to the grain, to the mysterious substances, as He again provides what we need for this day. So, with a grateful heart and a full tummy, I thank Him. And you.
*belch*
Sorry you had to hear that. It must have been the noodles - certainly not you. Really. No, really.
*burp*
Alright - that was the dog. You can't pin that one on me. Nope. See? She's licking her chops. Sure sign of... um... something. Yeah.
Until we meet again, in a couple of hours, I remain,
Your friend, ever so briefly,
Cal
Thursday, April 14, 2011
I Have A Dream
I have a dream...
Now, it's nowhere near as lofty or inspiring as the most famous uttering of that phrase... Not even close, just to be clear.
And it's not a dream I would have uttered a year ago, even if it was deep within my unspoken hopes, desires, or dim aspirations.
But it's a dream. 'Lemmie 'splain...
My favorite blogger of all time, all dimensions, all alternate universes, world with out end, alleluia, amen, is P-Dub. The Pioneer Woman. Ree Drummond. She whose encrusted boots I am not worthy to clean off. She writes with the quirky kind of humor I wish I had, is an amazing photographer, actually knows how to use Photoshop to produce beautiful results, is a fabulous cook (she beat Bobby Flay in a throwdown, for corn's sake), and has a Bassett hound named Charlie who is my hero.
That last shows that I have many, many issues.
If you've never experienced the joy and mayhem that is the Pioneer Woman, surf off this very instant and find her. And if you never return, it's ok - I totally understand. Godspeed and much laughter, my friend.
Oh, the dream? Sorry - got lost in the awesomeness.
P-Dub lives on a ranch. And on this ranch is a place called The Lodge, which is a place for gathering and guests and is amazing.
So here's my dream: I get an email from her people, since getting an email from her herself would pretty much render me into a babbling pile of goo.
Which isn't that much of a change, I'll grant you. But even more so. Yeah, that bad.
Anyway, her peeps say, "Cal, we happened to hear this obscure little song from an obscure little album called 'Angelica's Waltz,' and we were surprised and shocked to find that we actually liked it, and were thinking that this sort of thing would be perfect background for a gathering we have coming up at The Lodge."
At this point, I'd be expecting the next words to be, "so we were wondering if we could play your CD at the event. Oh, and could you send us a few dozen copies to give as party favors." After all, if you turn them over, they make a great mirror. Or they work well for target practice, so who would't like a practical gift like that?
My response would be, "uhbabblegarblegookumbeeblewokawokawoka... Sure. Great. Would you like fries with that?"
But no. In my dream, the next words are, "so we were wondering if you'd be available to come to The Lodge and play at this event."
See the aforementioned reference to "goo" for my reaction.
And even if the next words were, "of course, you'll need to provide your own transportation to Oklahoma for you and your stuff, cover all your meals and other needs while you're here, and pay us a hefty fee for the privilege of playing at The Lodge. But we will graciously provide accommodation for you - a pup tent in the back with actual pups for your edification," my response would be, "ebblebeebleglorkgulpwokawokathud... Uh huh, sure, yes."
I want to play at The Lodge. Not be a guest, not take advantage of the hospitality, not intrude in any way - just to use my feeble offerings of music to enhance a gathering for someone who has enriched my life by her writing.
Now, P-Dub has no knowledge that I even exist, much less that I play whistles and thingies. I'm not on her radar in any shape or form. I don't drift in her circles, exist in her world, or anything like that. It's not that she's snooty or inaccessible - she'd laugh at the thought of it. Just that our worlds don't connect.
So what's the point? One year and 175 pounds ago, such a dream would have filled me with depression and hopelessness, something that would have caused longing and self-loathing, reminding me just how impossible the thought was and how very sick and lost I was.
But now? I could see this happening. No, I'm not having delusions of grandeur, or becoming a creepy blogger stalker. In my new life and my new body, I could imagine that if an opportunity like this came up, I'd have the strength, the confidence, and most of all the grateful heart to accept it, do it, and give God the glory for it.
And that, dear friends, is a dream with a happy ending - not the unlikely chance of playing at the Lodge, but where I realize just how far we have come and how much grace has been given, and how truly thankful I am.
