The Gift of Pain “You’re no stranger to pain.” I looked at him, taking in his observation. Like it or not, he was right. Pain and I have become well acquainted. 

If I were honest with myself, I would admit that I have experienced inconsistent low-level back pain for about a decade. It’s usually a dull ache that comes and goes. “It’s probably just from your CP,” I was told once by a physical therapist. Research confirms this suspicion. One study compared adults with CP to those without and found that nearly one-third of the adults with cerebral palsy had chronic pain, vs. 15% in the general population. Back pain was the most common in both groups.

Lately, my pain has transformed from a dull ache to at times a stabbing pinch and travels down my leg. MRI scans revealed that I have Spondylolisthesis and Degenerative Disc Disease. Medical terminology aside, I’ve been experiencing a little more pain than normal. 

Philip Yancey, in his book Where is God When it Hurts says the following: “Suffering produces something. It has value. It changes us.”

Pain, I am learning, is a gift. Marcel Proust is quoted as saying, “Illness is the doctor to whom we pay the most heed: to kindness, to knowledge we make promises only: pain we obey.” Not something to be ignored, pain can be the compass that ultimately points us in the direction of help and healing.

Pain has helped me gain perspective, causing me to become more grateful for many things: over-the-counter pain killers, access to health care, health insurance, compassionate physicians who have devoted their professional careers to caring for the back, and having a physical therapy clinic next to my work.   

Pain has helped me become more diligent with stretching. I’m not usually very dedicated to it; it takes time and is a slow process. I know it’s an important daily task, but often falls into the pile of, “Things I should have done today.” This incident has caused me to remember its importance. I’m sure it will pay off in the long run.

What has suffering produced in your life? 

How have you responded to your pain?

Last night I was forwarded some information about a breaking news story. A 10 year old boy with autism was being bullied in his classroom by his teachers. You can read the story or watch the video here: http://www.myfoxphilly.com/dpp/news/local_news/nj-father-records-teachers-bullying-his-autistic-child. In response, the boy’s father, Stuart Chaifetz, made a YouTube video (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tfkscHt96R0) expressing his opinions, calling for a public apology, and hoping this incident will start a wide-spread conversation about bullying. His video already has over 3 million views; his Facebook page (https://www.facebook.com/NoMoreTeacherBullies) has over 35,000 “likes.”

Mr. Chaifetz, I am sorry as a public educator and as a person with a disability that your son was treated like this in a classroom. As I thought about your story today, I am reminded of what I am called to do as a teacher. Here are my professional and personal priorities, in this order:

1.I am called to love my students. Bell Hooks, contributor to the book The Heart of Learning: Spirituality in Education writes, “So think first about how you can love your students. Do this even before you think about how you’re going to teach them. Think: How can I love these [students]…that I see in the classroom? What practice of compassion can I bring to the moment that is so fine-tuned that I can accomplish in one day that which might ordinarily take weeks, months or years to do?” (p. 125, 1999).

2.I am called to see my students. Sometimes students feel neglected and excluded from their peers and the social community that exists within the school environment. As teachers, I believe we are obligated to see our students, perceive their needs, and assure them that they are valuable, precious members of the human race. Everyone has a voice that deserves to be heard.

3. I am called to teach my students. Tax payers give sacrificially to support the local school system. I must teach the children in my community to the best of my ability—not just because I am paid to do it, but also because I am strongly convicted of the value of investing my life fully into the next generation. If we want to raise children to become compassionate and competent, we must model this behavior ourselves.

Resources Glazer, S. (Ed). (1999). The heart of learning: Spirituality in education. New York, NY: Penguin Putnam Inc.

My friend looked at me and said,

“Jenny, we’re going downtown this weekend. I’ll drive, but since you’re coming with us, I was wondering if you could bring your….

[insert awkward pause and silence]…” “Rock Star permit?” I offer.

Exhale. Sigh of relief. “Yes!” She smiled. “Your Rock Star parking permit!”

Recently I had a friend text me this picture: http://www.flickr.com/photos/torley/1388881550/.I posted it on Facebook on Sunday with the caption, “To be honest, this is how I wish the accessible parking spaces were actually labeled!,” and quickly received over 20 “likes.” 

