Surprisingly busy. But very thankful.

Time to get back to due diligence on my list of "thankfuls."

89.  Melted snow, by the end of March!
90.  Fresh snow, at the beginning of April.
91.  Soil, peat pots and seeds, doing their thing on my sunny windowsill.
92.  Dreaming of green grass, delphiniums, sweet peas and stocks in July.
93.  Tulips and daffodils in my garden, already!
94.  A tree full of robins and chickadees.
95.  Watching April make plans for living in an apartment next year.  Such sweet grief, to see one's daughter grow into independence.
96.  Taking a call from April today - she needed to know how full to inflate her car tires.
97.  Back to the gym next week!
98.  Easter coloured M&Ms.
99.  SALTS - Benton is planning an amazing summer!  (google it if you are curious!)
100.  Apple TV.  Yep.  It's a good thing.
101.  A friend who planned her morning around my physio needs.
102.  Fresh flowers from another friend.
103.  Time for daily hours in study and the Word.
104.  Automatic laundry machines.
105.  A friend who gave up her morning to sew me some stretchy pants that aren't black!
106.  90 degrees of bend.
107.  Canada's health care system.  (This may tick off some of my American friends, but I've gotta be honest!  Our system has given me a new chance at walking that I would never have been able to afford in the States, even as a two income family.)
108.  Yeast.  (We made bread today - yeast is an amazing thing!)
109.  Fresh bread.  See #108.
110.  Good Friday.  The pivotal day of the calendar for me.  Fresh beginnings, new chances.
111.  My purple KitchenAid mixer.  The perfect mix (ha) of sensible and frivolous.
112.  The satisfaction of being able to do some work and serve my family again.
113.  A quick note from a friend in California, complete with some photos of Benton at age 8.  Gracious.
Speaking of Benton - and excellent medical care:
114. Quick service at the ER:  xrays, consult, and back out the door in under 2 hours.
115.  AND.... his collarbone is NOT broken.  (Phew!  Because if it had been, #99 would have been off the table!)
116.  Benton is on Spring break, so he's around a lot.  I do like that boy.

So very, very much to be thankful for.  Open your eyes.  See what is being said to you over and over... "I am here.  I love you."



 

A bloggable day.

I’m now two weeks post-op. Today, Steve took the day off so that he could take me out to Banff to check in with my Surgeon. Taking me anywhere is a major undertaking, involving boxes, pillows, and blankets.  (See the picture, complete with Skittles who did NOT get to come along) Since my leg doesn’t currently bend, we have to rig a comfortable seat for me in the back of the van. I feel like royalty, riding in cushiony comfort in the back while my staff rides up front.


I was thrilled to get the go ahead to begin putting a little weight on my right leg, and just about as happy to be allowed a slight, 15 degree bend in that leg as well. 15 degrees doesn’t sound like much, but I’ve gotta tell you – it feels like such freedom!

I was reminded again about how amazing it is that I was even able to have this second surgery. Let me walk you through (see what I did there?) the story.

When my first knee surgeon, here in Calgary, discovered that my knee had not healed properly from the original injury and surgery, he was very discouraging about my chances of any further improvement. It “just happens” that the condition I’d ended up with happens to about 4% of patients, and he was not willing to try another repair, as the risk of complications was just too high.

It “just happens” that our next door neighbour is a physiotherapist, who “just happened” to have worked a bit with a surgeon in Banff, about an hour away from us. She thought that the soft tissue malformations in my knee would be just the sort of thing that would interest Dr. Hiemstra, this surgeon in Banff.

Dr. Hiemstra normally only sees patients that are athletes, or have been referred from Sports Medicine physicians. So, yeah, um, I’m not really in that demographic. My one major athletic feat was a single, freak home run in grade 7 or 8, other than that I’m always the last one picked for any team. I was referred to Dr. H by my family physician (not a Sports Med doctor) that sent off my letter and history “just in case”. I got a call back almost right away saying that Dr. Hiemstra was very interested in my knee and that she wanted to see me right away.

