Hope That Walks!

I have been blessed by the opportunity to utilize a new technology to help people with disabilities have the opportunity to "walk" again.  Ekso Bionics (formerly Berkley Bionics) asked me to be a test pilot to which I quickly said "YES!" to back in December!

I still search for words to describe how undeniably grateful I am for the chance to use this amazing technology.  To be upright, walk, feel my knees bend, use arm crutches, have nothing in front of me, and for a couple hours forget that I was paralyzed will always be one of the most memorable moments in my life.  Also, I took some of my last steps in the Bay Area, so to return to the same place where I was last walking and walk again?  Indescribable and emotional.

I hope you enjoy this video put together by a friend of mine.  Thank you again, Ekso Bionics!  You are doing amazing things to help bring hope back to those who almost lost it like myself.

An Apple A Day

This past week has been fairly rough for me. I have done a lot of reflecting on certain situations, and two that predominantly stick out for me is that 1) I cannot allow others' actions to create a reaction in me, and 2) I need to be true to who I am rather than who I think people want/expect me to be.

I had a major meltdown Monday evening triggered by someone else's actions (or lack thereof.) It brought me to a very low place - similar to that of where I was this past summer around the anniversary of when my disability occurred 11 years ago. I cried and cried, then cried some more as my mind and emotions spiraled downward. I knew better than to try to fight this alone, so I reached out to a friend who calmed me down.

The next day was not so awesome either, but I forced myself to go to work as I knew it was better to be around people than to be alone. Later that evening, I had to go to the Apple store to get my laptop fixed. I had just shot pictures of an event the previous weekend and needed to get them processed but was unable to because of my laptop not charging. Earlier that morning, I had prayed to God that he would please show me that He cared, saw my tears, and heard my hurt heart.

The Apple "Genius" looked at my computer (mind you, they had just fixed this same problem last week) and said he'd have to send it out to get fixed. I could tell he was in a hurry, he was working through his lunch break, and probably was just trying to get me out the door. But, I told him I couldn't go without a computer because I had projects I needed to have completed, especially since this was just fixed a few days ago. I was beyond frustrated now, especially with the mood I was in emotionally with the triggers that were surrounding me. This was the last thing I needed.

Long story short, the Apple guy decided to give me a BRAND NEW MacBook Pro. I literally think time stopped. I asked him if I was being punked and he said, "No, it's yours. For free." ????

I immediately started crying. I knew it was God speaking to me. He looked at me and I shared with him about my disability and the emptiness I had been feeling the last two days and how I had prayed that God would pleeeease just make Himself evident to me that he still was here for me. I told him that what he just did was the answer to the prayer I had prayed. I think he was as shocked as I was in a different way to which he asked if he could hug me. He said that I still have a task to do here on earth. Again, I knew that was straight from God.

I'm still in shock and can't believe that God spoke to me in such a powerful way. Only two people knew how I was really feeling the night prior. There are days that I think that God is going to heal me. And there are days that I'm super confident where I KNOW God is going to heal me. And then there are days that were triggered by this person to where I wonder if God even cares. God showed up at the Apple Store that evening and provided the "burning bush" I needed.

I arrived home and about an hour later got a phone call from a good friend who I met through the Ms. Wheelchair California pageant last year. She asked if I was interested in participating in something that literally was another "burning bush" moment from God that gave me hope to believe in hope! I'm sitting here in the San Diego airport typing this blog as we speak headed to a once in a lifetime opportunity to which I'm so, so blessed and thankful.

I don't believe things happen coincidentally. Especially in this instance, there is no way that these two things could have happen almost simultaneously. God is for real, people! No matter how doubting, "bad", or angry you are, He still cares! (And sometimes throws in a new laptop on top of it all!)

I have learned in this past week not to surround myself with unhealthy people or people that will only bring me down. I'm in such a good place now that I've released these negative thoughts and attitudes, and it's apparent because God is blessing my realization for dependency on Him. I learned to be okay with who I am and not be what I think others expect me to be. I am an individual, unique, and amazing person who God created to do a certain task that no one else can do. I can't be someone else, because that would be intruding on their life path. Mine is my own. And the awesome part is that I get to choose who is a part of it. I don't have time anymore for unauthentic people. So as I begin to wrap up 2011, I'm slowly starting to reevaluate my relationships, priorities, and responsibilities so that 2012 is the best ever!

Lose Control

Last night, I found myself in a place where I was not in control of life situations like I'm used to. And it all happened without too much warning. It was a moment where I felt vulnerable, scared, and embarassed all at the same time, yet I tried to hide all three feelings because I was trying to stay in control and not let people see the fear on my face. I don't think I did an awesome job at that, but I am proud of myself for confiding in someone that understood and knows about 95% of me. I'm thankful I had that trustworthy friend to count on during that time who literally stayed by my side throughout all of it.

 In that state, however, I began to see a very powerful lesson.

"It's okay to not be in control all the time."

I don't know how to do that all so well. It seems like it may not be all that miraculous of an "ah ha" moment, but for me - for someone who has now been semi-forced to be in control of my life due to this disability - it was a freeing feeling of spontenaity. Nothing seems spontaneous anymore, yet for a brief moment, I experienced it because I felt safe. You see with this disability comes a position that no matter how out of control things get, there's a part of us that has to be somewhat in control for us to carry on with every day activities. Most outsiders don't understand this. But for eleven years of trying to stay on top of this disability - keep it under control - it was a very foreign feeling. Not only was I not able to articulate what I needed, but I had to put my complete faith and trust in someone during a situation that was very much like how I got hurt eleven years ago. Back then, I put my faith in someone who I trusted 100%, yet the outcome then didn't turn out so well then. Those same feelings came back as I sat in the passenger seat of my car. Once again, I was putting my faith and trust into someone who I believe in 100% to have my back. I had to let go of control and simply trust.  And I did.

It's moments like that where you see who your true friends are - those who will stand by you when you're at your best and at your worst. I'm not sure that I'm still able to fully articulate what I was taught in that brief moment of wisdom, but I'm fully aware that it was another step towards authenticity in me. I need to allow myself to go there more often. Let my "castle wall" down a bit more, be okay with who I am, let go of control, and surrender to trusting people more easily who I know care about me and won't judge.

It doesn't matter what the obstacle is in life, there's always a lesson that comes from unpredictible moments. For me, I learned that with life, sometimes it's okay to be a bit "out of control. :)

Age vs. Experience

I have been alive for 284,496 hours since I first took my first breath. I bet my parents can remember those first few hours of my life, or those early hour feedings, or the hours I spent crying after someone hurt my feelings. But when I look at the number of hours I've been alive, I think, "Wow, that doesn't seem like all that much," seeing that the average person has 723,000 hours available to them to do with what they'd like. So what is age really? Does age matter?

Over the last two months, I've really given some deep thought into how much age plays in life - whether it be personally, professionally, emotionally, or mentally. How much does someone who is 5 have in common with someone who is 10? How much does someone who is 25 have in common with someone who is 35? How much does external circumstance influence a persons "mental" age compared to their "actual" age?

