My students are incredible. I sat listening to a student describe trips to her home country akin to the plot of an action movie over cups of Dominican coffee gifted by another student. These students come with amazing stories, and I consider it a privilege to hear pieces of them. This afternoon, I realized it’s quite an equal joy to share a bit of my own with them.
Earlier today, I was debating whether or not to attempt a grocery trip with my braces and walker or to keep my braces off and take a much shorter walk with just my awesome Nikes. I stood up in the tennis shoes to test out how my ankles were feeling, and I boldly walked out my door with my sticks before my courage dissipated. I knew I mightn’t be safe enough on my own to make the whole lap around the firehouse, so instead, I decided on walking to and from the lamppost by the retirement home (a whopping 150 meters round trip).
Each step was slow and deliberate as I thought about the work I’d done with Anja yesterday. We spent a good chunk of my therapy hour with me bearing weight on my bare feet. Anja even had me walk on a thin foam mat after several steps on the hardwood floor. As a final challenge, she’d put a thicker cushion in front of me and had me step over it, encouraging me that she was right there if anything happened with my testy ankles. She pushed me to my limit, and I was a little disappointed when she asked me to find my balance and take a step towards her all on my own but I couldn’t. Anja assured me that just because I couldn’t do it at therapy this week didn’t mean I couldn’t do it. So Friday wasn’t my best day. I was feeling good this so far sunny Saturday. I wasn’t winning any speed records, but I was breaking new ground in my brace free weight bearing walking quality. About halfway to my goal, a BFA senior approached from the direction of the soccer field.
“Are you going to the soccer games?” she asked.
“Oh, not remotely that far. I’m hoping to make it to the lamppost and back.”
“Can I walk with you?”
“Sure, but I’m really slow.”
“I’ve got time,” she turned around and matched my pace as I focused on where my feet went. This particular student is planning to pursue a degree in the medical field, and we chatted a little about the feats I’d managed over the past few years. When we turned around at the lamppost, our conversation turned to how much I enjoyed teaching at BFA and someday hoped to teach her little sister. As we approached my door, she asked if I’d ever thought about returning to the states after my accident.
“The thought never entered my mind. I was exactly where I was supposed to be, and I still feel like I am.”
Where I am right now is encouraging conversation among students who want to know why Leviticus is so amazing while I’m taking those physically small but metaphorically huge steps towards full recovery. I’m so thankful for the combined power of prayer and garlic that fought off the bacteria in my body over the last couple weeks, and I look forward to sharing more of my story as another group of kids come for coffee and conversation about the levitical code next week. Please pray with me that alongside those conversations, I can extend my brace free independent walking to loop around the firehouse with ease by next week – and to the soccer field by next year.