Turns out that Dr. H. is really interested in JUST the type of weird, uncommon problem that my patella was presenting with. And she was quite confident that she could fix me right up. Even though I’m not an athlete, I just have an interesting patella. (Aw, shucks..) Isn’t that cool that it “just happens” that she is so interested?



It gets better.



Fast forward a couple of months to a convention in the states, where my Dr. H was presenting a paper and “just happened” to sit beside a American colleague at lunch... who “just happened” to talk about a cool new procedure. One that he’s developed to fix just the sort of weird problem that I “just happen” to have. My doctor thought of me right away. (Aw, shucks!)

Perhaps it’s a good thing that I didn’t know BEFORE the surgery that she’s never done that particular procedure before – and as far as Steve and I can figure, it’s probably the first time that this procedure has been done in our neck of the woods. It DOES explain why so was so excited to do my surgery, and why she thanked me (I was pretty groggy, still on the bed in recovery) so enthusiastically for bringing her such a “cool” knee.

~~~~~~~~~~~

There were sure a lot of things that “just happened” but I know better. As it happens – I am pretty happy about the state of my weird knee today. God is so comprehensive in His attention to detail – and so good. I see Him at work in everything to do with this. Of course, I do wish I hadn’t just happened to step on that little pebble in June 2010, but then I wouldn’t have learned so much.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Next steps: physio starts next week, where I will begin work on rebuilding the strength in my knee, and begin working on the range of motion. In 4 weeks, we will be allowed to increase the bend in my brace - ever so gradually. In about 4 weeks, I’ll graduate to a cane from the crutches. In about 9 weeks, I can probably go back to work.  It's going to be a long 9 weeks, but so very worth it.

I've go so many things to be thankful for, but I am totally exhausted.  Maybe tomorrow...



PLEASE watch your step!

What a strange series of events. As you (likely) know – since virtually nobody except my friends, family and acquaintances read this – I’m currently at home in my recliner, recovering from a second knee surgery in as many years. It’s been an introspective time around here, and I’ve been pretty thankful for the opportunity to sit in solitude and enjoy the peace of my home as I take painkillers, have other people fetch and carry and cook for me, and catch up on reruns of “Castle” and “Once Upon A Time.” I think this phase is about to get old though, as I am now finished only TWO weeks of my leave and have 10 weeks to go before I am likely allowed to return to work. That’s not a problem for me to be concerned about today, though.

What I am concerned about today are all my hurting and injured friends. A couple of weeks ago, one friend had complications from a simple medical procedure and ended up having emergency surgery. Another friend slipped on a wet patch in her own bathroom and broke her arm. A friend in California is having surgery today to have a few stubborn kidney stones removed. Today I learned that my beloved friend Margie fell on a patch of ice yesterday and broke her shoulder and wrist.

My own original injury from 2010 was due to the tiniest pebble you’ve ever seen. One minute I was walking and bantering with my family, and the next was flat on the pavement and heading for 19 months (and counting!) of surgeries & rehab.

One minute, Carol was fine, the next minute down on the cold floor. One minute, Margie was striding along a chilly Saskatoon street, and the next minute... well, you get the idea.

And since life is all about ME, I am feeling so bad about not being able to pitch in and help these dear ones out when they need me. Thankfully there are many others around to pitch in instead.

So please say a little prayer for me and my friends. And, please, watch out for the little things, because you never know when they are going to knock you flat.

Something lovely for you to enjoy today.

I found this via Ann Voskamp's wonderful blog "Holy Experience."  I love Van Gogh, and wonder what he would have thought about this century's technology and the way it enables artists in new, interactive ways.  Enjoy!

http://vimeo.com/36466564

My new hobby. And my dog.

I needed a new hobby.  One that I can do sitting down, of course, and one that doesn't cost anything or require any trips to Michael's.  So.... I've jumped on the Instagram band wagon.  Kinda fun - I can take mediocre photos on my phone and then make them look a little quirky.  Then I can post them to the delight of readers family members near and far.