According to studies, up until the age of 5 years old, the child inside of us has learned how to attach to others for emotional security, explore by through curiosity, assert ones self in their identity by becoming secure in the sense of who he or she is, and begin to become competent in his or her own sense of personal power in order to achieve something greater. Each of these stages happens at a different age level, but each is so important in order to build off of the other. If one step gets neglected, the child is essentially "stuck" at that mentality until he or she works through it. (Thus the reason all of us need to be in counseling because let's face it, none of our parents were perfect, and we as current or future parents aren't going to be perfect!) It isn't until ages 7-13 years old that we develop a sense of sympathy, care, and concern for others, and ages 13-19 years old to integrate that into the ability to love and be responsible to ourselves and society. Deep stuff.

My earliest memory is probably at the age of 2 years old. We lived in a little house in Minnesota. There are three specific things I remember about that house - my dad had built a play set for me, the red barn in the back right hand corner of the backyard, and a garden in the far left hand corner. I remember squatting down in my two year old overalls next to my dad in the garden as he taught me all about potatoes and how they grew under the ground and compared them to carrots since they grew under the ground, too. I remember him letting me pull up one carrot - even though it was too early for it to be pulled. I remember the leafy green top being very luscious and looked as though from the top it was ready to be pulled, however once I pulled it out, the carrot was probably only two inches long and very skinny. My dad knew it wasn't time for it to be pulled, but he allowed me to explore my curiosity. It's amazing to me that I can remember that early back.

But during these 284,496 hours of life that I've lived, not all of them have been good memories. Naturally as a human being, I've had pain, disappointment, and loneliness in my life. Feelings of abandonment, feelings of not being good enough, and feelings of anger, rage, and hatred. Sometimes, these feelings have happened all at the same time! I don't feel, however, that these "wounds" have limited my life. In fact, I honestly don't think my age reflects the knowledge that I've gained from these experiences. There may be things that I now have to do to compensate for things that have happened in my life, but it doesn't mean that I'm not able to continue on. It doesn't mean that I have to be "stuck" at that level or be put in a category because of something that happened to me.

You see, my dad knew it was too early to pull the carrot up from the garden. But in order for me to learn that there is a growth period for carrots to be full and mature, he had to allow me to explore. Was the carrot inedible? Absolutely not! It was actually just the right size for my two year old self! :) But many lessons can be brought about from that simple example. Sometimes our curiosity brings us down a path that may or may not be a healthy choice, but it still can result in good depending on how you look at it. Though the carrot was small, it was still edible. Was it enough for a salad? No. But I learned. At the time, my dad was probably in his early 30's, but he gave me a chance. He loved me, taught me, protected me, and cared about teaching me even though I may have been disappointed that the carrot didn't look like the ones I had seen in the grocery store. At that time, I remember looking up at him with a confused look on my face as he simply said, "It's okay," and explained to me why it was so little. Age didn't matter in that moment. I'm sure I taught him something, too.

I've heard it said that with age comes wisdom. I'm not so sure about that, to be honest. There are a lot of people older than myself who are dumber than dirt. Sorry, but it's true. And there are some who have all the papers and degrees in the world saying they are smart, but they don't know how to treat people with kindness and dignity. And then there are others who are younger than me who have taught me how to be a better person, shared with me the hurts of their past, and shown me how they've overcome them. Age, in my opinion, doesn't matter. Experience is what matters to me.

What have you done with the hours you've had available to you? Have you wasted them away? Have you paid it forward to someone else? Have you allowed your experiences to help or hinder you? I'd rather be around people who have had horrible pasts but are wiser because of them and use their hurts for the good of others - despite their age - than people who have every degree in the world but don't have compassion in their heart.

Allow yourself to reach out to others if you need help (forget the "you have to be strong on your own" stuff), explore new things or ideas and find out for yourself if it's what you believe (rather than believing it just because someone "said so"), learn how to assert yourself in what you find (rather than being aggressive and combative), and know that you can overcome hurdles in your life that were once painful. Through this process, I believe you'll learn how to love and how to have compassion for others, regardless of age, and become a responsible person. I know I have.

Age vs. Experience? I vote for experience.



"It's not what you look at that matters, it's what you see." Henry David Thoreau

Change Has COME!

Do you remember your first day of kindergarten? All I remember of the very first day of my education is getting on the bus, and that's about it. What various aspects of kindergarten I remember, however, is nap time, Show and Tell, the Line Leader, Door Holder, etc, and reading Dr. Seuss' "Green Eggs and Ham" and then later making actual green eggs (with food dye) and ham. Kindergarten these days, however, has changed. They've done away with nap time. Show and Tell might happen if the teacher decides she needs a break one week. And the list of responsibilities has been revamped to no longer include a door holder, no library stick holder, no ice cream person, and no caboose among others. This kind of makes me sad as I sat with a friend of mine's kindergartener a few weeks ago at dinner (pictured above) and discussed all things kindergarten-y. My, how times have changed. And he's so, so smart at 5 years old! (I guess that's what happens when you get rid of nap time!)

But, times DO change! And another type of change has happened in my life which is bittersweet but good! I've known about all of this since mid-August, but with all that's been going on in my life, I haven't had a chance to blog about it! So... (drum roll, please) ... I have been offered a great opportunity to grow with another company! Free Wheelchair Mission will forever be a part of my heart and my life. Much of my growing came from there, and it was an answer to a prayer in so many ways. But, this past Friday was my last day there and let me tell you - so sad! As I walked out the door towards my car, I teared up as I looked back at that door and realized I walked out of there a better person than I did over four years ago when I started. I am grateful.

For personal reason's I'd rather keep my new company under wraps right now, but I am excited about the new adventure and learning experience. Today was my first day and was greeted by many excited faces happy to see me. How warming! And in Free Wheelchair Mission style, I brought brownies for everyone! (I'll have to become the new "Pam" at my new office. Ha!) As the days go forward, I know that I will grow equally as much as I did at Free Wheelchair Mission. My mom has always said, "You get out of it what you put into it." I will be working very hard to improve myself professionally and personally while hopefully also making a difference in the lives of others around the country. It was a day full of meetings, but it gave me a good "get your feet wet" temperature gauge of how the company runs. And naturally, I came home after work and took a nap right away! :) (Nap time still exists in my house!)

It's interesting to me that God put this sense of change in my spirit about a year ago, and looking back at experiences I've had over this past year, it has prepared me for what I walked into today. New opportunities are a bit like starting Kindergarten, I suppose. Everything you learn is fun and educational... if you let it. No, I didn't get on a big yellow bus this morning, but driving in my car to my new office created a bit of the same nervousness and excitement I did that first time many years ago. Change is good, so here's to the next step in my journey!

Next Sport: Change

Life throws some interesting curve balls, huh? Some I've been trained to catch, yet others knock me clear off my feet or I miss them completely. I'm still learning to catch them.

Growing up, we had a pitching machine in our backyard. It was awesome! My brother and I would go out there and hit off of it into the homemade net cage my dad made for it. We'd take turns feeding the machine so the other could hit. It's a fond memory of mine. My brother was in baseball since I can remember, and most summers were spent at the local baseball diamond. As I grew older, my love for baseball turned into the love of looking at the teammates in their uniforms! Ha! I think I flirted with half the team each year. My brother would just roll his eyes. My brother was a fantastic baseball player. He was always on the All-Star team (which led to me checking out a new flock of boys - lol), always the best player, and could play just about any position. He was trained well. (I'm sure from my expert ball-feeding abilities into the pitching machine! Ha!)