Thanks peeps. I often feel weird about the fact that I own and use a Handicapped Parking Permit. It gets especially awkward when I’m attending an event for young adults or kids—the blue and white zone is usually empty and my beautiful Honda Civic sits there all alone. I feel like EVERYONE knows I’ve arrived and where I’ve parked. I’ve definitely gotten stares while parking at grocery stores. I think people are expecting to see a little old lady, but instead see a smiling young woman. What’s up with that? 

Here’s the deal… The main reason that I have a Rock Star parking permit is that I fall often. This is primarily a concern in the winter, but I even fell yesterday walking on familiar territory. Walking shorter distances can reduce the chances that I’ll have an incident.

The other compounding issue is that I tend to fall more frequently when my arms are full. Parking close to the door allows me to easily bring a cart close to my trunk to load or unload items. It’s much easier to do this at work and around town if my car is in the front row. 

You might not notice, but my depth perception is slightly skewed due to my cerebral palsy. Parking has always been a bit of a challenge for me, but is a skill where I have seen some improvement. When I first began driving, I used to take up multiple parking spots because I had a hard time aligning my vehicle in the allotted space. Rock Star parking spaces tend to be much wider and have an access isle. It’s a sweet feature.

Finally, I lose track of things and I get lost easily. Sure, I can’t find my keys, misplace my cell phone, and have made a few wrong turns, but I also lose track of big things too. While walking one afternoon in my neighborhood where I have lived for four years, I wasn’t certain what side of the road my house was on, or how exactly I could get home. I got lost this year in my one-level elementary school where I have worked every day since 2008. I can’t find my car in a parking lot unless I think REALLY HARD about where it is located. Parking in a designated area puts my mind at ease. In the end, I have found having a Rock Star parking permit has made my life a little easier and surely has prevented injuries. 

But, in truth, I wouldn’t park there if I didn’t have a need. I’d rather blend in. Then again, that’s another reason why it should be called “Rock Star parking.” They’re especially reserved spots for those who are willing to stand out and make their mark on the world.

I recently had the opportunity to have an in-depth conversation with a friend of mine who also lives with a disability. As we were talking, I realized something very unique was taking place…we actually could relate to one another’s experiences. I found it refreshing, nourishing even to find someone else who could really understand on a personal level what it is like to struggle with a physical disability. Then I began to wonder: Why was this experience so rare? On the reverse, why is so challenging to articulate my experiences to people who have able bodies in a way that resonates?

Living with a disability is not a largely shared experience. According to the U.S. Census Bureau, just over 18% of Americans report having a disability. Only about 2% of the populations of those who have disabilities fall into my age range of 25-44. (No wonder it’s hard to find someone to talk to!) You can read the full report here: http://www.census.gov/prod/2008pubs/p70-117.pdf. 

Living with a disability often affects people in profound ways that are evolving and difficult to describe. I find that I often have to spend hours in deep thought over my life’s experiences before I can come up with a simile or a metaphor that effectively communicates my thoughts, feelings, and experiences of living with cerebral palsy. Part of the challenge, I believe, is that having a disability can affect multiple areas of your life, be deeply personal, and continually evolving—even if your symptoms remain unchanged. As a child, I was mainly concerned with fitting in with my friends, managing fatigue, and learning how to drive. I struggled with my self-esteem and was looking for my niche in the world. As a young woman, I have many friends and a driver’s license  I am finding an increasing sense of identity in my profession. I still struggle with my self-esteem from time to time (Let’s be honest, who doesn’t?), but I find myself wondering more about the possibilities and challenges of marriage and family. I imagine my focus will shift again as I age.

So much of the struggle of living with a physical disability is internal. As I was talking with my friend, it struck me that perhaps the biggest challenges we will face in life will not be physical—they will be emotional and spiritual. It’s not so much about struggling to walk up and down stairs, needing to ask for help to accomplished everyday tasks, or facing disappointing physical limitations as much as it is the person you become in the midst of the challenges you face. These trials can produce in people qualities that are not always easily seen: shame, anger, discouragement, humility, courage, perseverance, hope.

Questions to Consider:

For those of you who have able bodies: What do you find most challenging to understand about the experience of living with a disability?

For those of you who live with a disability: What do you find the most challenging about relating to others about your experiences?

For everyone: How can we bridge the gap?