This is Beamer, who knows how to deal with a snowy February day.  She's a warm little companion for me as I sit in my easy chair and play with Instagram.  The only problem is that she startles and jumps down every time her furry brother Skittles barks at passing pedestrians.  Or when he barks at the dogs in the backyard across the street.  Or when he barks at the garbage truck, or... 

After carefully investigating the source of the barking, and giving her valuable input, Beamer returns to the side of my chair and needs a lift back into the hollow of the chair, tucked right inside the blanket.  Until...

What are you doing to fill your time on this winter's day?  And, who is sharing your day?

On the inner tumoil of being "Purely Decorative"

My new morning routine is very, very different from my old one.

My old routine seems pretty typical for a family with two working parents: get up, feed kid, find lunchmoney/trombone/homework/permission form, say goodbye to kid leaving for bus, slap on some makeup, get dressed, kiss husband, leave for work a teeny bit late, and pray for green lights.

New routine – get up, take meds. (9 pills this morning, can you believe it?) Try to stay out of Steve’s way as he feeds kid, finds lunchmoney/trombone/homework/permission form. Call goodbye from my spot on the couch to kid leaving for bus. Thank Steve for bringing me coffee & breakfast. Move to easy chair. Thank Steve for refilling my ice machine (rehab ice therapy machine is my constant companion), for bringing me water and phone and iPad and meds for the day. Kiss Steve goodbye as he leaves for work a teeny bit late. Pray for green lights for him. Sit in quiet room and fill the hours with books, knitting, DVDs.

Much as I am NOT enjoying the discomfort (ok, it’s pain... I’m just trying to sound stoic about it) I think the worst thing is how useless I am. Steve is wonderful, and he tells me with a sweet kiss that I am purely decorative right now. He tells me that he loves to serve me, and I thank God for giving me this man with such a heart.

But, being this useless gets old very quickly. I can’t even put on my own shoes, or carry a glass of water over to the table, let alone run errands, or make my husband a latte, or feed my family. I thank God for Shirley and Kerry and Laura who have brought meals for us. I’m quite pathetically grateful for these women who have served our family. I’m also grateful to our kids who have had to pick up the slack and tend to so many other things than their normal responsibilities.

I honestly canNOT wait until I can be back up and in the kitchen again without being in the way. I already miss the independence of driving and running errands. I think it’s very normal that I feel guilty about requiring so much of those around me. And please don’t tell me to relax and “enjoy” being served by others. I KNOW about being served. I am blessed more than I can say by those who show their love by serving me. It’s not about enjoying it, it’s about accepting with gratitude the give of others sacrificing themselves for me.

The lesson I am learning – again – is that I must listen to the call to serve others as I have been served. Serving Steve is easy, because I love him and I see immediate benefits to bringing him lattes and making him meatloaf. I am seeing that I need to extend outside my own walls and serve my community in new and self-sacrificial ways. I know I do that already, sure, but not enough. Honestly, I only serve when it’s convenient. Or when I have time, or money. True service is when it’s inconvenient, and when I don’t have the time or money.

Our family is talking a lot these days about building and reinforcing our Church community, and what our role might look like. I want to inspire all 5 of us to sacrifice our comfort and our time to serve the body of Christ. We have some ideas. We’re planning to aim to invite people over for Sunday lunches, which means we’ll be sacrificing lazy afternoons, and I’ll be sacrificing my pride in revealing to others that our home actually looks lived in. I am planning to build up a stash of freezer meals so I can whip out a meal for someone who needs it at short notice. That’s what we’ve come up with so far, we’ll keep you posted. (And, if you are in the foyer at Bethany in weeks to come, you might get a random lunch invitation from the Bowens!)

For now, though, I’m useless. It’s bad. I hate it. I know it’s a short term problem. I am enjoying the chance to enjoy some quiet hours but I miss being functional. It’s not my season right now. Right now, I am purely decorative. And I am practicing being thankful.

