Moving On

I did it.

I woke at 7:30 am Friday morning. Rolled out of bed by 7:50 am - in need of coffee. And arrived at Hangar Clinic just before 9 am. 

By 10 am, we had a plan. 

Just this morning, my insurance company approved everything. So, by the end of this week, I'll have new AFO's, and the armor boots (or Star Wars looking shin guards), will actually stabilize my buckling knees, aka: "crouch gate."

Matrix Dynamic AFO Foot Drop Brace

A few days before the appointment, I sat down with my Bible and whispered, "Jesus,"—like I mentioned in my last post.  

Without fanfare or warning, right there in the quiet of the morning, I suddenly felt as if the real Susan washed over me. Or that heaven stopped by with a dew drop of joy, allowing for deep, abiding breaths that filled my inner being.

The sweet moment needs to be recorded simply because I have no other explanation for the divine transformation. God met me at my kitchen table. Teeth un-brushed. Medicines not swallowed. Caffeine by my side.

After a week or more of fighting an anguished soul, hope broke through and renewed my spirit.

Which is why I still believe.

Now... how will I maintain that hope?

First, I plan to spend time remembering that a lot of people have no access to AFO's, walkers, wheelchairs, and supplements—not to mention 70% off department store clothing sale racks.

Our health care system may prove difficult and require patience, but some where, right now, a child can't walk or play; a child who may never receive proper care or a brand new shirt.

Second, I've determined to chlorinate the poop-filled-mental-lazy-river I often find myself adrift on. For even after the dew drop from heaven eased the hurt in my soul, I still got caught in the under toe of negative thinking that haunts my every day.

I critique decisions. Rehearse what should have been. And hold myself hostage, bound to past failures and perceived judgments from others. 

And you know what? Until I chlorinate my frame of mind in a more determined way, that kind of thinking will eat at my soul. 

So I'm currently at work, retraining my thoughts and fighting the current that pulls my thoughts from hope. 

The change will require practice, awareness, and kindness toward me... which in turn brings me to my last point.

A day is coming when God will take me home. It may be forty years from now or sooner. I don't know. 

But on that day, I'll whisper, "Jesus," and leave my wadded up soul behind. And none of this will matter. 

So why do I give it so much thought power now?

You can bet I'll continue to wake each day and attempt to live out life as the Holy Spirit leads. I don't plan to coast. But I do plan to leave more of the angst, fear, and self-deprecating thinking behind. 

I'll never get it all right. But I was never supposed to. That's what the cross is for.

My right leg continues to drag more than I like or understand. But I'm ready to walk strong in spirit or with new braces to stabilize my legs. 

God is not surprised by my current plight. Thus, it's time for me to just move on... and on and on.



Most photos courtesy of pixabay.ccom