The Greatest of These is Love

I finished reading a book tonight.  I haven't done that in a long while.  Usually when I read, I pick out the Christian make-yourself-a-better-person-and-grow-in-God type books.  Or Ted Dekker.  And when I finish those books, I always find myself just a little bit changed.  Only a little bit, but I've observed that it's those little bits that add up to a changed heart and a new person.

This time I read a different book, a learn-by-example autobiography.  It's called Kisses from Katie, and it stirred my heart and challenged me in an encouraging way.  Actually, here.  Watch about it for yourself:

Amazing, right?  She's like a modern-day Mother Theresa.  As I read her book, I almost felt like I was looking inside the window to her house and watching her live her daily life.  Her heart is bigger and wiser beyond her years, doing and learning and growing in ways most of us will never know.

I've been so very inspired by her story.  I read about what she's done, all for the Name of Christ, and I want to be like her.  I want to live every moment of my day in ways that exude Jesus and fulfill my purpose on this earth.

I have no plans to move to Uganda and pursue the same life she is living (though I suspect my 15 year old sponsored Ugandan child would absolutely love it if I did).  We admire and praise those who give their lives to spreading the news of Jesus in third-world countries, but only some are called to such a life.

The rest of us...we are called to spread the news of Jesus in our country.  The poverty-stricken people of Uganda are no less saved and broken than the wealth-stricken people of America.  At the end of life, we all die, whether rich or poor or educated or not.  And we all go to one of two place:  heaven or hell.  God loves and grieves for the lost down my comfortable street just as much as He does the disease-ridden malnourished lost souls in Africa.

All that to say that for now I plan to continue in the work He has set before me right now.  The little bit of change Katie's book has left me with is this:  I must love.  That is my true calling in life, no matter where I am or what I do.  I must love harder and deeper and longer and with every fiber of my heart and soul.  I must sacrifice because I love.  I must give and hug and laugh with and cry with until every ounce of me is exhausted and can go on no longer...and then I must love some more.  I must do this, because this is what Christ has done for me.  It is what He asks - commands - me to do.  Love isn't a feeling or an emotion.  Love is an action.  It's a response to God's love for me.  I am to love others, even to the point of death, because that is how Christ loved.

I am still trying to figure out what this looks like in my Midwestern comfort.  But then I try to figure less and do more, because the more I stop to think about it, the more I use my thinking as an excuse to not do what I was called to do because I then start to believe that I need to have it all figured out before I can be successful.  That is a lie.  Thinking gets in the way of my purpose.  My purpose is to love.  Because I am loved.

Love is hard.  It's risky.  It hurts.  It's messy and exhausting.  It demands time and energy and effort and relentless pursuit.  It means less of me and more of someone who may never even notice.  It draws me nearer to the heart of my Creator.  It bridges gaps and binds together.  It inspires and moves and gives hope.  It changes lives for eternity.  I want to be a part of that.

. . . . . . . . . .

Follow Katie's daily adventures at her blog:  kissesfromkatie.blogspot.com

Case Study: The Long-Term Effects of Kinesio Tape on Hallux Valgus - Week 7

My apologies for slacking on my foot updates.  I've been keeping to my taping schedule, but haven't managed to remember to take regular measurements.  Christmas happened, and then I had Holiday Brain and didn't get my act together until this past week.  (I am still suffering from Holiday Hips and Holiday Thighs and Holiday Butt.)

I also have no new pictures.  (If you'd like to see pictures, feel free to read the first two posts.  Click here and here.)

Anyway, here's a review followed by the most recent measurements.

WEEK 0

Starting Measurements (11/21/11)

L MTP:  35 degrees valgus
R MTP: 30 degrees valgus

Measurements after Taping

L MTP:  15 degrees valgus
R MTP:  20 degrees valgus


WEEK 2
Measurements with tape on (12/7/11)

L MTP 21 degrees
R MTP 18 degrees

Measurements with tape off

L MTP 25 degrees
R MTP 22 degrees

After I'd had the tape off for a full 24 hours, I re-measured.  Then I measured one more time with new tape on.