Here’s today’s instalment as I aim to list 1000 things I am thankful for:
72. Homemade lemon pie in the fridge – thanks to our dear Kim.
73. Surviving a trip to Safeway to restock the fridge and cupboards.
74. April who drove us! (see #73)
75. Kim who cheerfully helped get supper on the table and cleaned up after #73.
76. Steve got up with me in the middle of the night and re-wrapped my knee and helped me try to get comfortable so I could sleep.
77. Phil Reinder’s great prayer book Seeking God’s Face
78. Exuberant orange tiger lilies in a bouquet from last week
79. I figured out a way to open the back door so I could let the dogs out without having to get up. (Hint: crutch as long range tool...)
80. The full moon last night that lit the sky even in the middle of the night.
81. A pretty blue and clear water bottle, and #82. The crystal clear water within it.
82. The volunteers at our school who are sacrificing their time, even now wrapping up hundreds of hot dogs that will be delivered to kids (and, shhhh, teachers!) who love Hot Dog days.
83. The student who sent me an email to tell me he was dog sitting for someone and that he wanted to tell me he actually liked taking care of said dog. No mention of cleaning up after same. ;-)
84. Our old clock that was Steve’s great-grandparents. Its peaceful ticking is a constant and soothing companion in our quiet house. We’re so glad it still runs after all these years and that even though it doesn’t keep great time, it still gives us much pleasure. (Hmm, might be a lesson for me in there.)
85. Yellow yarn
86. April’s new glasses with funky blue frames.
87. A great benefit plan that paid for #86
88. April’s wonderful attitude about having to get glasses at age 19.

Thanks for reading my ramblings,
Susan

More blessings on this snowy Monday.

More to be thankful for today:

62. A 15 year old son who willingly and cheerfully learns to do his own laundry. AND THEN HE DOES IT!!
63. Fresh snow - just a skiff. I love watching it fall in the dark: tiny points of light hurrying to rest on the old snow below.
64. Potted roses from my inlaws. Trudy was definite that she wanted to get a plant that doesn't look beautiful just yet, so that I could have the pleasure of watching the buds open and be glorious in their tiny, sweet way.
65. Supper (provided by Laura) in the crockpot already. Another day that we won't starve!
66. Lavendar soap.
67. Donair pizza from Domino's. Sweet & spicy, yum.
68. Digestive cookies. Where have you been all this time? I haven't had any for years and years, then a nurse brought them to me in the hospital and they were THE BEST THING I HAVE EVER EATEN. No lie. Well, maybe a bit of hyperbole.
69. Steve changed my dressing last night and left the bandages open for a few minutes so I could scratch. Bliss. No lie. Not even hyperbole.
70. My old scar was really ugly, and my surgeon this time cut away a lot of the old scar tissue so I have a fresh, smaller incision. My knee still looks like a railway switching yard, but it'll be a bit better, and I am grateful.
71. Time to rest. I am already bored, after only one week (of up to 12) off. But - honestly I am so thankful that I can lie back and catch my breath for awhile.

Blessed,
Susan

Nothing Profound

I have so many exciting and creative ideas in my brain right now, and I’m not going to share any of them! I am quite sure that 99% of said ideas are fuelled by Percoset, and so I think it would be better to hand on to any shreds of self-respect I still have by keeping them to myself!

It’s great to be on the “done” side of Wednesday’s surgery. All went according to plan, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t have a few moments (quite a few, actually) of anxiety and panicky feelings in the days leading up to Wednesday. I will spare you most of the details of the day, but here are a few, without being too boring, I hope!

First of all, Banff hospital is a really nice place – for a hospital! It’s much more personal – first name basis for everyone, please, including the 3 doctors in the surgery. (Laurie, Harry, and some other guy who’s name I can’t remember, sorry, Dr!) The nurses were just the right mix of friendly and efficient, and were never too busy to stop awhile and listen to me chatter or bring me something to make me comfortable.) Pretty good food, incredible views out the window, you get the idea.