I have a dream, and it's a good one...
Now, it's nowhere near as lofty or inspiring as the most famous uttering of that phrase... Not even close, just to be clear.
And it's not a dream I would have uttered a year ago, even if it was deep within my unspoken hopes, desires, or dim aspirations.
But it's a dream. 'Lemmie 'splain...
My favorite blogger of all time, all dimensions, all alternate universes, world with out end, alleluia, amen, is P-Dub. The Pioneer Woman. Ree Drummond. She whose encrusted boots I am not worthy to clean off. She writes with the quirky kind of humor I wish I had, is an amazing photographer, actually knows how to use Photoshop to produce beautiful results, is a fabulous cook (she beat Bobby Flay in a throwdown, for corn's sake), and has a Bassett hound named Charlie who is my hero.
That last shows that I have many, many issues.
If you've never experienced the joy and mayhem that is the Pioneer Woman, surf off this very instant and find her. And if you never return, it's ok - I totally understand. Godspeed and much laughter, my friend.
Oh, the dream? Sorry - got lost in the awesomeness.
P-Dub lives on a ranch. And on this ranch is a place called The Lodge, which is a place for gathering and guests and is amazing.
So here's my dream: I get an email from her people, since getting an email from her herself would pretty much render me into a babbling pile of goo.
Which isn't that much of a change, I'll grant you. But even more so. Yeah, that bad.
Anyway, her peeps say, "Cal, we happened to hear this obscure little song from an obscure little album called 'Angelica's Waltz,' and we were surprised and shocked to find that we actually liked it, and were thinking that this sort of thing would be perfect background for a gathering we have coming up at The Lodge."
At this point, I'd be expecting the next words to be, "so we were wondering if we could play your CD at the event. Oh, and could you send us a few dozen copies to give as party favors." After all, if you turn them over, they make a great mirror. Or they work well for target practice, so who would't like a practical gift like that?
My response would be, "uhbabblegarblegookumbeeblewokawokawoka... Sure. Great. Would you like fries with that?"
But no. In my dream, the next words are, "so we were wondering if you'd be available to come to The Lodge and play at this event."
See the aforementioned reference to "goo" for my reaction.
And even if the next words were, "of course, you'll need to provide your own transportation to Oklahoma for you and your stuff, cover all your meals and other needs while you're here, and pay us a hefty fee for the privilege of playing at The Lodge. But we will graciously provide accommodation for you - a pup tent in the back with actual pups for your edification," my response would be, "ebblebeebleglorkgulpwokawokathud... Uh huh, sure, yes."
I want to play at The Lodge. Not be a guest, not take advantage of the hospitality, not intrude in any way - just to use my feeble offerings of music to enhance a gathering for someone who has enriched my life by her writing.
Now, P-Dub has no knowledge that I even exist, much less that I play whistles and thingies. I'm not on her radar in any shape or form. I don't drift in her circles, exist in her world, or anything like that. It's not that she's snooty or inaccessible - she'd laugh at the thought of it. Just that our worlds don't connect.
So what's the point? One year and 175 pounds ago, such a dream would have filled me with depression and hopelessness, something that would have caused longing and self-loathing, reminding me just how impossible the thought was and how very sick and lost I was.
But now? I could see this happening. No, I'm not having delusions of grandeur, or becoming a creepy blogger stalker. In my new life and my new body, I could imagine that if an opportunity like this came up, I'd have the strength, the confidence, and most of all the grateful heart to accept it, do it, and give God the glory for it.
And that, dear friends, is a dream with a happy ending - not the unlikely chance of playing at the Lodge, but where I realize just how far we have come and how much grace has been given, and how truly thankful I am.
I have a dream, and it's a good one...
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
God's Timetable
Today, March 30th, is my one year anniversary. One year ago was my surgery, when I weighed 414 lbs. Today, a year later, I weigh 234. In thinking of that, and everything that has happened in this year, this was the result...
Wait upon the Lord.
Yeah, yeah, yeah - we all hear that. We say that. We tell others that.
And inwardly (sometimes outwardly, to be honest), we roll our eyes. "Yeah, right. Wait. Lovely. That'll help. Thanks."