Measurements after 24 hours

L MTP 28 degrees
R MTP 28 degrees

Measurements with new tape applied

L MTP 24 degrees valgus
R MTP 20 degrees valgus



WEEK 7
Measurements with tape on (1/12/12)

L MTP 28 degrees valgus
R MTP 27 degrees valgus

Measurements with tape off

L MTP 29 degrees valgus
R MTP 25 degrees valgus  (???)

Measurements after 24 hours

L MTP 28 degrees valgus
R MTP 23 degrees valgus (!!!)

Measurements with new tape applied

L MTP 26 degrees valgus
R MTP 22 degrees valgus

A few observations regarding these most recent measurements:

*The numbers aren't continuing in a steady and consistent decline.
*My left toe isn't changing at all, and in fact, seems to be getting a little worse.
*My right toe...I don't know what it's doing.  Those are some weird numbers.  It showed less valgus after the tape was removed.

My left toe seems to be plateauing.  It had the greatest changes right off the bat, whereas my right toe didn't do much.  Now the right one is suddenly showing all kinds of improvements.  I'm measuring the same way each time to be consistent, but I will admit that I have a hard time palpating my metatarsals and lining up the goni accordingly.

Still, there have been changes.  My left toe continues to show a 7 degree decrease (with the tape off), which was the same as five weeks ago.  My right toe is now also showing a 7 degree decrease, but five weeks ago showed only a 2 degree decrease, so it continues to change.

I'm not sure how long I will continue taping my feet.  Next week will mark two months, but I haven't started any running yet and I want to see how the tape and running together affect my feet.  So I'll keep going for at least a few more weeks.  Maybe I'll shoot for the three or four month mark.  We'll see how I'm feeling when I get to the end of three months.  :)

In other news, I'm now officially a Certified Kinesio Taping Practitioner (CKTP)!  I've taken and passed the test and have everything but the official certificate in hand.  Hoping that will come soon.  In the meantime, I continue to tape my patients on a daily basis, probably at least half of them.  We have a few regulars that ask for the tape at each treatment.  If I had to guess, I'd say 8 out of 10 patients feel immediate relief after being taped.  Some of those who don't have had trouble keeping it on, either because their clothes rub it off or they just take it off after they leave the clinic.  And a scant few keep it on but don't notice any difference.

I know I have a few PT classmates following these updates.  Here are some of the diagnoses I've taped:  LBP, DeQuervain's, lateral epidonylitis, shoulder instability, HAs, upper trap tightness, scoliosis, PFP, MCL strain, peroneal tendinitis, arthritis, muscle strain/pain, bruising, and swelling/edema (to name a few).  I recruited a friend at church this morning to be a guinea pig for me, and I'm super excited because I'm going to try taping her for her breathing and pregnancy.  Love trying new stuff!

God, please help me make good decisions today.

It's been a frequent prayer this week, because I'm back on the path to seeking weight loss and exercise.  A year ago, this path seemed easy to walk.  Now I'm returning and finding it broken and overgrown (words that also seem to describe me lately).  I don't understand why it's so much harder to make good choices now.  All I know is, despite my prayers, I can't seem to succeed.

This frustrates me greatly.  And as I look at it, I can see that this path shares ground with other journeys.  My quest to make new friends in a new place feels to be repeatedly failing.  My list of projects overwhelms me at times, so I cope by doing nothing.  My attempts at growing my faith are feeble at best and take me nowhere.  Spiritual disciplines I desire remain nothing more than desires for my lack of action.

Each of these "failures" weighs me down, and the lies creep in and take root.  (Maybe this is the source of the overgrown weeds that blocks my path.)  Each of these seem so very different from one another, yet it is the root of my sense of failure that ties them all together.  I can't help but think maybe if I could figure out the root, I could get all of the areas licked.

I think the root is my source of identity.  I desire value from appearance, size, friends, accomplishments, even my spirituality.  My sense of value isn't coming from the true Source.

But I hate that because it's cliche.  Every problem can be spiritualized and thus solved with a simple spiritual answer. Take care of it.  Move on.