“So, you have two children, right?” I asked with interest. “We have two children now.” He paused, looking down at the floor. “We had three children. My wife had some troubles during her first pregnancy. Our daughter didn’t live past six months. She would have been a senior in high school this year.” Our conversation stopped for a moment. We both took a breath to honor the mystery and beauty of life. 

Today, March 26th, is my 28th birthday. It seems like every year, I find myself pondering the details of my birth, thinking about how 3/26 was not supposed to be the day I was to be born. Although I love having something fun to celebrate as winter turns into spring, I find myself thinking about how I should have been born in the summer. I think about how I was born premature, weighing 3lbs, 2 oz at 29 weeks.

This year, I’ve spent some time interviewing my parents, learning more about the story of my birth. I’ve also been reading about premature babies. I learned that, “In the 1980s, doctors could save only 1 in 10 [preemies]; today, that number is 9 in 10.” When I let the reality of those numbers sink in, I had to stop for a moment and reflect.

Sometimes I take my life for granted.

Life, I began to realize, is the greatest gift I have ever been given and I am so grateful for it! I know sometimes that life can be discouraging and full of struggle, and while that is hard, I believe there is beauty to be found in the midst of pain if we’ll look for it, and wonderful lessons to be learned as we endure the trials of life.

Will you join with me today to celebrate life? Please consider taking a few moments to do the following:

1. Take a few minutes to think about your life and all that you have to be thankful for.

2. Consider some of the challenges you are facing right now in your life. What are you learning from your circumstances? Where are you challenged to see beauty in the midst of pain?                                                                                                       

3. Hug, kiss, call or e-mail someone close to you today and tell them how much they are loved and how glad you are to have them in your life.

Source: http://www.bostonglobe.com/magazine/2011/10/08/the-test-ahead/89zgadwU7F5ckhFxu7JOdN/story.html

I surveyed the stairs that were leading to my friend’s door. They were covered with ice and had no railing. I began to wonder, how am I going to make it into their house? While looking around for an answer, two gentlemen come around the corner from the garage to rescue me from my predicament. One says, “Jenny, let me help you up the stairs.” The other says, “I’ll get the door.” 

“Your arm, Miss,” my friend extends his elbow for me to grasp as we head up the stairs. I look at him and smile, “It’s like we’re at the prom! ‘Jenny Hill escorted by…’” Suddenly, in that moment, I am transformed from a casual visitor to an honored guest.

Pleasantly surprised by this incident, feeling so honored by the kindness of my friends, I began to wonder: how can we show honor to people with disabilities? I am sure there are several ways, but here are three that come to mind:

1. We can honor people with our language. In college, I learned about using person-first language. It’s a simple rearranging of our sentences helping us to see and honor people as human beings ahead of their disabilities. For example, instead of saying, the blind girl, or the deaf boy, say the girl who is blind or the boy who is deaf. I also recommend the use of the word disability and accessible in lieu of the word handicapped. There’s a widely held misconception that the word handicapped actually means cap-in-hand, referring to the need for those with disabilities to beg for money. The word handicapped actually speaks to leveling the playing field in sporting events so everyone has an equal advantage to compete. Unfortunately, this word’s history is not widely known. 

(Read more here: http://www.snopes.com/language/offense/handicap.asp)

2. We can honor people with our priorities. I think it is so important to get to know people for who they are as individuals, and then out of that relationship, learn how to meet their needs. I feel loved and honored when family and friends attend to small details for me without being asked because they have known me long enough to know my needs. I see this in many ways: when a seat is waiting at the door for me to sit in while I take off my shoes, when colleagues walk in quietly to the media center so I don’t startle while sitting at my desk, when friends offer to carry my food for me while walking down stairs or outside at a social gathering because they know I can’t balance everything, and when people offer to drive when going to the Cities because they know I’m uncomfortable with the traffic.