(I'm pretty much talking directly to myself here - any resemblance to individual attitudes or situations is... well... you know.)
So, allow me to reflect on God's timetable, and how it's been implemented in my life this past year. After all, I only can see where I've been.
God's timetable can sometimes only be seen in reverse, by the way. At least, it seems that way to me. Going forward, seeing it in real time? We don't seem to be able to connect the dots in the middle of it all. But looking back? The pieces fit into the puzzle beautifully.
So, here's some of the journey. Look at this and tell me that it's a coincidence...
I've been through two medical fasts, regained the weight I lost, applied for surgery twice and been denied both times. I was laid off from a job I truly loved, at a place I'd been for almost 20 years, been adrift looking for purpose for a few years, and really felt broken, depressed and forgotten. This brought me to...
January 2009 - I started at Weigh to Wellness weighing 480 lbs. My doctor recommended them - I had no idea who they were. Through their amazing care and guidance, I went through a third medical fast and lost 50 lbs, down to 430. But then, without trying all that hard, I not only kept the 50 off, but lost another 10 lbs. This led to...
December 2009 - Dr Turke at WtW suggested that I reconsider surgery, pointing out that my body seems to settle at a new weight, rather than immediately trying to gain again.
For the record, if my body tends to settle at a new weight, how did I regain all the weight I lost? I was down to 366, and went back to 480. How did that happen? After the layoff, I went semi-quietly insane for a few months and the food addiction took center stage. Every addictive behavior surfaced, old habits took over, and there we went.
Dr. Turke also mentioned that the surgery is so much more than just a smaller stomach - the changes are deep and have an impact on many, many things. Oh, and the surgeon she's established a working relationship with just happens to be the surgeon I had talked to the first time I applied for surgery, Dr. Paul Kemmeter, who Vicki and I liked very much.
Dear ones, sometimes as we wait on the Lord, He is waiting for us. He lays the path in front of us and says, "Child, will you trust Me? Will you place one foot on this path? Will you say yes? You can't see beyond this point, but I can. Will you trust Me to not only guide you, but to prepare the path before you?" I consider, we pray, I say "yes."
So...
January 2010 - I apply for insurance coverage for bariatric surgery. We go through the various tests and screenings, get all the proper documents and stuff filed to the proper people, talk to Dr. Kemmeter and decide that the surgery he originally recommended is the one that we'll pursue. Then we settle in to wait...
In the meantime, God gives not only a sense of peace but anticipation. Instead of "the last resort," He begins to prepare me for the joyful journey to come, to see this not as the end but the beginning.
Middle of March 2010 - Approval can take up to eight weeks but we hear back after two. "We're calling to schedule Cal's surgery." "Oh - the approval came through?" "Yes, it did." "Great - so when is the surgery?" "In two weeks."
Gulp.
Like that, we began the countdown to surgery. God had laid the groundwork so that when the call came, everything was already in place.
March 30, 2010 - Surgery day, and I'm down to 414 lbs, having been focusing on my eating for the previous two weeks. All goes exactly as we had been praying, the procedure completed, everything was fine. When I awake from sleep, God speaks these words into me:
My chains are gone, I've been set free...
April 2010 - My surgery was on Tuesday. The following Sunday, Easter, I was at church, rejoicing with my brothers and sisters. In a wheelchair, moving slowly, taking in nothing but liquids, and smiling the whole time. I get up and walk every three or four hours. No more diabetic meds since the hospital, and the pain meds are taking away the arthritis pain as well. Walking is good - very good.
Six weeks later, we ask what we should be doing for arthritis pain, since I'd been using the meds from the hospital. Dr. Kemmeter replies, "take your arthritis meds - that's why we did this particular procedure."
I take my pill. And for the first time, the medicine takes care of the pain. Doesn't just mute it or dull it, but knocks it out. My chains are gone...
Pain-free legs lead us to...
May 2010 - TerraTrike releases a new model, the Rover, their first trike with a weight capacity over 300 lbs - this one handles 400 lbs. I rode the prototype, grinned my face off, and Vicki says OK to a pre-order. That gives me time to get under the 400 lb weight limit, although I'm already slightly under it.