More and more surgeries are now performed using a spinal block instead of a general anaesthesia. This meant that I was awake and alert for the first part of the operation, and was able to chat and answer (and ask!) questions of the docs and nurses. My surgeon was so excited to work on my weird knee, and even thanked me for letting her operate on it. (“I LOVE to start my day with an interesting knee!”) I got to watch the first part of the surgery as she explored the whole knee using a scope to look around. She was making her “to-do list” and also confirming that she could do everything she’d planned. Once she called for a knife, though, the anaesthetist winked at me and said “Aw, the next part is too boring to watch!” and he turned off my screen. He also added a little something to my iv that made me really, really relaxed. I mean, REALLY. Still awake, but really didn’t care too much about anything. As soon as the surgery was done he shut off everything and I was totally alert again within 5 minutes. No struggling to swim up from the depths of a general anaesthetic, no 2 or 3 days of feeling like I’d been run over by a moose. (It was Banff, after all!) I felt pretty good – until the spinal wore off. At that point the anaesthetist put in a femoral nerve block, so I didn’t need any other pain meds for about 10 hours. Beautiful.

OK, too much detail, moving on. Let me just say that I am home, well taken care of by my family, and spending 16 hours a day on the couch with my leg elevated and ice water circulating around my knee. The other 8 hours a day, I am in my bed, with my leg elevated, and ice water circulating around my knee. Poor Steve is exhausted with waiting on me, changing my ice, feeding the dogs, on and on.

I have so much to be grateful for today! Here is today’s instalment toward 1000 gifts:
44. Total bill so far for about $15,000 worth of medical care this week: $129.
45. A cool (literally) pump that circulates ice water around my knee 24 hours a day to try & keep the swelling down.
46. Flowers from my wonderful Mommy. (via Kim & April, her accomplices.)
47. Flowers from our connecting group.
48. A yummy meal on Friday from sweet Shirley – also part of our connecting group.
49. Comfort food last night courtesy of my beloved Kerry – including warm cinnamon buns and a fresh banana loaf. Friends are wonderful, aren’t they?
50. Skittles, who lay on my chest all morning while the family was away at church – apparently it was his job to keep an eye on me.
51. Painkillers- not gonna lie, this makes all the difference.
52. The internet – I feel much more in touch with the world than I thought I would be.
53. Our beautiful art in our family room – I haven’t taken time in years to really look at all the nice things we have. It’s a gift to really look with new eyes at these things that have meaning to us.
54. The big tree in our backyard is full of busy sparrows and chickadees. What a joyful kerfuffle they make.
55. My little red laptop that Steve gave me last time I had knee surgery. Such a gift to have a way to stay connected. (see #52)
56. The new teachers report that my studentss are transitioning well. I’m so relieved!
57. A sweet card and book from the choir at Bethany. I love that musical community and will miss it while I’m down.
58. This phenomenal weather – I was able to sit in the sun on our front porch yesterday and enjoy the fresh air. Benton & his Venturers company went winter camping this weekend and slept in quinzhees. (That’s a self-dug snow cave, as you surely know already.) So great to not have to worry about the weather!
59. Fuzzy slippers
60. The entire first three seasons of Castle on DVD... and the time to watch them.
61. Candy hearts

I think it's naptime, must go!
Susan

Who am I?

The sermon this week was about who we are - in Christ, of course. But, we also were invited to consider what we know about ourselves: our passions, talents, and interests.

Who am I? I honestly haven't had time to even remember that lately. I suppose that becoming a working Mom for the past 6 years I have neglected the slow thinking, the wondering, the inward gaze. With little to do over the next few months, perhaps I am being the gift of time to think, and to remember who I am.

One thing I know for sure: being slightly broken doesn't define me. I am NOT "Susan with a limp." I am Susan. I do limp, but that is not who I am. God uses the long journey of my injury (and since) to help shape my character, but not define it. I must resist the temptation to dwell in "what I can't do" and instead work toward my future.

Selfishly I pray that my character has been shaped enough by this, and that the surgery this week will be a success, and that a year from now I won't limp any more. Oh, I hope so. But, if it doesn't, then I will move forward and live as just Susan.

I am me. I am a child of God. I am a believer in Jesus Christ. I am impulsive and lazy and organized and some other things that I don't really know yet.

I have a limp, but it isn't who I am.