3. We can honor people with our attention. The issues surrounding disabilities can be challenging to understand and difficult to discuss. However, I think we can all learn so much from taking the time to hear other people’s stories. Stories provide a window into the world of disability for those who are able-bodied and a mirror for those who have a disability from which they can see themselves. This is why I believe they have the unique power to offer both insight and hope. Want to read a great story? Here’s one about a family who has three children with cerebral palsy. They are one of 18 families in the world to be in their unique situation, but I don’t want to give away all the details…read the full story here:

http://www.thedoor.org/resources/documents/MarAprMay_2012_at_the_door.pdf. Resources Windows and Mirrors: http://dsq-sds.org/article/view/854/1029 Picture Source: http://www.thisweeklive.com/2011/05/16/lakeville-north-2011-prom-grand-march/

“What do I like to read?” My friend looked at me, repeating the question I had just posed to him and then looked away to think for a moment. “I don’t think I’ve read an entire novel since the ‘90s…”

It’s no secret—I love to read! With February tagged as I Love to Read Month, I’ve been considering the reason why I’ve been drawn to books ever since I sounded out all the words in Jan and Stan Berenstain’s Ready, Get Set, Go! I think the answer lies in the fact that books have always given me hope.

As a child… My parents needed to find a way to explain the hospital environment to me so that I could prepare for the experience of undergoing major surgery. One afternoon, while spinning the wire rack at the local drug store, I came upon a book entitled A Visit to Sesame Street Hospital where Grover needs a tonsillectomy. I learned from the illustrations that I too would soon be encountering friendly adults wearing masks and gowns and eating food off of tray tables. While different from life at home, I had nothing to fear! As memory serves, I entered the operating room with a smile on my face!

In fourth and fifth grade… My self-esteem began to plummet as I struggled to make friends at school. One evening my dad came home with an article published in Newsweek written by a sophomore at Wayzata High School named Angie Erickson. Her twin sister Stephanie was born with no birth defects, but Angie has cerebral palsy. Angie spoke to the tenacity, resiliency, and determination it was taking to endure people’s comments, actions, and exclusion towards me because of my disability. Then she posed an interesting thought: perhaps those who are acting this way are hurting more than I am….

In middle school… A courageous woman named Gianna Jessen was interviewed on Focus on the Family telling her story of her mother who chose to have an abortion at age 17. When the saline injection she was given forced her into labor, Gianna was born alive and, as a result, lives with cerebral palsy. The book sat by my bedside and I read it over and over again, intrigued to hear the story of another girl with CP, fascinated with the fact that she knew exactly why she had a disability, because the exact cause of CP, for so many people, is unknown.

Shortly after the Columbine High School Shootings… I sat at my own high school, reading Frank Peretti’s Wounded Spirit. This book was written partly in response to this tragedy, but also to share Peretti’s own story of pain and healing growing up with a highly visible condition called cystic hygroma. At the end of the book, Peretti makes an audacious claim: Adulthood may actually bring some relief to the awkwardness of being a teenager. I held on to the hope that there was life after Physical Education class, I wasn’t going to be swimming in a pond where I was being constantly compared to the physical abilities of others forever!

Towards the end of graduate school…. I wrestled with the reality that I was going to have cerebral palsy for the rest of my life, and wondered what its implications were going to look like as I began to journey into adulthood. While reading the book Waking, I felt as if it’s author, Mathew Sanford, (fellow Minnesotan and quadriplegic) pulled up a chair and began to mentor me on healthy living as an adult with a disability. I learned that I didn’t have to feel pressure to see my disability as something that needed to be conquered or overcome, but rather a reality that can simply be accepted. With every step I take my body is working as hard as it can, even in the midst of challenge, to move exactly as it was designed. This unique grace is in itself, beautiful.

Today… I am working on my own manuscript, telling of my with cerebral palsy. Someday I hope my story can offer hope to someone else the way so many others have already done for me. Why do you love to read? What books have you read which have offered you hope? Have you ever read a book where the characters helped you understand your life from a clearer perspective? Has your own reading journey ever compelled you to write?

A few weeks ago while out on a walk, my precious 4-year-old niece, Tizi, looked up to me with her smiling brown eyes and asked, “Who’s your husband?”

“I don’t have a husband honey.” I answer. Needing more information to understand my response she continues,“Then who do you have at your house to love you?”

“I don’t have anyone at my house.”

Perplexed, Tizi turned around in her stroller, faced forward, and we continued on our walk.

With Valentine’s Day this month, I’ve began to wonder: what effect does having CP have on marriage and dating? I did some digging, and I can’t say that I loved the results. 

Consider the following statistics:

• Research has consistently shown that adolescents and young adults with CP date later in life than their peers and have fewer social relationships. 

• An analysis of six different studies found that 10-15% of adults with CP were married with the mean average marriage rate falling around 12%.