June 2010 - We had heard of delays in Rover deliveries and expected that mine would arrive in late July. Then we get the call mid-month, "Cal's Rover is here!"
Yee haw! Rover arrives just in time to become my main replacement for overeating. Being out on the trike helps my body, clears my mind, and heals my spirit. In fact, as I wrote this on Tuesday, 3/29/11, I've already ridden three miles to work (at 4:45 this morning, in 20 degree temps), two miles to the coffee shop where I'm sipping and writing, and I'll ride two more back to work and another three home. Yeah, I'm a trike rider.
Also this month, I used the wheelchair for the last time at Festival 2010. It came home, went in the basement shortly thereafter, and there it sits.
The weight continues to drop...
July 2010 - I've realized how important writing is and how I need to be journaling a lot. It helps me clear the chaos and also raise the stones to help me remember just how far God has brought me. When darkness and confusion threaten, the stones remind me that God is there, He has been faithful, and He WILL be faithful.
August 2010 - We're having the best summer ever - riding, moving, breathing, living. I'm getting a little restless, and feeling a little guilty that I don't bring any income in to help keep us afloat. Vicki points out that learning my new life IS my job - other things will follow when it's time. In the meantime, God provides, keeping our noses just above water. My chains continue to fall - diabetes, cholesterol, arthritis pain - God is rebuilding me.
September 2010 - Fall riding is amazing!!
November 2010 - sleep studies, to check the level of my CPAP machine. I've been taking off the mask or sleeping without it, and although I know I shouldn't do that, sometimes I just roll over and don't feel like putting the mask on.
The results?
Episode rate (how many times per hour I stop breathing): Originally 106, now down to 30.
Pressure level: Originally 14, now down to 7.
(the machine starts at 5, btw...)
Significant change, eh wot? Then these words...
"Now that is when you sleep on your back. The next line is when you sleep on your side."
Episode rate: Zero.
"We train you to sleep on your side, you don't need the CPAP."
If you heard a loud CLUNK during the month of November last year, it was my jaw hitting the floor. Never, in my wildest dreams or imagination, did I ever think I'd no longer need the CPAP.
December 2010 - We take our first long trip away since surgery, to Missouri for Christmas. Firsts for that trip:
No CPAP, special pillows, or air bed to keep me in an elevated position.
Only gear needed for sleeping: one queen air mattress, basic pillows. Vicki and I shared a mattress for the first time in many, many years. On the floor, no elevated bed, and I got up and down under my own power.
No wheelchair. Did some walking and shopping in Branson, all on my own two feet.
No worry about breaking a chair, fitting in the shower or breaking a toilet seat in someone's house. (These are all common concerns of the obese... And yes, they have all happened to me.)
January 2011 - Although the physical changes have been wonderful, the mental changes have been very challenging, overwhelming at times. I take a month off from everything - playing, worship team, etc. to just sit, think, and write. To get off the roller coaster and let the dust settle.
And God shows me the path I've walked - the one that He prepared for me to walk. He shows me some of the reasons for all the grace He has showered on me. He reconnects me to worship, softening a heart that had grown closed and cold. He heals and restores my mind, giving some clarity in the chaos. Just at the right time, I take my first Tai Chi class, beginning to develop balance and strength in my new body.
I run errands. I shop for groceries. I do things that Vicki would have to do on top of her full-time work. She comes home and doesn't dread asking me, "so how was your day?" The answer now is (usually), "great! I did this, took care of that, etc. etc. etc..." She sometimes has trouble keeping up with me.
That makes me smile.
February 2011 - After a month of thinking and healing, God prepares the next piece of the puzzle, putting things in place to bring about some emotional and mental stability, just at the time when I'd be able to accept it for another good gift.
I sat on a panel with Dr. Kemmeter and Cathy, the surgical coordinator discussing treatment of obese patients. Me? Having enough confidence to do that? All by myself without Vicki driving me there and holding my hand all the way? Impossible.
But, I did it.
March 2011 - With these things in place, He begins to add things to my life - work with Sozo Media Group, playing at WCSG's Father-Daughter banquet and actually standing up to play, being able to get things done at home and do things FOR Vicki, instead of her having to wait on me.
