Where Our Prayers Might Go

Last January, my husband, Don,  pointed out that buying ink for my old printer (that wasn't easily hooked up to my lap top) was more expensive than just buying a new one. Tired of not having easy access to a printer, I spent time in office supply stores.

My new printer cost more than ink cartridges for the old one, but not enough to fuss about. As I set it up, I marveled at the extra $20 worth of features.

While I'm intrigued that I can print music paper, wide or college ruled notebook paper, and various stationary, I still haven't grown used to the wi-fi capabilities.

My printer sits on a desk at the top of my stairs. I write on my lap top at the kitchen table down stairs. When I need to print something, I push the printer button from my perch in the kitchen and words float through the air to the machine upstairs.

It thrills me every time. How do words transcend from machine to machine with no cord in between?

A techie genius could explain it. And since I've been texting for years perhaps I shouldn't be quite so amazed. But I like the visual. My words leave this contraption called my lap top and appear on paper, waiting fifteen feet above my head.

It makes me wonder where our prayers might go.

Some days it seems my prayers fall flat. But after purchasing my new printer, I'm all the more convinced they never do. If computer generated words can float through the air and arrive somewhere concrete, how much more so the cries of our hearts to the Almighty God of the universe.

"The priests and the Levites stood to bless the people, and God heard them, for their prayer reached heaven, his holy dwelling place." (2 Ch 30: 27)

Our prayers don't often generate an immediate print out response. But if man can create machines that capture invisible word particles and print them back out, how much more does God grab hold of our prayers and work on our behalf.

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to  God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." (Phil. 4: 6 - 7)

On this sunny Saturday afternoon, I'm off to UGA for another concert... confident my prayers are heard.

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Muddy Mito and Cavovarus Feet

I climbed onto the patient table and peered over the edge. Peachtree Street traffic scurried below. A stream of sunshine warmed my cool legs as I watched Atlanta hurry by while waiting for the doctor. When I closed my eyes, the balmy rays left me feeling I was pool side.

The view below reminded me otherwise.

When the doctor came in, he asked me why I was there. Why I am here? I thought. Your PA ordered an MRI of my ankle.

"Tell me your story from the beginning," he quipped. "Which beginning?" I asked. "From the 'mito part' or just the 'pain in my arch that stops me mid-stride' part?"

"Well, tell me about mito disease," he encouraged.

So I told my doctor about the energy deficiency disorder that weakens my muscles and joints. He'd never heard of it which didn't surprise me. But it was disheartening to be talking to a specialist who had no idea about my underlying issue. Especially when it was most likely a big part of the problem he's trying to help me with.

Muddy mito. Those who live with it know it's a muddy mito world out there.

The doctor told me the MRI report indicated I have a small tear in a tendon behind my ankle. He brushed it off since the pain that stops me cold is in my arch. I tried to explain I live with lots of pain and it all runs together so I was only focusing on the absolute worst part when talking to him. But he wrote papers for me to get orthotic inserts and sent me home saying, "I have no idea why your arch hurts."

Deep sigh.

When I made the appointment to see the PT who's making the inserts, however, I read the words "cavovarus feet" on the order. A Google search sent me here:

Adult Cavovarus Feet

"Cavovarus foot deformity, which often results from an imbalance of muscle forces, is commonly caused by hereditary motor sensory neuropathies...  In cavovarus foot deformity, the relatively strong peroneus longus and tibialis posterior muscles cause a hindfoot varus and forefoot valgus (pronated) position. Hindfoot varus causes overload of the lateral border of the foot, resulting in ankle instability, peroneal tendinitis, and stress fracture..."

Alastair S. E. Younger and

Sigvard T. Hansen, Jr

J Am Acad Orthop Surg September 2005; 13:302-315.

Muddy mito indeed.

I pick up new inserts in a week and am hoping they will de-stress the tendons that run from the outside of my ankles up the side of my legs. But since my legs showed off in a bad way for the therapist the day she fit me for the insoles, she was concerned they won't help enough.

I still have hope. Maybe it's the bright sunshine outside today or the warmth I felt perched high in the orthopedic office last week. Maybe it's just because it's Sunday afternoon and I spent time in God's house this morning. Regardless, "As for me, I will always have hope; I will praise you more and more..." (Ps 71 :14)

He knows the answers. He knows what I need. He created my inmost being and knit me together in my mother's womb. (Ps 139 :13)

Muddy mito is not muddy to Him.