• Marriages are also affected by those who parent children with disabilities. One psychologist noted that many studies do point out higher divorce rates; for families with children with autism, there have been rates quoted as high as 85-90 percent.

The implications of these statistics can be discouraging. I can’t predict the future, but I do sense, by reading these stats and by knowing myself that I am probably going to experience a period of sustained singleness. 

If this is true, then here are three things that I wish people would understand about singleness:

1. Sometimes my adult responsibilities are going to look different than my married peers.  I get a little frustrated when people say to me, “You don’t have any responsibilities because you don’t have a husband or children. You can take on... (fill in the blank: an extra committee, project, volunteer opportunity etc).” I’m starting to learn that instead of being hurt by these comments, I should take time to listen harder to those speaking to me, realizing that I don’t fully understand the commitment and sacrifice it takes to raise a family, and perhaps don’t always appreciate the freedom I have in my life right now to accomplish some of my goals. On the flip-side, I wish others would understand that I feel a strong sense of accountability having large amounts of unchoreographed time, and with this freedom comes responsibility. It’s allowed me to take on tasks such as drafting a manuscript for a book, pursuing my dream of obtaining a doctorate degree, working full-time, loving my nieces and nephew, and owning my own home.

2. Sometimes being single is glorious, and sometimes it is lonely. Like I’ve often heard about marriage, being single is both hard AND great! At times the quietness of my house greets me like a friend, offering rest at the end of a draining day. Other times, I experience the stillness of my house like someone who is giving me the cold shoulder. This can be hard to embrace, but I’ve found that being alone sometimes makes the interactions I have with others richer and deeper. I savor it. 

A few weeks ago I came home feeling a little under the weather, wishing that someone was around to offer comfort, but 4:30PM is the wrong time to bother people as they transition from work to home. However, a few moments later I checked my voicemail to discover that a friend had called on her way to home to see how I was doing. We ended up talking for a delightful half hour. I felt remembered and she got a chance to vent about work-related stressors before picking up her son from daycare. It was just the TLC we both needed!

3. Finally, and most importantly to me, I need consistent, appropriate, non-sexual physical touch from family and friends.  I know we all receive and give love differently, but touch is my tip-top love language. Even though I may have the opportunity to be around many people throughout the course of a day, it’s easy to go without being touched in healthy ways: a pat on the shoulder, a touch on the arm, a hug. I’m trying to get better about communicating this need to my family, and I find that my friends who know me best offer a hug voluntarily. This is particularly important to me because, as one blogger said, “Some researchers have described the need for touch as "skin hunger," suggesting the desire and need for touch is an actual craving, much like hunger for nutrients and water, exist in our physiology.” I’ve experienced this hunger and also the relief that comes when someone holds me in their embrace.

Singleness is a mystery that I have been asked to hold. The question of “Will I ever get married?” is one I will continue to frequently ponder, but like Tizi, I want to intentionally face forward and continue on my walk.

This Valentine’s Day, whether single or married, I hope you can realize that the single most important thing a human being can know is how much they are truly loved. Show love for someone today! Happy Valentine’s Day!

If you’re married.... What do you wish single people understood about marriage?

If you’re single.... Are you content in your singleness, or do you long for marriage? How do you meet your needs for human interaction?

If you’re human..... How do you feel about giving and receiving touch to others?

It’s January 29th. 1/12 of 2012 is already almost over. How are you doing on accomplishing your New Year’s resolutions? I didn’t officially make New Year’s resolutions, but if I had, they might look like this:

1. Exercise consistently

2. Keep my house clean

3. Stretch my leg muscles

Those are quite idealistic. To be honest, resolutions that I may actually accomplish by 2013 look more like this:

1. Gain five more pounds by the end of this winter

2. Invite friends over at least once a month so that my carpet gets vacuumed

3. Stretching...what’s that?

I’m supposed to stretch my hamstrings and heel cords on a daily basis to maintain flexibility. But, I’m negligent. If I’m lucky, this gets accomplished once a week. I think I ignore this all important task because it’s boring, time consuming, and forces me to come face to face with my limitations. Something I hate. You would think I would have learned my lesson after an incident I had a few years ago. Our family went on vacation to Washington D.C. where we walked all day exploring our nation’s capital. By the time dinner rolled around, I was depleted but chose to ignore my fatigue. Our family had decided that the evening would be the best time to visit the monuments because they light up at night. I had determined that nothing was going to stop me from going along.