And, most recently, my Rover has been sold to a dear friend, to encourage him in his journey. I have a new trike, a TerraTrike Cruiser which I call Big Blue, sitting outside here. Big Blue is faster, lighter, and has a 300 pound weight capacity. I no longer need the capacity of the Rover, and am well under the weight limit of the Cruiser. In fact, I now fit on every trike that TerraTrike makes. Never thought that would happen.
All this, and now my one year anniversary. 414 pounds to 234 in one year. Both physically AND mentally, I'm in a totally new and wonderful place.
Now, dear reader, tell me that this was just a string of lucky happenings. Tell me that it all fits together, just at the right time in the right order, as a happy accident.
I won't believe you, but feel free to tell me anyway.
We know that "God works all things together for good to those who love Him, and are called according to His purpose." (Romans 8:28, which can either be a great comfort, or a bat to hit someone over the head with.) Can you see that, when the working together is going on? Can you see it in real time? Maybe a glimpse or two, but to see all things working together? Not me. I can't see past my nose sometimes.
But knowing that this is true, that He IS working all things, present tense. To see where He has worked, to see the things He has drawn together at the perfect time, and in the perfect order, where some would see random chance. Then to see Him drawing them together right here, right now, it gives us the reminder that He is working, weaving all together in the right time, the right order, in the right places with the right people.
His work is nearly impossible to see in the moment, in the darkness, which is why we MUST remember, we must raise the stones and use those testimonies to God's work to keep our eyes fixed on Him when the circumstances and events keep us buried in shadows. We must tell each other what He IS doing, right here, right now.
Dear ones around us are struggling, wandering in dark places, staggering under crushing weight, and to hear the truth of how He moves, how He works, how He loves right here and right now? That can ease the burden, shift the weight, shine a light into the darkness, and relieve the pain, even just for a moment. To give hope in a hard place.
Wait on the Lord. We don't need to see His timetable - we just need to see Him. Wait on the Lord.
Wait upon the Lord.
Yeah, yeah, yeah - we all hear that. We say that. We tell others that.
And inwardly (sometimes outwardly, to be honest), we roll our eyes. "Yeah, right. Wait. Lovely. That'll help. Thanks."
(I'm pretty much talking directly to myself here - any resemblance to individual attitudes or situations is... well... you know.)
So, allow me to reflect on God's timetable, and how it's been implemented in my life this past year. After all, I only can see where I've been.
God's timetable can sometimes only be seen in reverse, by the way. At least, it seems that way to me. Going forward, seeing it in real time? We don't seem to be able to connect the dots in the middle of it all. But looking back? The pieces fit into the puzzle beautifully.
So, here's some of the journey. Look at this and tell me that it's a coincidence...
I've been through two medical fasts, regained the weight I lost, applied for surgery twice and been denied both times. I was laid off from a job I truly loved, at a place I'd been for almost 20 years, been adrift looking for purpose for a few years, and really felt broken, depressed and forgotten. This brought me to...
January 2009 - I started at Weigh to Wellness weighing 480 lbs. My doctor recommended them - I had no idea who they were. Through their amazing care and guidance, I went through a third medical fast and lost 50 lbs, down to 430. But then, without trying all that hard, I not only kept the 50 off, but lost another 10 lbs. This led to...
December 2009 - Dr Turke at WtW suggested that I reconsider surgery, pointing out that my body seems to settle at a new weight, rather than immediately trying to gain again.
For the record, if my body tends to settle at a new weight, how did I regain all the weight I lost? I was down to 366, and went back to 480. How did that happen? After the layoff, I went semi-quietly insane for a few months and the food addiction took center stage. Every addictive behavior surfaced, old habits took over, and there we went.
Dr. Turke also mentioned that the surgery is so much more than just a smaller stomach - the changes are deep and have an impact on many, many things. Oh, and the surgeon she's established a working relationship with just happens to be the surgeon I had talked to the first time I applied for surgery, Dr. Paul Kemmeter, who Vicki and I liked very much.