You see, however, that pitching machine only pitched one way. Straight. There was no option for it to throw a ball any other way, thus the accuracy of hitting the ball was quite high the more I hit. If it were to have been thrown in another direction at some random moment, I probably would have ducked! That unexpected curve definitely would not have been expected!

I've found the same to be true in my life when it comes to things I've practiced and have somewhat perfected. The accuracy of my knowledge and wisdom is pretty right on with the things I know. But when a curve ball gets thrown my way, most people say that the options are either "fight or flight." But there's another option. "Freeze." Unfortunately, I was raised in a household where the option was to "fight." Sometimes it's healthy, but most times it's not.

I'm stubborn. I know this about myself. I strive for perfection, and it's easier for me to just do something myself then to have others help. Growing up in school, I haaaaated group assignments. Why? Because I always ended up doing the project and everyone else got the good grade, too. I don't mind working with someone who is my equal, but I haven't found too many of those in life. Most of the time when left for someone else to do, I get screwed over.

Recently, I've met someone who is like the other side of my brain. It's actually pretty scary because we somehow know what the other is thinking before it's even said. In my opinion, we work pretty dang good together. This is a rarity in my life. But, I've also had to learn to be patient during the process because my head is thinking faster than I allow someone else to complete something. I think it's the whole " would rather do it myself" syndrome. Maybe it's perfection. Maybe it's control. Either way, it's something I realize I need to continually work on. But, it's nice to find someone who works just as hard towards the final product as I do.

I've also realized I've become frustrated when people just throw stuff together haphazardly in order to show someone else up - to beat them to punch. People who try to "one up" someone drive me bonkers! Yet another thing I need to work on - learning what to allow myself to get worked up about and what not to allow myself to be concerned over. Change will always be occuring in my life. The last year has brought about more change than I think I could handle, but at the same time, I think it's made me that much stronger. Mary Engelbreit said, "If you don't like something, change it; if you can't change it, change the way you think about it."

I like the old Japanese proverb that says, "The bamboo that bends is stronger than the oak that resists." I want to be more like bamboo, but also know when to be strong like oak. There has to be a balance in my mind. Similar to the pitching machine as I was growing up. Because it threw straight all the time, I knew what to expect and anticipate. But had it thrown a curve ball every so often, maybe I'd be more equipped to knock another one out of the park. President John F. Kennedy also said, "Change is the law of life. And those who look only to the past or present are certain to miss the future."

Life is full of change. Every day my life changes. I just have to learn how to catch the curve balls. :)

"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; the courge to change the things I can; and the wisdom to know the difference."

Desperado

I have so much to catch up on with blogging, but the last couple weeks have busy and full of ups and downs! So, let me back up to the week of my anniversary.

On Wednesday, July 27, 2011, I had hit bottom. I was questioning "Why?" more than ever before and honestly didn't think that anyone cared whether I was on earth or not anymore. I had decided that it was time for God to heal me, and He hadn't, so life would be better if I would just go away. The anticipation of my 11 year anniversary was simply too much to handle. The deep-seeded emotions that were a part of me that day do not have words and are hard to convey in a blog, but I was not in a good place at all. I was afraid of myself and what I could possibly do.

The evening before, I had to work at our annual gala for Free Wheelchair Mission. It was a good evening, but one that is always hard for me because even though we do good things to get wheelchairs to people in other countries, I honestly wish that wheelchairs weren't even necessary in this life! I'm not a fan of being in one every day, but at the same time, I truly don't know what it's like to not have one either. It's a weird, emotional night for me. Needless to say, the next day it was as if the bottom let out.

I was searching. Wondering if anyone cared if I was alive or dead, if anyone still cared that I was still hurting 11 years later, or if anyone would even take the time to say anything to me on Friday. All of my thoughts were full of sorrow and grief, and my mind had slipped - rather zoomed - into a deep depression. I cried non-stop that morning and decided it was best that I not go into work. My way of keeping myself "safe" is to escape into sleep-mode. So, that's what I did. I crawled back into bed and slept. Whenever I woke up, I would force myself back to sleep. When my mind is in this mode, life is easier to handle when it's not in reality. I didn't eat. I didn't talk to anyone. I didn't turn on the television. I didn't care.

Late that evening, I decided to create an event on Facebook called "Walk A Mile In My Shoes." I honestly did it out of desperation. It was my way of crying out to people as if to say "hey, it may be 11 years, but I'm not okay with this yet!" The event was centered around inviting people to walk one mile wherever they live in "honor" of my 11 year anniversary on Friday, the actual day of the accident. The title came about as a way for me to "throw mud in people's faces" yet at the same time be genuinely sincere about the event. Part of me wanted for people to be reminded of the fact that I can't walk as they walked that mile. I wanted them to be reminded of all the things I can't do anymore. But the other side of me wanted them to truly take a moment to reflect and pray for me. I sent out the event to every friend I had in my Facebook account, anticipating maybe 5 people would do it.

I woke up the next morning to see that 40 people had already signed up! I was shocked! Why were these people doing this? Why did they care about me? I created this event as a way to prove to myself that no one cared... and it was backfiring on me! People actually cared! Throughout the day, friend's of mine invited other friends of theirs who decided to sign up to walk a mile. I think I spent more time that day picking my jaw up off the ground than pouting about why I was still in a wheelchair! I went to bed that evening with the first person having already completed a 5K in China in my honor!!!

The next morning, I woke up unusually early. I opened my eyes and a sense of peace and calm had swept over me. I laid there quietly in the stillness of the morning, thinking about how much my life had changed since 11 years ago. I was strangely content. I leaned back and looked behind me where my clock sat on my nightstand, and I smiled. It was the exact time of the accident 11 years ago. I inhaled slowly and exhaled with the calm that had entered my body. "Interesting," I thought to myself. I reached for my phone and got onto Facebook to see if anyone else had decided to join the "Walk A Mile In My Shoes" event. I was even more shocked! People from different countries, people I didn't know, friends of friends, my own friends, and family had decided to do this and over 140 people had committed to walking a mile on my behalf! I was stunned! I had nearly 20 messages from people posting encouraging words to me, pictures of them walking, and even my cousin decided to go so far to go through a hike in the woods (which is one of my favorite things to do!) knowing that I couldn't do that as easily anymore. The thoughtfulness of people I didn't know and people I did know took my breathe away. I was blessed, and people cared. I was reminded by God through other people that I was needed here on Earth. I felt so humbled.

Jennifer had posted a picture as her profile picture that I hadn't seen in quite some time. It was the last picture of me standing in my favorite place, Yosemite National Park. She and I were on Sentinel Bridge in front of Half Dome at the same time Alpenglow was getting ready to happen. I stared at that picture for a few moments, thinking back to who I was at that time when the picture was taken. I observed my face, my clothes, my stance. I remembered my thoughts and experiences, and I then tried to make a parallel to my life today. And there wasn't one. Looking at that picture made me realize how far I truly had come in life - regardless of the wheelchair! "Why do I want to go back to being her?" I asked myself. I couldn't find an answer. For the first time, I thought that it's probably okay to let the past stay in the past. It was a strange feeling to let go of that girl who I wanted so desperately to go back to being. But I realized I don't need to be that Alyson anymore. I don't need to yearn to be where she was or do what she could do because I'm so much wiser and stronger that I was then. This horrible circumstance created me to be a better person in so many ways, and I was thankful.