If you are looking for me over the next few months, I'll be in my living room. I would love to see you, or hear from you. I am not looking forward to the isolation of being home without mobility, and communication would make the time pass faster. Thanks so much for your prayer support, and for the practical support that is needed for our family.

I am blessed.

And, I'm not just saying that to sound all "Christian" either. Really, truly blessed. I forget about it. Then sometimes God has wakes me up to worry about HOW DIRE THINGS ACTUALLY ARE and then carefully and creatively solves my problem, much more beautifully than I could have solved it.

Case in point: as of this morning, the replacement teacher for my job changed her mind and declined the position, for some excellent reasons. Kudos to her for carefully considering and doing the right thing. But... that did leave 18 charming 7 year olds without a teacher as of Monday.

Panic? Sure, why not!

I can tell you, though, that the Father had everything all planned and perfected. By 2:30 pm, two teachers who are already familiar with the school - and with my students - had agreed to share the position. Truly, truly, I can't be happier. These women will love my kids and take care of them and teach them well. My kids will love them - in fact they already do. They just don't know it yet!

In the meantime, God provided so much for me to be thankful for... so let me add to my list of 1000 with all the GOOD in my life today:

28. Colleagues who came by my room at just the right time to hear my fear and worries and encourage me that right now, it's ok to not really be ok.
29. My caring friend and teaching partner Terri, who took my supervision to give me 20 minutes to catch up on all the stuff I have to catch up on.
30. Name #1 - who I am not yet at liberty to share.
31. Name #2 - ditto
32. An understanding and generous admin team that cares about my students and I, not just about shuffling paper and schedules.
33. It was Marcie's month to do the newsletter, so I don't have to worry about it. She did a great job, too.
34. Steve - answering his email in the middle of a busy day to tell me he loves me and thinks I'm amazing and that he was praying.
35. Warm sun through my south facing classroom.
36. A generous parent who donated a LOT of crafty items from the store she works at.
37. Vanilla coffee.
38. A friendly and detail-filled voice mail from the hospital with all the information I was wondering about for next week.
39. Watching kids realize that they can read music. All those balls and sticks suddenly resolve into something that makes sense and is comprehensible.
40. A student who has been struggling with self-control learns how rewarding it is to serve his classmates - and suddenly he is filled with joy and the desire to do well.
41. My beloved Kim is 22 years old, today. I could probably write a list of 1000 things to be thankful about, just about Kim.
42. These dumb dogs - seriously, they make me laugh the second I walk through the door!
43. A gift card, left from before Christmas, that we can use to take Kim out for dinner tonight to celebrate her birthday.


Oh, I'd better stop. Being thankful is calming - I like feeling the panic from earlier in the day slip away. I'm on a roller coaster, so I'll probably be panicking about something else tomorrow, but I'll hold on, and all will be well.

More to be thankful for already!

God is so faithful... there is so much around me to be grateful for.

20. Little kids skating: tongues out for concentration, arms outstretched for balance.
21. A gift of a serving of apple crisp from a parent, just to brighten my day.
22. Exam week for Benton. (Purely selfish - it means an extra 45 minutes of sleep for me!)
23. A surprise second bloom from the amaryllis on my classroom windowsill.
24. Clean floors, clean counters, clean bathroom. I love clean.
25. Outdoor recess.
26. Warm spring smells in the air this morning.
27. Blue tape. Yellow tape. Green tape. I love tape.

In which we survive last week, and discuss surviving the week to come.

Oh, man.

This past week has been so full.

First off, let me just say that I love my job. I really do look forward to going in to school, spending my day with my munchkins, and coming on home to my little world at home. It's a good life. BUT.... Calgary's normally mild(ish) climate dumped 7 straight days of bitter cold on us, which meant that my kiddos couldn't play outside.

Fun for the first day.

Fun for the second day, until midafternoon when we started to get a little tired of one another.

Bearable for the third day, until midafternoon when apparently the wheels fell off.

Stressful and draining for the fourth day.