Dear ones, sometimes as we wait on the Lord, He is waiting for us. He lays the path in front of us and says, "Child, will you trust Me? Will you place one foot on this path? Will you say yes? You can't see beyond this point, but I can. Will you trust Me to not only guide you, but to prepare the path before you?" I consider, we pray, I say "yes."
So...
January 2010 - I apply for insurance coverage for bariatric surgery. We go through the various tests and screenings, get all the proper documents and stuff filed to the proper people, talk to Dr. Kemmeter and decide that the surgery he originally recommended is the one that we'll pursue. Then we settle in to wait...
In the meantime, God gives not only a sense of peace but anticipation. Instead of "the last resort," He begins to prepare me for the joyful journey to come, to see this not as the end but the beginning.
Middle of March 2010 - Approval can take up to eight weeks but we hear back after two. "We're calling to schedule Cal's surgery." "Oh - the approval came through?" "Yes, it did." "Great - so when is the surgery?" "In two weeks."
Gulp.
Like that, we began the countdown to surgery. God had laid the groundwork so that when the call came, everything was already in place.
March 30, 2010 - Surgery day, and I'm down to 414 lbs, having been focusing on my eating for the previous two weeks. All goes exactly as we had been praying, the procedure completed, everything was fine. When I awake from sleep, God speaks these words into me:
My chains are gone, I've been set free...
April 2010 - My surgery was on Tuesday. The following Sunday, Easter, I was at church, rejoicing with my brothers and sisters. In a wheelchair, moving slowly, taking in nothing but liquids, and smiling the whole time. I get up and walk every three or four hours. No more diabetic meds since the hospital, and the pain meds are taking away the arthritis pain as well. Walking is good - very good.
Six weeks later, we ask what we should be doing for arthritis pain, since I'd been using the meds from the hospital. Dr. Kemmeter replies, "take your arthritis meds - that's why we did this particular procedure."
I take my pill. And for the first time, the medicine takes care of the pain. Doesn't just mute it or dull it, but knocks it out. My chains are gone...
Pain-free legs lead us to...
May 2010 - TerraTrike releases a new model, the Rover, their first trike with a weight capacity over 300 lbs - this one handles 400 lbs. I rode the prototype, grinned my face off, and Vicki says OK to a pre-order. That gives me time to get under the 400 lb weight limit, although I'm already slightly under it.
June 2010 - We had heard of delays in Rover deliveries and expected that mine would arrive in late July. Then we get the call mid-month, "Cal's Rover is here!"
Yee haw! Rover arrives just in time to become my main replacement for overeating. Being out on the trike helps my body, clears my mind, and heals my spirit. In fact, as I wrote this on Tuesday, 3/29/11, I've already ridden three miles to work (at 4:45 this morning, in 20 degree temps), two miles to the coffee shop where I'm sipping and writing, and I'll ride two more back to work and another three home. Yeah, I'm a trike rider.
Also this month, I used the wheelchair for the last time at Festival 2010. It came home, went in the basement shortly thereafter, and there it sits.
The weight continues to drop...
July 2010 - I've realized how important writing is and how I need to be journaling a lot. It helps me clear the chaos and also raise the stones to help me remember just how far God has brought me. When darkness and confusion threaten, the stones remind me that God is there, He has been faithful, and He WILL be faithful.
August 2010 - We're having the best summer ever - riding, moving, breathing, living. I'm getting a little restless, and feeling a little guilty that I don't bring any income in to help keep us afloat. Vicki points out that learning my new life IS my job - other things will follow when it's time. In the meantime, God provides, keeping our noses just above water. My chains continue to fall - diabetes, cholesterol, arthritis pain - God is rebuilding me.
September 2010 - Fall riding is amazing!!
November 2010 - sleep studies, to check the level of my CPAP machine. I've been taking off the mask or sleeping without it, and although I know I shouldn't do that, sometimes I just roll over and don't feel like putting the mask on.
The results?
Episode rate (how many times per hour I stop breathing): Originally 106, now down to 30.
Pressure level: Originally 14, now down to 7.
(the machine starts at 5, btw...)
Significant change, eh wot? Then these words...
"Now that is when you sleep on your back. The next line is when you sleep on your side."
Episode rate: Zero.
"We train you to sleep on your side, you don't need the CPAP."