Just think. Two days prior, I was ready to throw in the towel and be done. I had confided in only two or three people of the way I was feeling. I wanted to end it all, and remember, my way of protecting myself from doing anything stupid was to just sleep. But because I reached out for help in more of a desperate manner than one of clarity, I was reminded how loved, cared for, and appreciated I was in life. The point is, I REACHED OUT! I was also able to remind myself how far I've come and hold my head a bit higher realizing that I had a purpose. It wasn't so much the act of people walking that helped me. It was the fact that people took the time to send an encouraging word. Yes, seeing them do something I can't do anymore was extremely rewarding. But hearing how I make a difference in people's lives was the true take away.

I don't say any of this lightly, and if you are considering that death is the only option for you, please reconsider. Reach out. Tell one person. There are people who care, even when you don't think there are.

My life verse is James 1:2-4. I carried that with me a lot that day, but I also carried Romans 8:38-39 with me more so that day. "For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

Thank you so much to all of you who decided to participate in "Walk A Mile In My Shoes." You gave me a new perspective that I had no idea existed, and God used you to show me that life is worth living, no matter what the circumstance may be. Please remember (as I have been taught) how important it is to encourage people. You have no idea what they may be going through that day and may need YOU to just let them know how much they are appreciated. Love you all!

Mercies in Disguise

I had a good morning today as I re-visited my church (long story) and was pleasantly surprised with the sermon. It challenged me to think deeper - a sermon that I want to reflect on later this week. It was on Romans 7:15-25 and titled "Winning the Battle Within Me." Basically, we simply don't have enough willpower to overcome anything. The passage is from where Paul is talking about, "I don't understand myself at all, for I really want to do what is right, but I can't. I do what I don't want to--what I hate.” (verse 15) It was a good reminder that I'm not perfect and I'm not expected to be. There is literally an internal, spiritual battle going on inside all of us all the time in regards to the verse and circumstances or decisions in life. Yet through God's grace and mercy, He restores us - and Praise God that we need Him!

After church, I had lunch with my best friend/accountability partner and her husband along with a wonderful woman, Tiffany, and her husband and beautiful daughter. Conversation with good friends is always good, and meeting new people who have a heart, a passion, and an unbridled vigor for the Lord is so refreshing! Especially when laughter is involved! Revives my spirit!

I was in the car this afternoon after lunch and headed to Costco. Probably not the best day to go, but I needed some things and was in the area I've recently switched over from listening to Top 40 hits on my short commutes to a local Christian music station. Granted, some of the songs are things I've heard for umpteen million years (and honestly, I'm a bit tired of them). But, there are some new songs out that I haven't heard before that are honestly amazing, and it's interesting to see how my perspective of life changes when I'm encouraged and influenced in a more positive way.

One that particularly struck my heart with the lyrics was this song called "Blessings" by Laura Story. Have you heard it before? Listen, and be blessed. It spoke to me as did "If You Want Me To" by Ginny Owens did when I first became paralyzed almost eleven years ago. Powerful stuff, folks. I wonder what trials that I'm going through in life right now that are mercies in disguise. It's good to be reminded that this home is not our home, and good to be around friends who remind you that Jesus is our Everything! Happy Fourth of July, and God Bless America!

"Blessings" by Laura Story

We pray for blessings, we pray for peace

Comfort for family, protection while we sleep

We pray for healing, for prosperity

We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering

All the while You hear each spoken need

Yet love is way too much to give us lesser things

'Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops

What if Your healing comes through tears?

What if a thousand sleepless nights

Are what it takes to know You're near?

What if trials of this life

Are Your mercies in disguise?

We pray for wisdom, Your voice to hear

We cry in anger when we cannot feel You near

We doubt Your goodness, we doubt Your love

As if every promise from Your Word is not enough

And all the while You hear each desperate plea

And long that we'd have faith to believe

'Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops

What if Your healing comes through tears?

And what if a thousand sleepless nights

Are what it takes to know You're near?

And what if trials of this life

Are Your mercies in disguise?

When friends betray us, when darkness seems to win

We know that pain reminds this heart

That this is not, this is not our home

It's not our home

'Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops

What if Your healing comes through tears?

And what if a thousand sleepless nights

Are what it takes to know You're near?

What if my greatest disappointments

Or the aching of this life

Is the revealing of a greater thirst

This world can't satisfy?

And what if trials of this life

The rain, the storms, the hardest nights

Are Your mercies in disguise?

Power of One

Adrenaline pumps through my veins at times like the scene in the picture above. Moreso when I'm the one on stage! This was taken this past weekend at an event I had the privilege to speak at called Fishfest. It's a cumulation of Christian bands, and over 17,000 people were in attendance. I had the honor to be interviewed by one of the radio show hosts, Lara Scott.

Once again, I have seen God unravel His plan for my life. I think I knew it all along from that very first time I spoke on stage at convocation at Samford University less than a year after my car accident. I've been told by musicians that while they're on stage singing, worshipping God, and in front of thousands that their eyes go blurry, they can't remember what was said or done afterwards, and that it's an almost out of body experience. I can echo the same experience when I speak. It literally is as if God is taking over my human body and speaking directly through me. The surge is electrifying, powerful, and dynamic.

So many wonderful people told me how well I did after I got off stage. And in all honesty, I feel a little guilty saying "thank you" after I speak. I never associate that it's me who speaks (spiritually), but rather I was reflecting the passion in my heart for what God's done in my life and the avenue's that He's allowed me to be a part of like Free Wheelchair Mission. It blesses me to know that I'm a blessing to thousands in developing countries get a wheelchair that they otherwise would never have use of in their life.

But the adrenaline during and afterwards take a good two hours or so to get flushed from my system. It doesn't matter what I'm speaking on - whether it be work related or my personal life - but I'm charged up by thousands of people hearing of God's work and how He took a broken person like me and decided to mold me and use my "not so flattering moments"' to better His Kingdom. I'm in awe of how the Lord works.

My friend of 20 something years posted the video of me speaking that evening on her Facebook page stating how much of an inspiration I am to her and others and how proud she was of me. You see, though, Brianna was the first person to call me up once I came home from rehabilitation and offered to drive me to church. She was instrumental in my life by bringing me back to the Lord's house. I was so self-aware during that time and embarrassed because of the wheelchair, the time it took to get in and out of the car, worried about what people thought of me, would people talk above me as if I wasn't there, would her taking my wheelchair apart to put in the trunk scratch her car, would my pants fall off when I transfered to the car seat, etc. Those of you who are newly injured or remember those first days know exactly what I'm talking about! But Brianna didn't treat me any differently from when I walking and skiing down the ski slopes of West Virginia with her than she did that day when I had to use a wheelchair to go into church. To this day, she is still as accommodating and aware of what I need yet treats me exactly the same as she did twenty years ago. She knows the unpleasant parts of my life, yet still loves me. She's seen me cry, yet still reaches out to hug me. She's seen the joys of my life and been there to cheer me on. I can't tell you what life would be like had certain things not happened to me, but I'm not sure I'd be where I am this day without her boldness and willingness to be there for me the first Sunday I was home from rehab to take offer to take me to church.