A bit hysterical on the fifth day.

Normally I choose not to be a person who waits all week for Friday, and complains about being back to work on Monday, but I've gotta say that Friday afternoon looked really good. Thankfully the forecast looks better this week.

Tomorrow marks the beginning of my last week of work before going on medical leave. So much is yet to do. I want to leave things in excellent shape for my replacement so that the transition is easier on my kiddos. I've been pondering how difficult the whole process will be on them. They'll be fine, but it's not a journey I would choose for them. Or for me, for that matter.

Interviews for my replacement will be on Tuesday, and hopefully the new teacher can spend Thursday and Friday with us.

Lots to do at school, at home, at the gym... yikes. Got to get new crutches, fix my old brace, get a handicapped parking thingy, try to put some casseroles in the freezer...

Reading over this post, I am struck by how calm I sound about the surgery, and about leaving work. In reality, I feel myself catching my breath from time to time, thinking about what lies ahead. The last surgery and rehab were life changing. I'm not really sure I can handle the pain. I really don't look forward to crutches for months again. I dread the thought of slipping on the ice, on wet floors, on uneven ground. Morphine isn't as fun as it sounds. (Though apparently I am a barrel of laughs when I'm on it, just ask my friend Kerry.) I hate it that Steve will have to do everything for me, right down to helping me in and out of the shower and putting my socks on, let alone driving me everywhere and taking charge of the food and the house.

God is sufficient. God is sufficient.

Years ago I heard a speaker teach us that:

1. God Knows.

2. God Cares.

3. God Can.

4. God Will. (Or more likely, He already has.)

God KNOWS the future of my ability/disability. He knows my fearful moments and my concerns. He knows how this is all going to play out. He CARES about my future, and my heart, and my desire to be productive and able-bodied for years to come. God CAN fix it, He can protect me from further damage, from panic, from losing my control to the pain of the surgery and the rehab. God WILL... well, that's the part I don't really know yet.

God Will do what He knows is best. His love for me isn't constrained in any way. If I truly believe that, then how can I believe He will do anything less than the best for me?

I don't know what that looks like yet, but I will.

I have much to be grateful for, and I know I must list them to put my life into perspective:

9. A loving and present faith community.

10. Pedicures.

11. A full paycheque while I'm off. (I'm all about the practical.)

12. 18 good applicants for my principal to choose a replacement from.

13. Melting snow.

14. Yummy italian lunch, paid for by my inlaws.

15. Grilled cheese and tomato soup. Really, what would life be like if nobody had ever discovered that particular combination?

16. Steve. I know, that was kinda #1, too. That's ok.

17. My friend Margie who offered to drive me to physio as often as I need to go, and who even let me know her schedule so I can plan around her.

18. Hugs from Mackenzie.

19. Baby Juliana.

Life is sweet.

Susan

Preparation

Three Years.

This blog has been dormant for three years.

Two Weeks.

In two weeks I have a surgery that may - or may not - ensure I regain full mobility and return to my former "spry" self. I'll be on surgical leave for three months or so. For the past few weeks I've been toying with the idea of journalling while I'm off work. Since writing is always more fun when it's for an audience, I'd rather journal on a blog. And, to be efficient, why begin all over again when I can just dust off the old one?

1000.

Over Christmas, I read the book 1000 Gifts by Ann Voskamp. Her challenge: to change my perspective on life by opening my eyes to the gifts poured over me every day. I'd like to piggy back my disability leave onto my efforts to record 1000 gifts over the next while. I guess in my mind, rehabbing from yet another surgery is a good time to look for thankfulness in my life.

So, without further ado:

1. My very.patient.husband!

2. Canadian Health Care. Not perfect, but good.

3. Colleagues who care about me - and my students - and who pick up the slack for me with grace.

4. My students - who will miss me. It's nice to be missed.

5. Our furnace: a reliable source of warmth on a -33C day.

6. Prayer from a wonderful Godly woman at church last Sunday.

7. Book recommendations from friends. (Thank you, Karen.)

8. Soft bed. Clean sheets. Warm blankets. Rest.

Feeling blessed,

Susan