Lessons From Jeremy: Part 2

Jeremy overcomes fantastic odds in his optimism and pursuit to follow God’s will for him. You see, Jeremy was born twenty-five years ago with cerebral palsy. His left arm is constantly bent inward, he walks with a severe limp, it is often difficult for him to say the words he desires and more frequently difficult to understand him, and he does not always have control of all of his motor functions. To the simple passer-by, Jeremy seems to be merely another young man with special needs. To those who take the time to speak with him, Jeremy is an invaluable treasure.

Jeremy’s overwhelming joy in telling me of God’s revelation to him left me stunned. I had so many questions swimming through the murky mists in my head. I had misjudged him, and for that I could not be more sorry. I had pitied Jeremy, been sorry for what his life must be like; sometimes I had avoided him in order to maintain my comfort zone – the absurdity of that is shameful. The reality was this: Jeremy should pity me.

I hesitated, but decided to ask anyway, “Do you ever get frustrated by it all?” Oh yes, he said. He gets frustrated and lonely, but he knows he has a purpose in it all. “God uses my handicap for a purpose,” he said excitedly. Purpose. He said that word over and over again with such elation and hope. Not just in spite of circumstance, but because of it, Jeremy could encourage those around him like no one else could. Suddenly, my health issues and life problems seemed so minor and embarrassing. While I was complaining about minor daily frustrations, Jeremy was living each day to the fullest, loving everyone with whom he came into contact literally as Jesus would.

To live life as Jeremy does! What an idea it is, what a goal to which we can aspire. What lessons there are to learn from one whom the world deems to be worthy of its pity. The truth of the matter is that Jeremy should be envied by us all. In spite of pain, in spite of misfortune – if there really is such a thing – he ‘presses on toward the goal’ that God has put before him.

Yes, he becomes frustrated – but he does not let that deter him or slow down his mission to live his life for the absolute glory of God. With his big smile, he removed his ball cap and told me again how he just tries to impact the lives of the people God puts in his life. He told me that before he approached me for the second time, he had been about to go elsewhere but God told him to not leave the area. Apparently, he said, he was supposed to talk to me and he hoped that he had encouraged me. With tears in my eyes and a huge smile on my lips, I told him that he’d never know how much.

Lessons From Jeremy: Part 1

Jeremy told me I looked pretty Monday afternoon. I had just come from my tennis class and looked a sight, but I thanked him for his sweet words anyway. I know he didn’t remember me, but we’d met many times before. I met Jeremy about four years ago, while taking classes at the McKinney campus of Collin College. I hadn’t been back on that campus in at least two years, so some time had passed since last we saw each other. I smiled at him as I went to change out of my tennis clothes and into something presentable to the general public.

I didn’t see him when I came back out, which honestly made me breathe a small sigh of relief. I made my way up to the second floor and curled up on a couch to read Pride and Prejudice. About an hour passed, and I stepped out of the world of Elizabeth Bennett long enough to realize I was hungry and wanted a snack. The vending machine on that floor was never all that good, so I went back downstairs to the intimidating row of glass machines offering anything and everything a junk food addict could want. This row was not for the faint of heart, and definitely not for the indecisive. As I qualify for the latter category, it took me a minute to decide what I wanted. I was making my selection when Jeremy ambled up to me. “You changed,” he said with a question in his voice. I told him I had, that gym shorts were not my favorite. He asked me how I liked tennis, and I told him that it was fun but that my skill is still sorely lacking. After a second of awkward silence, I said, “Jeremy, right?” I reached out for his hand and introduced myself, knowing that he didn’t remember the last time I had done this. With a huge smile, he gave me his hand in return and told me he was very glad to meet me. My car had been taken to the shop earlier that morning, so I’d been planning on returning to my couch to read some more until my ride came, but Jeremy asked me what I was doing so I told him I was going to one of the tables by the door and he followed me.

As we sat we talked about nothing in particular. Jeremy asked me if I worked and where; said he would have to come visit me at the restaurant, and told me he’d been working at Old Navy for the past seven years. He’d also recently started working at the hospital, which piqued my interest so I asked him what he did there. I nodded yes when he asked if I knew what prosthetics were, and he told me that he does physical therapy with patients who have new prosthetic appendages. When he found out that we both serve on the media teams at our churches, I could see the excitement in his face as he gave me a high-five and asked how long I had been saved. When it was his turn to talk again, he expressed his joy at being a Christian and knowing his purpose. He had discovered his purpose years ago, he said, one day while crying out to God. God had told him that his purpose was to talk to everyone he came across and try to encourage them. He said that he knew that God used him to impact the lives of people around him, and that even if he ever only impacted one person, he had done what God asked of him.

...To be continued...