Sometimes, that's all it takes. One person reaching out, noting the obvious but also having the ability to look past it and still love you. "Two people are better off than one, for they can help each other succeed. If one person falls, the other can reach out and help. But someone who falls alone is in real trouble." Ecclesiastes 4:9-10. I'm so grateful for those friends in my life who have stood by me through thick and thin, have heard my full testimony, know all about me, and yet love me still. That is the sign of a true friend and of someone who is loving as Christ loves us. I have succeeded in life because of those individuals who have believed in me even during my deepest, darkest hours - who have pushed me forward - and who remind me why I was created.

I hope I get to speak of God's love for me and all my faults for a long, long time. :)

God, You're Weird

" A friend is one to whom one may pour out all the contents of one's heart, chaff and grain together, knowing that the gentlest of hands will take and sift it, keep what is worth keeping and with a breath of kindness blow the rest away."

- Arabian Proverb

Growing up, I had more friends who I yearned to be friends with and to like me than I did real, true friends. We moved around a lot when I was younger, always in a different state until we finally settled in Georgia when I was 9 years old. So my early years were formed around that longing to have a deep friendship with someone that lasted until I was 100.

Throughout high school, I never felt like I fit in either. I was friends with a lot of different people, but none that I would really hang out with on the weekend. I had a lot of different groups of friends, and I could never imagine them all being in the same room together.

I was deeply hurt my senior year of high school by friends who I had considered close to me. They all decided to go to Disney World as their "Senior Trip" together. And they purposely didn't invite me, even though we had always talked about doing this together since we were in Junior High. Worst part was that I found out about it at the funeral of the father of one of those girls. But, I took the higher road and chose not to mention it or bring it up at the time because I knew she was hurting. I denied what I was feeling for the sake of hers.

In college, the same applied where I longed to make friends that mattered and were true, genuine friends who would accept me for who I was. I had heard that college is where you meet some of the best friends of your life. The School of Music is a very tight-knit group of students - predominately because you are doing all your classes together for the next four plus years. I gained the friendship of some wonderful men and women, but two who I was closer to than others.

One of those women was the one I was in the car accident with in July 2000. Our friendship was deep and authentic. I felt as if we were very much on the same level in so many ways, and she inspired me to walk closer to God. It was that summer in 2000 that she decided to come visit me in ministry in California. Then something so devastating happened that shredded our friendship almost completely. The accident.

For eight years, I was very hurt, lonely, sad, and confused. I didn't understand why something like my paralysis would tear us apart. I couldn't understand a God that would do this to me, to us. I blamed God. I blamed the car. I blamed her. I blamed everyone. She wanted nothing to do with me, so it seemed, and that separation from my best friend created a deep ache in me so much. After that eighth year, though, I started to look at both sides of the fence (so to speak). I tried as hard as I could to write out what exactly it was that bothered me and tried to also see things from her perspective. This vantage point gave me more insight than I could have ever understood before, and it led me to a place where I could ask for forgiveness for the pain I had caused her. "What?" you say. "What pain did you cause her? You're the one who is paralyzed!" Well you see, I had done my share of hurtful things to her as a form of revenge. I had never acknowledged them for fear of not being liked anymore. But at that point, what did I have to lose? She already wasn't in my life. So on our ninth anniversary, I had the opportunity to share with her all the things I had done wrong to her and ask her for her forgiveness. It was transformational! Healing began immediately both within myself and with her. In fact, we are closer now than we have ever been since the accident happened, and it's a reality I never thought would come true. It was 100% God who mended this relationship, but it was only after I first realized that I needed to be mended. After me, He could heal our friendship. I am blessed.

Back up to the other woman who I had become close with in college. For the first couple years, she was "that girl" who I really wanted to be friends with but didn't know how to or what to say. She was a bit intimidating to me because she was so much prettier than me, seemed to have more friends than me, and was liked by everyone. Yes, I wanted to be her friend. And throughout the years she became a good friend of mine. But it was our Junior year of college that our friendship began to blossom. And then, the accident happened. But rather than drift away from me as many did during that time, she drew very, very close to me. She was there for me when no one else was there to hear me cry. She was there to experience new adventures with me at a weekend camp for people with disabilities when I already felt so self conscience of myself. She was there with a beautiful bouquet of flowers for me for my one year anniversary after being hurt. She has been there for me for the past ten years when the one I was in the accident with wasn't. She is my kindred spirit, as Anne of Green Gables would say. She knew everything about me, and I trusted her.

I was there to help her pick out her wedding dress when our mutual friend proposed to her. She and I took a night away a week before she got married to have one last bonding moment together. Oh, the memories! I was there for her to zip her dress before heading out to the sanctuary. I took pictures of her, wrote down memories, and stored them away for a future anniversary. Her sister was a huge blessing to me during my Senior year of college after she got married, and I became very closer to her that year. I was part of the family. I was one of the first people she told that she was pregnant for all three of her babies. They were relocated because of Hurricane Katrina when their first was just a newborn, so I held a clothing/money drive at the school I worked at for just her family. I've sent her children Christmas gifts, birthday gifts, loved them as if they were my own, and cared about her family as if they were my own. I finally felt like I belonged somewhere. Again, she was my kindred spirit that I thought only existed in novels.

Because her, her husband, and I were all mutual friends since we were 18 years old (and her husband and my birthday are a day a part), he and I often had conversations about life, but all the time about his wife. Our last conversation was to plan a surprise birthday party for her (his idea). I would fly out there and meet her and have a much needed time away together with her. I was so excited about the surprise! But sadly, none of that would ever happen.

I trusted her with everything in my life - all the good and the bad. One day, I had shared with her about something I had done that I was not proud of. I was completely ashamed and confused as it was not like me at all to have done what I did. I was seeking wisdom, guidance, advice, and love. Not love from a human standpoint, but love that Jesus would offer. Within what seems like seconds later, I would not hear from her again. There are a couple more details in there that don't need to be mentioned, but I'd quickly be asked to not talk to her husband or her family. My heart broke.

This silence has gone on for about a year now, and there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of her or her family. There has been some communication, but really, none that would amount to even a paragraph in a chapter. And definitely none via telephone. I learned years prior with the one I was in the accident with that I needed to figure out what it was that was my part in the situation, acknowledge my wrong-doings, ask for forgiveness, and hopefully move forward. I took some serious time to look at the things in question and admitted to what I knew about then requested forgiveness. But...silence. I've kept in contact with her this entire year - acknowledging anniversaries, birthday's, holidays, births, etc. I've called to just see how she's doing, emailed, sent snail-mail. I've also honored her request to not speak to her husband. But yet, it seems as if the roles have reversed and now I'm at a loss for words. I don't know what to do anymore. I've done all that I know how to do, and it saddens my heart even more to not have this person in my life like it was prior. Maybe the timing was just coincidental, but a sin is a sin in Jesus' eye, no matter how big or small. I've forgiven myself. Jesus has forgiven me. And I've asked for her forgiveness. And now I'm just blabbering on with words that mean nothing anymore. I see her life move on, and it seems to have moved on without me. I'm once again left very hurt, lonely, sad, and confused, but this time by the one who has been there for me at my worst. I've been abandoned by my kindred spirit, and it's a hole that seemingly can't be filled.

