Saint Paul Wasn't the Only One Struck Off a Horse

Saint Paul wasn't the only one struck off a horse! Yes, I too was thrown from a horse this weekend, maybe I should have made it clearer to God that I was already willing to follow! I was in no need of any enlightening and certainly was not looking for any epiphany!

Okay, theological joking aside, God didn't strike me off my horse, it was just a freak accident. But once again God is using my misfortune to teach me something about Christian living. I am totally with Peter, "No Lord, you will not wash my feet!" Asking for things has never been an easy experience for me, but now I find myself, on crutches with a new nickname compliments of Joan--Hippity Hoppity.

While crutches make it possible to use a bum leg, they in turn take away the ability to use your hands. If it can't fit in the woven bag swung across my shoulder or between my teeth than I cannot carry it. Crutches are a new experience for me, and one I hope to never have again.

In 2003 I was in a bad car accident, my campus minister at the time recently reflected on my experience in the context of Lent in an article she wrote for Liguorian Magazine entitled, "Embrace the Lent You Get." She speaks of our Lenten plan making and being open to the workings of God in our lives. She suggests that the "more seriously we take Lent, the more likely our plans are to be overturned by the unexpected."

I find myself returning in thought to 2003 and my recovery from that accident. Thankfully this recent accident is nothing compared to the experience I had then, but it is similar in my having to ask for help--something we all learn sooner or later--something I thought I "learned" but I'm realizing have forgotten. As soon as my mobility returns it becomes easy to let go of needing others, but this is what community teaches me. There is always a place where we need to rely on one another, whether physically, emotionally, or even spiritually. This is true community.

Hobbling from the kitchen to my bedroom this morning with an egg sandwich in a plastic bag held between my teeth I reflected on how difficult this experience would be without my sisters. They have been most generous with their time and care for me! But beyond the helping hands they are firm in their words when they insist I take it easy and allow my body time to heal. I start to feel lazy just laying around all day, I have always pushed myself to the limits, heal faster, get moving faster, everything faster . . . but they are helping me to slow down, to be patient with this process, and to allow time for healing.

So as Christine, my former campus minister suggests, I'm working on embracing the lent I get--Along with mastering the art of carrying things in my teeth of course!