I should have stayed in the hotel and rested.

About the time I was staring into the face of a Korean solider, I began to notice pain in my left leg. Every succeeding step suddenly felt wrong. I adjusted my gait, complained, and wondered what was going on....I eventually learned I had pulled a muscle!

The treatment...you guessed it! Stretching. The physical therapist made me stretch every muscle in both of my legs for weeks. The reality of my limitations became amplified. But, after those few weeks, something amazing happened: Not only did I recover from my injury, but the consistent stretching loosened my muscles. I was able to accomplish daily tasks with incredible ease. I zipped up and down stairs with speed, slid in and out of my car, and enjoyed the feeling of relaxation in my legs. Leaning into the fullness of my limitations turned out to be the vehicle that ultimately created the expansion of my abilities. It gave me freedom!

I am finding the same principle is true in life. If there is one human limitation about me that I cannot stand it is not my tightened hamstrings...it’s my limited capacity to love. I wish I had the emotional capacity to deeply care about every human being I come in contact with, rejoicing in their excitements, weeping at their disappointments, infinitely curious to learn the details of their life, but I can’t. I also wish I could say “yes” to every opportunity that presented itself in my life. However, the human condition does not allow this amount of investment. Last year I thought I could ignore my human limitations and expand my capacity to love by interacting with a greater number of people and take on a greater number of commitments. Surely that would expand my ability to love more!

Nope.

I remember ending many weeks last year feeling angry and empty. Out of my desire to love and say yes to the all the opportunities that lay before me, I had given myself and stretched myself too far in too many directions both personally and professionally. I began to wonder, “Why can't I love all the people that I interact with in a day? Why do I always feel so empty, like I have nothing left?” I began to slow down and discern what to say yes to and what to say no to; I had to let go of many things, some with a sigh of relief and some with tears. I began to focus deeply on just a few things that I really felt called to do. Then something amazing happened: my capacity to love others expanded as I decreased and focused on fewer activities! I find myself noticing people this year, remembering their names, slowing down to be present with people as they talk and share their needs. I feel as if I have something in me with which I can share with others. I have expanded in love through contracting in commitments. I am learning that it is so important to discern what I say yes and no to and the importance of resisting the temptation to compare myself to others as I faithfully complete the work I have been uniquely given to complete.

What do you need to say no to in 2012?

Frustrated by Fatigue I have always been a huge fan of DC Comic’s classic character The Flash. Ever since middle school when I was given the nickname Flash, my fascination was piqued by the Scarlet Speedster. He’s fast, wears a stellar costume, and has to be smart: hey, he’s one of the few members of the Justice League of America who has figured out that underwear are supposed to go underneath spandex pants! 

I was delighted when CBS’ hit show The Big Bang Theory made Flash popular again. One of its lead characters, Sheldon Cooper, shares a mutual affection with me for this speedy superhero. I found a flash costume in college and still wear it from time to time for Halloween parties or when promoting a book fair, but underneath the lightning bolts, mask, and red stretchy material lays a woman who wishes she had the boundless energy of her favorite superhero, but in reality, she struggles with fatigue.

This week I put in a rather long day at work, as many of us do, and proceeded to come home and continue working: dinner, laundry, exercise, homework…I finally laid my head on the pillow feeling GREAT for all I had accomplished….until I woke up the next morning, exhausted! (I know the description of my day sounds very typical, and it is, which makes this situation all the more frustrating! I want to ignore with every fiber of my being the estimation that it takes 3-5 times more energy for me to move than my peers, that the internet is littered with stories of young adults with cerebral palsy, also in their mid 20s who are struggling with fatigue, and that I too have occasional days where I’d rather not get off the couch or out of bed.)

I made it through the following day alright, but near the end, a colleague looked at me and said, “Hill, we must have tired you out! You’re moving half as fast as you normally do.” I looked at him, knew he was right; I was moving slow, too slow. When I got home, I climbed into bed, and on the verge of frustrated tears, took a much needed nap at 5PM in the afternoon. I felt so defeated and angry by this act of lying down, like fatigue had won today even though deep inside of me beat a passionate heart that had hopes of getting more tasks accomplished at home. When I woke up,

I was still discouraged with myself, frustrated by my fatigue, and filled with heated questions:

1. Why can’t I do more with my body, life, time, and energy?

2. Why do I have to battle with fatigue, I’m only in my 20s!

3. Why can’t I hide my limitations from my peers? Must I be so transparent? 4. Why can’t I be a superhero? I’m still wrestling with these questions, and if you have any insight on the answer to number

4, I’m all ears! In the interim, I’ve begun to consider that maybe saying “yes” to rest and welcoming the need to nap on occasion is the way in which I can actually accomplish more. 