I write all this out to just say that God is weird, and I don't know what to do. He's weird because it took a great lesson of eight years to learn that I had to look at myself first before trying to mend a friendship of another, and now that I've learned that lesson and I've done all the biblical principles to make healthy steps toward a better, Godly life, I still feel like I'm being punished. I don't get it, God. What's the lesson now? I thought You had brought me a Godly woman who was someone who I felt so comfortable with, could be myself around, share my joys and struggles with, and be authentic with without being judged, looked down on, or be seen as a "risk." I thought she was someone I could grow old with, watch our children get married some day, and share lemonade on the front porch with as we laughed about memories from the "good ol' days." I really don't want to let this friend go, but I'm getting worn out from investing in a dead end road. A friendship has dual communication, so maybe it is over and I need to move on? Perhaps there are friends that you really can't trust everything with? I don't know. It just makes me so sad that I haven't been able to share my past year with her and that I potentially won't be able to share my future with her, either.

God, You're so, so weird. You restored a friendship that I never thought would be restored, and now you're allowing one to leave that I've sought restoration from the biblical way. You obviously know what you're doing, but still, God. You're weird.

Just Because

"I Carry Your Heart" by E. E. Cummings.

Happy vs. Grateful

This was from our Staff Devotion today at work. I really liked the perspective it took on the difference between being happy and being grateful. I hope to choose to become more grateful...

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Have you ever known a happy person who wasn't grateful, or a grateful person who wasn't happy?

Perhaps a way to look at this is that happiness is a result of gratitude.

The wonderful thing about this is that, while we cannot always just choose to be happy, we can always choose to be grateful.

There is always something to be grateful about.

You can be grateful that you are alive and have opportunities to learn and grow and share love.

You can be grateful for the sun, the rain, the snow, the beauty of nature, the green of grass, the glory of trees, the color of flowers, the presence of animals, the food you eat.

If you have health, you can be grateful for that.

If you have friends, you can be grateful for them.

If you have a mate, children, a home, a car, a job, you can be grateful for them.

You can choose to be grateful for all the big and little things in life, each and every moment.

The more you choose to notice what is good and beautiful, the happier and more peaceful you will feel.

On the other hand, there are always things to complain about if that is your choice.

Instead of noticing the beauty of the flowers, you can complain about having to water them.

Instead of being grateful for the opportunity to be alive, you can complain about how hard it is.

Instead of being grateful for the sun, the rain, or the snow, you can complain about how hot it is, how wet it is, how gloomy it is, or how cold it is.

Instead of being grateful for you food you eat, you can complain about how hard it is to cook it, or how expensive it is to buy it.

Instead of being grateful for your health, you can complain about your weight.

Instead of being grateful for your partner or your children, you can certainly find endless complains about them.

The more you complain, the more unhappy you will feel.

It is not the person or the situation or the event or the past or anything else that is causing your unhappiness - it is your choice to complain about it instead of discovering what is wonderful about it and being grateful for it.

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(The picture is of my awesome friend, Julie's, super cute kids! You can check out her blog by clicking here!)

When All Else Fails

I know there is no loneliness with God, but as a human, it can feel that way sometimes. This past month (April) was one of the worst months in history (followed closely by July 2000 and December 2006). And when I tried to reach out to people, only a few were there to truly listen.

I won't go into detail, but it seemed like everything I could lose, I did. My life is no where in despair compared to some people, but if I were to compare my own life to itself - the high's and the low's - well, yeah, this past month is one in the books for low's.

It's funny that my last blog was about expecting something good in my life. I had been feeling this way for quite awhile, even before 2011 happened. Yet as everything seemed to crash at one time about a month ago and the tears just couldn't stop due to the stress of it all (literally 9 things happened within the period of 3 weeks), I remember sitting in the hallway of my house and thinking to God, "This wasn't exactly what I was expecting."

But, I hold out hope that there is something... someone, that is going to rock my world this year. Why? Because I trust God. It took me awhile to get to this point several years ago. Trusting God when He has changed up your own life plans is really hard. Back before my car accident, I dreamed of graduating college, teaching music, potentially going into the mission field, finding the man of my dreams, living in a nice house in the South with a white picket fence, 2.2 kids, and a cocker spaniel. I'd be a stay at home mom until our children were in Kindergarten, but I'd be home for them once they were home. And our life would be perfect. But, that was when I was 20 years old and extremely naive. I was brainwashed by those Southerners, because that's not real life at all!!

I give a lot of credit to the college I went to, however the one thing I think it could have done a better job at is preparing its students for real life, not just an education. The only class that really challenged my thinking and beliefs was a required course called "Cultural Perspectives," and it changed my thinking mostly because it was taught by an Atheist teacher that pushed the envelope with the required reading material. (Not sure how he got hired at a private, Christian college but I'm thankful.) In that class at the ripe old age of 18, I met a guy who I still look up to to this day. Though the same age and raised in Mississippi, he always seemed more mature than me. I'm not sure why he even remained friends with me since I was so, um, "Little House On the Prairie" in college (and highschool for that matter) and he was so handsome - definitely out of my league. I had no life experiences, never drank, never broke rules, etc, etc. Yuck, I was boring. Thank God I've moved on from that sheltered life. This guy befriended me that first semester in college, always acknowledged me when he saw me on campus even if he was in front of his fraternity buddies, and after the car accident when everyone else seemed to move on with their life or treat me differently because I was now in a wheelchair, he was the only male friend that acted like nothing had changed. I was smitten with him for awhile before I became paralyzed, but always thought he was "above" me and would never be interested, so I talked myself down that it would never happen. And when I thought all else had failed, he seemed to always be there for me at just the right time. I still remember his smile after I spoke at convocation for the very first time. In fact, I wrote about that time in my journal, dated April 21, 2001:

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I was nervous in the weeks proceeding to speaking (in chapel) because I didn't know what I was going to say. The night before, I realized that this wasn't like teaching a bible study lesson or preaching a sermon, but this was my life. So, I typed up a few facts about spinal cord injuries and that was all I had. I didn't know what I was going to say or how long it was going to take. I wasn't nervous at all. I actually loved speaking! I have always wanted to speak in front of people, but I didn't know how or what to start with or that I even had this gift.

Afterwards, I had a lot of people tell me how inspirational I was or how "great" I am. I've heard it all before. All the comments were nice, but it still seems weird to me. One guy that I have known since a freshman named (intentionally left out) came up to me afterwards and said that of all the convos he's been to these four years, mine has been the most meaningful and has touched him the most. He asked me to open up my hand, and in it he placed a piece of paper that contained his phone number. Me?? Wow.

I had told Dr. Barnette about him, and he said that he is a really good guy and comes to convos a lot. This past Thursday I had to be in convo again because I was being awarded something, and there he was. I tried not to keep looking in his direction, but it was hard. Afterwards, I had my back turned towards the back of the chapel talking to some people and all of the sudden these arms envelope around me. For some reason, I relaxed and knew it was him. I put my hand up to his face and said "Hey!" He said my name has been on his mirror to "Call Alyson." He promised me that we'd get together soon, and made me pinky swear with him. He is the first guy who doesn't "see" the chair and isn't intimidated by it. Little does he know that it meant more to me than he'll ever know.