So why isn't it that easy?  When I say to God, I need you to be my Source and Sustainer, why doesn't that solve all my problems?  When I ask for strength to make good choices for today, why do I continue to lose ground on my diet?  What is wrong with me that I can't get it figured out?

It's a daily battle.  I'm supposed to fail when I do it on my own.  My failures drive me to God.

Yes, but again, cliche.  I want something that works, something solid and tangible.  No more of this vapory-mist of ideas and concepts that slip through my fingers.

I know what the right answers are supposed to be.  I know what moving forward is supposed to look like.  Yet somehow, I remain stuck, watching the solutions swirl about me in a hazy dance.  And I can't help but return to wondering what is wrong with me.

Waiting

Mary did you know...

The more I hear this song, the more I like it.  As the lyrics played again last night, it struck me that Mary had to wait thirty whole years before she saw God finish the work He started.

...that your baby boy would one day walk on water?

There was a lot of excitement surrounding the angel's first appearance to Mary, and then again at the birth of her baby.  But then...nothing.  Life as usual.

The Child that you delivered will soon deliver you.

What did Mary think as the years went by, as she and Joseph eeked out a living to feed and clothe their family?  What went through her mind as she taught her Spirit-conceived baby to walk and feed himself, just like any other baby conceived by man?

When you kiss your little Baby, you kissed the face of God...

What sort of future did Mary see for her boy as she watched her husband's skilled carpenter hands teach the family's livelihood to a set of awkward teenage hands?  Did she wonder about his future of public speaking as he taught his circle of peers in the dusty streets?  Or did he prefer the quiet and lonely comfort offered by wood, a hammer, and nails?

Mary did you know...

When her son became a man and joined the ranks of humble carpentry, did she start to question the events surrounding his birth?  Did she wonder if she heard wrong, believed wrong, misunderstood?  Did she start to question God and His plan?  Did she start to give up on hope for the miraculous and settle for ordinary instead?

...that your Baby Boy is Lord of all creation?


Or did Mary hold God to His promises?  For thirty uneventful years, did Mary trust God and believe unwaveringly that He would come through?  Did she pray "May it be as You have said" just as fervently in the third decade as she had when the angel first appeared?

The sleeping Child you're holding is the Great I Am.

Homesickness finally hit me this week for the first time since I moved over three months ago.  I'm finally slowing down long enough to start processing my new life.  At the same time, five hundred miles from me, precious hearts are being broken, and I am too far to be close.

My friend and I have been chatting this week, and there is a steady pattern to our conversation.

Sam made it home. 
She made it home for Christmas.

One by one, saints whose lives I only know from a distance are going home.  One in high school, another in a nursing home.  As I type, I am waiting to hear from another friend who is spending her December sitting bedside in a hospital, waiting for her mother to make it home with the others.

What a homecoming it must be.

Not that long ago, I walked this same path that these friends now tread.  I remember the night my dad made it home.  I can't help but wonder if these friends are experiencing the same thoughts and emotions I did.  Pain, yes.  But more overwhelming than that was the peace.  Peace that transcends all understanding, that guards our hearts and minds.  Peace that makes the whole process somewhat bearable.  And hope.  Hope in knowing that this is not the end.  Oh no.  Definitely not the end.  Merely the beginning.

I wonder if, instead of the shadow of death, my friends see their loved ones in the very presence of Christ.  That is the thought that consumed me during that late-night drive home from the hospital.  It was overwhelming and I couldn't think on it more than a few moments at a time, for it was too much.  When we walked out of the hospital room for the last time, we left my dad's body laying in the bed, cold and silent and still.  But he was not dead, and I knew that as tangibly as I knew the sky was black and the stars were shining over the dark county roads.  I cried, not because my dad was dead, but because he was in the very presence of Jesus, and it was more than my heart could contain.

These saints, young and old, knew Jesus.  They believed Him and knew Him and loved Him in this life.  And because of their faith and His grace, they stand with Him now, more alive than ever.

I wonder if my friends are brought to their knees in the hope and peace and wonder of this beautiful mystery.

Sam.
Estrid.
Melvin.

They made it home.