Last week Amanda and I traveled to Grand Rapids, Michigan for our denominations National Conference. Conference itself had its high points and low points but overall we had a very nice time. I do have to say that many Michigan drivers don't follow the speed limit. I am sure it's not all of them, but we noticed a significant difference in the speed of drivers compared to Pennsylvania and Ohio. We're talking 10-15 miles over the speed limit on the highways. Just an observation from our journey.    

I wanted to blog at the beginning of the week, but I was having significant computer issue's and trouble with my website's host. Those seem to be cleared up so let me tell you about the car we drove to Michigan. Let's start the story six days before we left. . . 
   
    Almost a week before our journey to the "Great Lakes State", I went to the local car rental shop in order to secure a car for our 400+ mile trek. (It's more cost effective for the church) I went to the business and told them my travel plans and wanted to make sure that I was able to rent a vehicle that I could somewhat comfortably fit into. I sat in a Chrysler 200 and immediately knew it was too small. I then sat in a Nissan Altima and found it to be comfortable for myself while still giving a back seat passenger some leg room. The person assisting me assured me that they would have a large enough car for me that next week and she was grateful that I stopped in to "try one on for size".

    The day finally arrived for us to pick up the car (last Tuesday) but to my dismay they had no full size cars. The two they had had been rented and the renters decided to keep them longer. The only car on the property for us to drive was a Chevy Malibu. I have no issue's with a Malibu (or with the Chrysler 200) but Chevrolet didn't make this car for people my height. The rental facility had a ho-hum type of attitude and pretty much said take it or leave it. They did offer us a 15 passenger van or a pickup truck to take instead, but we declined. (Most trucks are more difficult to drive for tall people then small cars.)

    I told them that we would take the car because we were leaving that next morning and didn't have other options. So the next day off we went to Michigan. It was very providential that we didn't have anyone riding with us because their was about 2 inches of room for a person to sit behind me. The car sat so low and I had my seat so far back that I had to use my back passenger window to see if someone was driving beside me on the interstate. I felt as if I couldn't see my surrounding well because when I turned my head to the left I was staring at the divider between the front and back doors!

    On the way home I asked Amanda to snap a picture of me double checking to make sure no traffic was beside me while I was using the rear window. I just found this experience unique and wanted to share. We all have different vices and we all have had to adjust to make due with what is available. No harm done and we arrived at our destination safely and we returned home safely. Overall, the car drove and handled well, but continually looking out the back window was a pain in the neck . . . literally.

   

 

Yesterday I visited one of my best friends in the hospital at the Cleveland Clinic. I hadn't seen him for nearly ten days as we were on vacation to the Smokey Mountains. When I arrived in Cleveland, and finally got parked, I made my way through the hospital to Mike's room. My heart was filled with relief when I saw him because he is doing significantly better than the last time I visited.

I was able to chat with him and his wife for a few hours, but since it takes nearly 2 and a half hours to drive back home, I left at 2:30 in order to be able to have time to mow the yard before dark. (He also had therapy) I said my goodbye's and had a short time of prayer with him and out the door I went. I have such a difficult time with directions inside of large hospitals and I often get lost. After following the signs and looking like I knew what I was doing (admit it, you've tried to look like you were in control and knew where you were going even though you were completely lost!), I made my way to the elevator.

Since I was on the 8th floor, I needed to make my way down to the 1st. Three people boarded the elevator with me and an additional four more boarded on the 7th floor. A number of floor buttons had been pushed by the elevator riders and we started our "stop-and-go" descent. As frequently happens, a fellow made a comment about my height and it started a conversation about low doorways and low EXIT signs. Apparently the stories I told and the enjoyable dialogue I had with this man captivated a young woman who was riding. 

The elevator stopped at three other floors before it arrived at my floor destination. By the time the elevator arrived on my floor it only housed myself and that young woman. She was so wrapped up in the conversation I was having that she missed her floor! I told her I was happy that she was engaged in my height stories and I enjoyed my elevator ride too. As I exited the elevator, she pushed the 3rd floor button and went back up to her final destination.

One of the biggest tools of opportunity that we have is our story. Like many others, mine hasn't always been enjoyable or easy, but we often have priceless opportunities to share our lives with others. Even if it's just for a brief 8 floor trip on the elevator.

Never believe that your story or life isn't worth sharing, you never know who may be riding in the elevator with you. Your story may even keep a person on the elevator a little longer then they planned!

Today was our first full day of vacation in the beautiful Smokey Mountains. It only took us a little over 12 hours to get here yesterday and we had a good night sleep to start out this mornings activities.

We secured our tickets for the Dixie Stampede for Sunday night and then headed to Gatlinburg for the day. Needless to say, I forgot my knee brace and after a mile+ walk up and down some significant hills my knees were shot. Thankfully, I was able to ride the trolley the rest of the time and I am back at the cabin reclining in a chair as I write.

I am not big into having pictures taken of myself but my sister-in-law took one that I wanted. As you can see, I'm really not that tall.

Mr. Wadlow started growing profusely at age 2. By the time he was 15 he was well over 7 feet tall. (Yeah, you read that right.) At the time of his death he was 8'11" and only 22 years old. Mr. Wadlow tried too live a quiet life as he was a shy man, but, with size 37 shoes, every aspect of his life was super sized.

For about 15 minutes I sat outside of the Guiness World Record Museum in awe of the size of this man. He weighed over 400 lbs as he was just an overall large man. My hands were dwarfed by the massive size of his. I felt so small when I looked at the robotic recreation of this giant man.

I also watched the reaction of people when they saw this giant recreation. The laughter. The "wows". The parents who are pushing their children to get close to this giant man who then scream and run away in fear.

I wonder how he felt those many decades ago when people saw him? The comments I get over my height would have paled in comparison to his.

So even decades after his death people still point fingers. I shared with Amanda on the way home that my heart went out to Mr. Wadlow as his life would have been hard. Nothing would have fit: clothes, shoes, any mode of transportation, houses . . . You name it he would have struggled with it. He always would have been looked at differently and I wonder what all he experienced in those 22 short years?

So, back to the picture. When I walked up to him, after watching people for 15 minutes, to have my picture taken, guess who was stared at now beside Mr. Wadlow? Not hard to figure out . . . Me. I knew it would happen, but I wanted to have a picture taken.

Of course when I was walking away someone looked at me and said, "You could pass for his brother." I chuckled and told him that he has me beat by over two feet (as I am only 6'9") and that we're not related. I patted him on the shoulder as I walked back to my family as the crowd who had gathered to see me stand beside this giant man watched my departure.

The moral of the story, because I am getting tired, please be conscientious around others. As I witnessed that even after death people can still be cruel to someone. Love and accept folks who are not like you. If we were all the same then living on this world would be boring. I accept your shortness so feel free to accept my tallness.