Am I allowed to be honest?

How honest am I really allowed to be online? I feel abandoned. On June fourteenth, I went to the ER for chest pains and palpitations. The following weeks and months have been my own personal hell filled with...silence. I have been exhausted, in pain, and unable to drive and live as I used to. I have received a couple emails from my homegroupies; phone calls from Andy every couple of weeks; Amber, Amanda, Drew, Darrell, and Dominic have called me once or twice each to see how I'm doing; a handful of people (most of them distant friends) have written me on facebook or myspace; Mandy and Josh (in the short time that I have known him) have been indescribably encouraging in emails; Danny has offered to meet me half-way to hang out and Kevin (whom I met a only month ago) has offered to come all the way out to me to take me to civilization. Jason has come to see me several times (which has meant the world over to me) and I have heard of Andy, Amber and Mike actually asking others to pray with them for my health - for this I am the most grateful.

Time. My love language is time. Whether it's a simple note when I log online, a five minute phone call or (the absolute best) getting to actually hang out, it's how I give and receive love. I have heard so many wonderful stories of community at the Village. Time and again I have heard how much it has meant to those in need to have friends to support them through their rough times. I have always done my very best to be there for anyone and everyone - whether they were going through a good time or bad. Distance is no matter for me, as I've always had to drive ridiculous miles just to go to work or the grocery store. Not for the sake of having a favor returned, but because I care that much for everyone I have the privilege of meeting - it's how God wired me. Time is such a simple such and ridiculous concept. We place so much value on it and yet not enough.
And yet when I have a time of need...I'm alone. Unless I can come to them, my friends have seemingly forgotten me. The funny part is, when I actually try to call the people who have told me countless times that I can call them to talk when I need to, I usually get a voicemail or a promise for a return call - which may or may not actually happen. Matt constantly preaches the need to actually make an effort to create community. It will not happen on its own. I think I can say with all honesty that I have done everything within my power to do this. I have been open, I have been vulnerable, I have stepped out of my comfort zone - and to what avail? This isn't me throwing a pity party, this isn't even me getting angry. I write this with many tears to try to simply work out my frustration. There have been countless tear-filled nights in the last three months as I have fought off the anxiety and fear that have come with an unknown health issue and the pain and desperation that accompanies having only my immediate family to go through this with me. My goal in writing this is not to guilt anyone into communicating with me. I don't want false sympathy or pity. I want -- I want honesty. I want to have a homegroup that is actually close to me again. I want to live next door to all of my friends. I want to have my health problems resolved. I want to hit the next person who sends me some Bible verse but doesn't actually seem to care about me. I want people to stop telling me to pray and start praying for me.

We're hoping that my doctor may be on the right track to correcting my phsyical heart issues. Not all of the pain my heart is feeling can be corrected with medication though. Maybe I'm in the wrong for writing this. Maybe I'll delete this again before it's ever seen by anyone else. But I don't think it's wrong for me to be upset by this. I'm not angry; I'm deeply wounded. And I don't know what to do.

Tales Of A Twenty-Something Klutz: I Need A Stunt Double

Oh yes, it's time for another installment of the Tales Of A Twenty-Something Klutz! (See past notes/blogs for other tales/amusement.)

Yesterday found me at UNT helping my dear friend Kourtney with a filming project. The weather was quite nice, sunny and only mildly blistering. Kourtney had to shoot a three-minute film that could explain itself without dialogue. I was there as an extra. The first shot at the front of the Bus/Admin building took only five minutes and we moved to the south side. Glen and Sarah were stationed on a picnic blanket (look disgustingly cute) and Paul, Nathan and I were told to stand on a spot of grass playing frisbee. It must have been terribly amusing to watch us chase the frisbee around. And then it happened.
We were in the throws of a vicious game of frisbee, and I had finally understood my character's depth and complexity. The frisbee was tossed to me, and of course I tried and failed to catch it as it fell to the ground. Now, the rules of etiquette dictate that when a lady must retrieve an object from the ground, one must bend at the knees to prevent the derriere from being thrust most ungracefully into the air. Any real lady knows this. I attempted to make such a maneuver, but something went awry. I think I twisted somehow and mid-frisbee-retrieval, something in the back of my left leg seized up. I thought it to be just a cramp at first, and stood back up to even more pain. After several minutes had passed with no relief, I realized the horrible truth of what I had done and did my best to get back into the "zone" and act like I was not in pain for the remainder of the film. It was an Oscar-winning performance, and I shall not be at all surprised to see my name nominated this year.

I don't know why I can't get any of the good injuries! Just once, I'd like to hurt myself saving a child from a burning building. Heck, I'd even settle for saving a goldfish! But no. I pull a hamstring picking up a frisbee.