Perhaps by delaying my desires for productivity one night may in turn give me the stamina I need to accomplish more the following evening. Perhaps I don’t need to see fatigue as a sign of defeat, but rather as a pathway to restoration. Do you struggle fatigue from time to time or frustration with your own limitations? Do you welcome or resist the need for rest in your life? What is one thing you could do this week to slow down or delay your own gratification in order to accomplish more in the future? References Picture Source: http://www.writeups.org/fiche.php?id=4699 CP and Fatigue: http://www.cerebralpalsytherapy.net/cerebral-palsy-and-fatigue.html

Are you ready for some football? “Jenny, do you know who Adrian Peterson is?” My colleague asks me while sitting in the teacher’s lounge. “Hmm…” I ponder, “He plays for the Vikings right?” These types of exchanges are common in my daily life because in my world there are no sports. I doubt I could identify a picture of Brett Favre if you showed one to me. Perhaps it is because I could never participate in athletics I have never learned or paid attention to the rules of football. When people start to discuss the game I feel completely shut out of the conversation; they may as well be speaking in another language about something I have never seen before. I have no idea what people are taking about or why they are so enthusiastically fixated on this game of brutal attack. All of this makes me wonder: why do people like watching football? In the hours of broadcast footage that leads up to, includes the Super Bowl, and its post game analysis, there is only an estimated 11 minutes of action taking place on the field. For the uneducated viewer, this can seem like a waste of time. Sure, there has to be skill involved. Moving a football stealthily down a field reminds me a bit of playing chess, each player carefully executing his role, but when players tackle each other and dance in the end zone, I wonder if the fascination with the sport is vicarious in nature. Perhaps the people watching wish they were out on the field, demonstrating their own strength and brutality? Aware of my ignorance, and in search of answers to my burning questions, I made it a goal this year to learn about the game of football by the Super Bowl…except so far I have “fumbled” in my efforts. Let me give you a quick “run down” of my “game plan.” 1. I asked a friend who coaches to send me a YouTube video explaining football. He kindly sent a video entitled, “Helping Women Understand Football - Tammy Burgess & Jim Harkema”. Perhaps my lack of understanding is gender-related, but I found this video to be confusing. I got lost at the coin toss—I’m not kidding! What in the world does deferment mean? 2. So, somewhere between turkey and pumpkin pie, my uncle Mike, a high school football coach, explained this concept of deferment to me during the course of Thanksgiving dinner. He also used his knife and fork to explain the process of scoring. I somewhat understand how this works, but… 3. The following weekend I was invited to a friend’s house for lunch and an afternoon of watching the Vikings. I realized then and there that not only don’t I understand football; I don’t have the motivation or drive to grasp the rules of the rules of game. I simply have no prior knowledge to which I can attach new information, because there are only three things I know about football, all of which I have learned from reading books; perhaps I can teach you a thing or two: a. The term “blitz” is named after the German style of “lightening war” called Blitzkrieg used in WWII. b. The huddle was first used at Gallaudet University so the students who were deaf and hard of hearing could conceal their signs they made to each other while planning their next play. c. Eli and Peyton Manning have authored a children’s book called Family Huddle. So will I be in front of a TV on February 5, 2012? Absolutely! I may not understand or appreciate the game, but the food is always delectable, (the first time I had ever had homemade pizza cooked on a stone was at a Super Bowl party; I now own two of them), the half-time shows are epic (I was first introduced to Michael Jackson in 1993 when he performed at half-time. I asked my brother if it was Sandi Patty singing because I had no idea who it was and I was a third-grader. LOL! I am now a hard-core fan and even dressed like him for Halloween), and it’s the commercials that everyone really seems to love (My favorite one from last year is below). In the end, with the season I hear the Vikings are having, perhaps ignorance is truly bliss. Darth Vader Commercial: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R55e-uHQna0