So "My mouth will tell of your righteousness, of your salvation all day long, though I know not its measure." (Ps. 71: 15)

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And the Wall Came Down

A few weeks ago I had a conversation with someone who said, "I know a lot of folks who are up against walls and in desperate need of breakthrough."

I was part of that group.

Days later, I went to the medical building where I see doctors and pick up prescription meds. A building I've been in and out for over fifteen years. I know its halls framed by familiar walls well.

Sometime last year, renovations began. When completed, the building will be at least three times it's current size. While I knew construction was underway, the changes took place behind those walls, so I didn't give them much thought.  

On that sunny day not long ago, I walked in the back entrance and headed to the elevator. The first floor unchanged. When I stepped onto the second floor, however, expecting to see familiar framework in place, another world opened instead.

The second floor wall was gone, opening to the grand foyer below with shiny floors, bright colors, and immaculate decor. For a moment I thought I was in a sci-fi movie where someone had flipped a switch and transported me to an alien world.

But since I don't believe in aliens, my mind soon acclimated to the change and basked in the beauty behind the wall.

I loved that moment.

"When the trumpets sounded, the people shouted, and at the sound of the trumpet, when the people gave a loud shout, the wall collapsed; so every man charged straight in, and they took the city." (Joshua 6: 20)

As I peered over the railing that day, I was encouraged. Walls come down. Things change. And there's new life on the other side.

That reassurance carried me till personal change took place. Change only God could do.

The wall came down and I remembered His many promises. And as I've thought about it more, I've been reminded that one day another wall will fall and, "He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." (Rev. 21: 4)

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Reaching for Spring

Nathan walked The Color Run Palm Sunday weekend with Jenny and Haley. I loved the end result. He arrived home glowing like spring.

When he walked in the door, my cheeks radiated from a battle with our charcoal grill. Searing flames and I had fought for hamburger rights. I almost won. Melted cheese disguised the rest and Sam went out and bought two rotisserie chickens just in case.

Twenty-one people filled plates and found seats on my covered porch. From five years of age up to 91, we ate hamburgers and salads and enjoyed the sweet taste of spring.

Then I made good use of the icing Sam wiped off his cupcake.

And Jess and Jenny cracked two eggs on the birthday boy.

I was punch tired, but grateful for the memories.

On Easter weekend, two little bunnies hunted for eggs after the Davis clan ate on the same covered porch.

Total sweetness.

Sometimes spring is all around us. Like right now. The blooming colors. The bunny ears. Resurrected life.  

But sometimes I have to reach for spring. When anxiety builds and change allows for uncertainty, I have to fight for it even. It was easy to feel spring the last two weekends. To see suffering for what it is, a temporary winter that bursts into colored landscapes with cool breezes.

"There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven..." (Ecc. 3:1)

A time for winter. A time for spring. Combining the two takes something different. A God something different.

"Blessed are those whose strength is you, who have set their hearts on pilgrimage. As they pass through the Valley of Baca, they make it a place of springs; the autumn rains also cover it with pools. They go from strength to strength till each appears before God in Zion." (Ps. 84: 5-7)

That's what I'm working towards.

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A Day at the Cross

I lived a life changing day yesterday. Spent ninety minutes (or more) in an MRI machine before driving home to attend a viewing of the Passion of the Christ. A friend of Sam's paused the movie as each scene changed so we could read the scripture references that applied.

"But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities..." (Is. 53: 5)

I wept. Sam said he teared up once. When Jesus, bloody and scarred and barely able to carry His cross, looked at Mary and said, "Behold, I make all things new."

Deformed. Beaten. Condemned. He made all things new.

"...the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed." (Is. 53 : 5)

Tired beyond tired, I almost skipped out on our evening plans. But I'm so glad I didn't. After a quick dinner, we left for Secret Church.
If you've never heard of Secret Church, check out the link. Don and I managed five of the seven hour pod cast on the cross and suffering. By midnight we caved. But my soul was nourished.

"We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to our own way; and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all."  (Is. 53: 6)

My suffering. Your suffering. Nothing compared to His.

I won't know the results of my MRI's for a week or so. And even then, this disease I battle will probably leave doctors unsure about a treatment plan.

But it's nothing. Really. My tired legs compared to his agony on the cross? They're nothing.

I'll grumble again, I'm sure. I will wrestle in the quiet, not wanting to rest but rather climb a mountain.

But today, "I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me." (Gal. 2: 20)

And this Easter, that's more than enough.

He is risen. He is risen indeed.