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After college, we kept in touch every so often, but lost touch eventually. He went on to Law School and then moved on to DC. Soon after I found out he went to the Middle East to do some stuff for the government. He's done and experienced things in this world that I'd love to hear about in intricate detail. For years I searched for him. I would Google his name every so often, try to see if his name would pop up on our college's magazine of "what we're doing now" section, and almost went so far to contact his family (but I didn't, because then it would be kind of stalkerish). I had wanted to tell him all this time of the impact he made in my life. Finally, we reconnected on Facebook a couple years ago. I was so excited! I have yet to gain the courage to outright tell him the impact he made on my life - mostly because he has a girl in his life who claims to be a best friend, but I have my doubts if that's true (I have a feeling they are more than that). And there isn't any need for me to intrude with my blabbering about how important his friendship had been during those early days of me not knowing up from down. So for what it's worth, here it is for the whole world to see. But nonetheless, it's important to note that one never knows when he or she is going to make a huge impact in ones life. I still admire him and will always count him as a true friend because he didn't care what other people thought about him. He was himself then as he is now (though a lot wiser and a whole lot more world experiences), and people who can be true to themselves and go after what they want in life are those who I want to be closer to.

Anyway, this is not at all where this blog was intended to go. But it does go to show that God was there for me before my car accident, after it, and I know He hasn't left me yet, nor will He. Perhaps it was through certain people that He showed Himself to me or through songs, events, or written word, but it's good to know that He hasn't forgotten about me. So, that is why I trust God that He is still going to fulfill the year I know in my spirit that He has told me is coming. Through the good and the bad, I still believe, even though I have human tendencies to try my own way at times. And when all else humanly seems to fail and I think I'm at the end of my rope, I tie a knot and hold on. It can only get better.

Thanks, my friend, for showing me Jesus through you when I was holding on to that knot years ago. (And sorry this may all be coming from out of the blue if you're reading this for the first time.)

On the Verge

A soft brush of wind across my face is a welcomed reminder that God exists. I don't doubt that He exists, not one bit. But when you feel something you can't see, that's faith.

My faith has been tested the last few months in various situations. For example, I've become more sensitive to the hurting needs of those around me. Perhaps it's that the friendships are deep. Or maybe it's that I'm just paying attention. Either way, my heart and spirt have yearned to pray for them. I oftentimes find myself falling asleep at night with a prayer on the cusp of my breathe. I know God knows my heart nonetheless. In other ways, I've been tested personally with my own faith with trusting God when things come up unexpectedly.

I'm on the verge of something good where I feel more in control than out of control. For awhile there, it seemed as if I was spinning - doing a lot of things, but not a lot of things well. I feel that God has narrowed my view to pinpointing where it is He wants to use me best for the Kingdom. Again, I feel this yearning to learn, to give, to teach, and to trust. It's the same analogy that I used at the beginning of this blog. I feel God's breathe on my face, but I don't know why I need the air. However, because of His provision and promise to guide, protect, and build me to be more like Him, I know that whatever is on the verge is good. Why? Because I know what it's like to be on the other side without Him. And what it's like to feel the ugly. "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to proser you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11

Transition is good. But with that said, I'm not one who likes drastic, immediate change. I've always been kidded for not moving past the childlike, 4 year old stage of constantly asking "Why?" I'm the type of person who needs to understand it in order to believe in it or trust it to move forward. Do I need to know the entire picture? No. But it needs to make sense of some sort. So, to just pick me up and drop me in ... oh, let's say, Yugoslavia (does that country even exist anymore?)... I don't know that I'd do so well. Don't get me wrong, I'd make it somehow, but I'd like to at least know how to say "Where's the bathroom?"

All this to say, I feel that God has prepared me the past several years for something big, and it's refreshing to feel that wind against my face and feel content with wherever it is He's leading me.

I see life as a big puzzle. God has the box top that shows the picture of what it's supposed to look like, and little by little, I'm slowing putting the pieces together. It's a good feeling to be here, to have the edges of the puzzle already framed in, and to begin filling in towards the center. What a glorious day it will be when I reach Heaven and can look back on the life I had, see the entire puzzle put together, and hear "Well done!" from my Saviour, Jesus Christ.

Somewhat unrelated, but this is a song I had on repeat throughout my college days by an old-school Christian band called FFH. (If you've heard of them, holla!) Love this song.

God's moving!

(The picture above is from my wonderful photographer friend, Carl Calabria. He took this picture of the "Super Moon" that happened about a month ago and only occurs every 18 years. You can see more of his fantastic work and read about his beautiful family by clicking here.)

Stolen Moments

I love the title of this blog. The phrase was used on Friday by someone very close to my heart. The phrase makes me happy, because I can't think of any reason why the concept would be bad. Usually the word "stolen" refers to something wrong or illegal. But in the phrase "stolen moments," it simply makes me smile.

Since Friday (which isn't that long ago - a day!), I've tried to saturate in stolen moments that come my way. And I've found that they come at the most spontaneous, unexpected times. Yesterday, I had a stolen moment that made me reflect on God's timing while texting with someone across the country. This morning while sitting on my porch, soaking in some sunshine while newly budding flowers surrounded me, I was reminded of the blessings I have in my life. A stolen moment. Another stolen moment occurred while I engaged my mind in a deep, intellectual conversation with someone this afternoon. And again this evening, another stolen moment happened while at the Apple Store.

The Apple Store is an interesting place. One day, I think I might just sit outside on a bench simply to people watch. Upon entering, it's typically pure chaos. Teenagers checking their email, adults trying to wheel and deal, parents entertaining their kids with the lower level computers, and store techs trying to control what a foreigner might see as a "one time only sale." But, there aren't sales at this store. The reason for my visit tonight was to head to the "Genius Bar" (I mean, really. Who isn't led to believe that these people know everything, simply because they are called "geniuses"? I do. LOL!) Well, who knew that geniuses are gorgeous, too?!

Meet Casey Pahl. She was my genius for the evening. :)

After helping me with my "you have too many photos" issue that was clogging up my hard drive (do they have support groups for this?), I suddenly noticed a beauty that enveloped her skin. Now, if you were just to meet her in person, you'd already find her to be beautiful - eyelashes that extend for miles, a cute smile, an edginess to her, long rolling locks of brown hair, and hey, don't forget that she's a genius! She's someone you'd want to grab coffee with and chat to for hours because she has an intriguing look about her. But while she was writing down directions for me to do at home (because it would take too long to do at the store), I suddenly noted the artwork around her wrist. Upon seeing it, I immediately thought of the "Twilight" series for some reason. What my eyes were seeing was beautiful, unique, and nostalgic. It seemed as if she was from some other dimension that left me speechless. Lace was surrounding her skin, yet it wasn't noticeable unless you really looked. Out of curiosity, I cautiously asked, "Are those tattoos?" to which I found her eyes light up and reply, "Yes."

She explained to me that she hadn't seen it before on anyone but when she went into the tattoo parlor, she requested if they could do the design in white rather than black. Um, GENIUS! I think it is such a gorgeous concept. I have been thinking about getting a tattoo for a few years now, but the "saggy old 80 year old with a shriveled up tattoo" just doesn't appeal to me. And, I don't want it to be something that catches people's attention. It's for me, not a conversation piece. So the concept of doing it like this made my mind spin quickly! A stolen moment, for sure. (Click on the picture to see it in a bigger frame.) The picture itself if captivating, but to see the work in person is even more beautiful.