If you heard a loud CLUNK during the month of November last year, it was my jaw hitting the floor. Never, in my wildest dreams or imagination, did I ever think I'd no longer need the CPAP.
December 2010 - We take our first long trip away since surgery, to Missouri for Christmas. Firsts for that trip:
No CPAP, special pillows, or air bed to keep me in an elevated position.
Only gear needed for sleeping: one queen air mattress, basic pillows. Vicki and I shared a mattress for the first time in many, many years. On the floor, no elevated bed, and I got up and down under my own power.
No wheelchair. Did some walking and shopping in Branson, all on my own two feet.
No worry about breaking a chair, fitting in the shower or breaking a toilet seat in someone's house. (These are all common concerns of the obese... And yes, they have all happened to me.)
January 2011 - Although the physical changes have been wonderful, the mental changes have been very challenging, overwhelming at times. I take a month off from everything - playing, worship team, etc. to just sit, think, and write. To get off the roller coaster and let the dust settle.
And God shows me the path I've walked - the one that He prepared for me to walk. He shows me some of the reasons for all the grace He has showered on me. He reconnects me to worship, softening a heart that had grown closed and cold. He heals and restores my mind, giving some clarity in the chaos. Just at the right time, I take my first Tai Chi class, beginning to develop balance and strength in my new body.
I run errands. I shop for groceries. I do things that Vicki would have to do on top of her full-time work. She comes home and doesn't dread asking me, "so how was your day?" The answer now is (usually), "great! I did this, took care of that, etc. etc. etc..." She sometimes has trouble keeping up with me.
That makes me smile.
February 2011 - After a month of thinking and healing, God prepares the next piece of the puzzle, putting things in place to bring about some emotional and mental stability, just at the time when I'd be able to accept it for another good gift.
I sat on a panel with Dr. Kemmeter and Cathy, the surgical coordinator discussing treatment of obese patients. Me? Having enough confidence to do that? All by myself without Vicki driving me there and holding my hand all the way? Impossible.
But, I did it.
March 2011 - With these things in place, He begins to add things to my life - work with Sozo Media Group, playing at WCSG's Father-Daughter banquet and actually standing up to play, being able to get things done at home and do things FOR Vicki, instead of her having to wait on me.
And, most recently, my Rover has been sold to a dear friend, to encourage him in his journey. I have a new trike, a TerraTrike Cruiser which I call Big Blue, sitting outside here. Big Blue is faster, lighter, and has a 300 pound weight capacity. I no longer need the capacity of the Rover, and am well under the weight limit of the Cruiser. In fact, I now fit on every trike that TerraTrike makes. Never thought that would happen.
All this, and now my one year anniversary. 414 pounds to 234 in one year. Both physically AND mentally, I'm in a totally new and wonderful place.
Now, dear reader, tell me that this was just a string of lucky happenings. Tell me that it all fits together, just at the right time in the right order, as a happy accident.
I won't believe you, but feel free to tell me anyway.
We know that "God works all things together for good to those who love Him, and are called according to His purpose." (Romans 8:28, which can either be a great comfort, or a bat to hit someone over the head with.) Can you see that, when the working together is going on? Can you see it in real time? Maybe a glimpse or two, but to see all things working together? Not me. I can't see past my nose sometimes.
But knowing that this is true, that He IS working all things, present tense. To see where He has worked, to see the things He has drawn together at the perfect time, and in the perfect order, where some would see random chance. Then to see Him drawing them together right here, right now, it gives us the reminder that He is working, weaving all together in the right time, the right order, in the right places with the right people.
His work is nearly impossible to see in the moment, in the darkness, which is why we MUST remember, we must raise the stones and use those testimonies to God's work to keep our eyes fixed on Him when the circumstances and events keep us buried in shadows. We must tell each other what He IS doing, right here, right now.
Dear ones around us are struggling, wandering in dark places, staggering under crushing weight, and to hear the truth of how He moves, how He works, how He loves right here and right now? That can ease the burden, shift the weight, shine a light into the darkness, and relieve the pain, even just for a moment. To give hope in a hard place.
Wait on the Lord. We don't need to see His timetable - we just need to see Him. Wait on the Lord.
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