I'm going to start using this phrase in my head more often in order to enjoy moments that I'm given in life as a way to embrace, love, and cherish different parts of the day. Who knows, it may turn into a stolen weekend one day! Here's to the one who offered this phrase to me via text on Friday. I love you and hope for many stolen moments in 2011.

(Photo by Wendy Porter-Francis)

Disability + Life = No Money and No Time

I'm battling my need for money and my trust in the Lord as my provider. Again.

I was in this place 4 years ago, and God answered my prayers exponentially. Yet here I am again doing more than my body can physically handle, but it's because bills need to be paid. I've been doing the Financial Peace University through Dave Ramsey (as mentioned in other blogs) for about 2 years now. It has been a hard road to give up the things I see that other people have or turn my eye from what I want in order to use the resources God's given me wisely. But I just don't get where in this plan there is a section for "if you have a disability, do this."

Having a disability is horrible when it comes to money. The government basically punishes you for trying to be independent and hold a real job if you want them to help you. You're only allowed to make a certain amount (which is extremely below poverty level - seriously) in order to qualify for assistance. And even if you decide to go this route, the supplemental income from SSA/SSI doesn't cut it. Yet on the other hand, I try to hold a job in society and be independent and prosperous. But, I know that my body can't handle it some days. But, I still do it. And I still need another job in order to make ends meet. So, what's the point in trying to be independent?? And where is the prosperity?

I'm really struggling with trusting God right now. I'm ready to cry, give up, and say I'm done. Of course that's what Satan wants me to do. But it's how I feel right now. Working 12 hour days on top of trying to care for my body now that I have a disability. Well, let's just say it doesn't work. There is no time to "relax," go to the gym, enjoy a movie, etc. In fact, I envy people who have time and energy for vacations on the weekends or can go to the gym after work. The time it takes to grocery shop, unload the car, cook something, clean the kitchen, wash the clothes, fold the clothes, take a shower, clean the house, etc, etc, etc.... the list goes on and on. Those of you who use a wheelchair and do everything by yourself understand what I'm talking about. I just don't know how much longer I can do this. And it's not a matter of me budgeting or cutting things out of my life. I already budget and have cut so much out of my life. I live in a cardboard box basically in order to reduce the cost of rent. I honestly don't go to the grocery store very often because I don't have time to cook and I don't have money for eating healthy. So, I just choose not to eat and drink a lot of coffee when I get to work and see what's on the table.

I really try not to complain too much, because I know this is the path that God's given me and I need to live life to the best of my ability and with excellence. But I just don't understand some things. When I was first hurt (almost 11 years ago), I wanted people to treat me just like an able bodied person. I didn't want any accommodations or exceptions made for me. It was my denial speaking. I have learned over the years, however, that I'm not like everyone else and what would take an able bodied person 30 minutes to do, it takes me about twice as long. It is frustrating, yes. I feel like I'm burning the candle at both ends and not doing anything well. However the reality is that I know what I'm doing at my job, I'm extremely educated, I've exceeded my monetary goal, and I'm doing extremely well. But it doesn't seem to be enough, and that is so frustrating! And, bills don't pay themselves, and the government sure doesn't help.

*Sigh*. I really don't know where to go from here. I hope that a beacon of light will come through, because I feel like no one truly understands (or wants to listen) what life is like for someone with my disability, at my age, doing it all by myself. Right now, I feel like I'm working to live rather than living to work. And it just seems to get worse the older I get in age and in this disability. Where is the balance?

I want to protect my body and give it the recovery time that it needs from each day in order for me to live a long life, but at this rate.... gosh. Who knows. Praying that God will give me sustainability. Somehow. I just want my life back and be able to enjoy it rather than having to constantly worry about money.

A Learning Quest

There are very few people that I know who are still in college - meaning in their late teens or early 20's and enrolled in school and for the most part, away from home. I love seeing life through their eyes - their inquisitiveness, their depth, their search for what the truth is in life. It brings me back to my college days and how free-spirited I felt.

I loved my days in college. Though it was a small private, Christian school, it helped develop who I am today. During my college days, I felt in charge of my life, time wasn't a factor, and sleep really didn't mean anything. I exerted my independence, broke a few rules "just because" I had never done anything "bad" before, and fantasized over boys in my class about what our future would be "if only." There were girls who I wished I was like, professors who taught me more than what the syllabus stated, and a balance of questioning life and trusting God.

As a little girl, I was always up late reading books. I remember my mom having to frequently come into my room to tell me to turn the light off. Yes, I tried the whole flashlight trick, too. It didn't work. Every time we went into a shopping center, I'd go to the area where the books were to see what book I wanted to read next. Sometimes, I was finished with a book before the end of the same day we bought it.

I have a fascination with books and bookstores. I love what's written on the pages - and what's written in between the lines. Books to me are like purses to some women. There are probably three books on my nightstand that I'm reading, and a dozen more on one of my many bookshelves of which I have yet to read. I'm challenged by each, and I learn something from them all. And I hate having to get rid of books! How does one choose which one is unworthy of sitting on a bookshelf any longer? Oh, the thought tears my soul. There is a nostalgia about an old book - a lost art, perhaps - that cannot be replaced by a Kindle. I'm sorry. It's just not the same as turning a page with your fingers and smelling the scent of the paper.

I digress.

College was the first time I was challenged to read "big" books. Books like Machiavelli, Bonhoeffer, Augustine, Karl Marx, and Jane Austen. I loved the discussions that came about by the words of these authors as well as the push to search within myself for what I believed.

College was the first time I was kissed (gasp!). It was the first time I wore flip flops in the shower. And if I think hard enough about it, I think it was the first time I ever went line dancing. There was a local place just over the hill called Señor Frogs. The name always perplexed me as line dancing, spanish, and frogs didn't go together, but I learned many line dances including my favorite, Cotton-Eyed Joe.

But as I reflect on others' current experiences and questions that they search answers for as they are in the midst of their own college days now, it makes me yearn to learn again. I love learning and strengthening my brain to be wiser and use it for more than I use it for now. If money weren't an issue, I'd probably consider being a lifetime student. I already have my Masters Degree. I sometimes wonder out loud how Dr. Roth would sound. Hmm.... :)

But seriously. Maybe that is what God has been nudging me to do as of lately. Honestly, I do not care about the titles or really even the degree. I just want to take random classes to enhance my own knowledge, to challenge my thinking, and to have even more intellectual conversations with others. What an amazing organ the brain is. Thank you, God, for creating us with the ability to learn and for providing the tools to stretch our minds. And thank you to those who are still in school to challenge my thinking through your own. The opportunity to learn never ends.

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(The photo is borrowed from a phenomenal photographer and friend named Mary Anne Morgan. Check out more of her work on her blog by clicking here. Her daughter, Annie, inspired the blog I just wrote. Check out her own blog here. She is a true artist with her words, and my blog dims bleakly in comparison to hers. This family has etched a special place in my heart, and I love learning simply by having the opportunity to glimpse into their lives from afar. I wish I lived closer but cherish the time I had with them when I was near.)