Birthday's: Past and Present

Birthday's are so much fun to me as you can tell from my very first birthday party! Anyone who knows me knows that the celebration starts 30 days prior to my actual birthday and lasts until about a week or so afterwards.  Ha!  I even celebrate my "half birthday" (6 months after your real birthday).  My friends and I started celebrating our half birthday's our freshman year in college - and we got "half" stuff.  For example, one year I really wanted an eye mask to sleep with.  Instead?  I got a pirate's eye patch!  Ha ha ha!  We'd get each other half a card, half a cake... you get the idea.  It was super fun and we still wish each other "Happy Half Birthday" to this day - umpteen years later!

I love hearing my mom and dad tell me the story of my birth every year.  I'm sure mom gets sick of telling it (and I practically know it by heart now), but I love hearing her tell me what she was doing the night before she gave birth to me.  Each year, I manage to ask a question I didn't previously know the answer to in order to trigger her memory more.  But hearing her tell me of those moments is a beautiful thing to me.

My family knows that birthday's are HUGE to me.  After all, I wouldn't be who I am had people not been born to influence and guide me!  (And visa versa.)  I go all out for other people's birthday's and don't expect anything less for my own.  My parents will tell you stories of me planning my own birthday parties at a very young age!

Here's just a smattering of some special birthday times this year!

How sweet is it that my mom set her alarm to send me a text early in the morning to wish me "Happy Birthday" with a three hour time difference between us?

And Dad gets the countdown and joins in, too!  :)

Japanese Hibachi!

 aka "Japanese Scarlett O'Hara"

Baseball Game with my brother!

 Gorgeous flowers sent to me from my parents!

 Happy Birthday Cake, and I got serenaded by one of my best friends, too!

Yup, two of us ate half the cake!  Haha!

 A super amazing theater with leather reclining seats and waiters that come and take your dinner order!

So spectacular!  We acted like teenagers playing with the automatic reclining seats!

Dinner and a movie - literally!  (We saw "The Lucky One")

Dinner with good friends at a local place - super fun!  Beach breezes are the best.

 Great atmosphere!

 Yummy dessert with another candle to make another wish!  I love making wishes!

See's Candy?  Yes please!

Some friends have interesting choices of birthday cards!

New reading material!  (Opposite sides of the spectrum for sure!)

Though birthday's are getting less nostalgic the older I get, I never want to lose that kid in me that gets all giddy at the thought of a party, cards, balloons, and singing.  Most importantly, I've traded the excitement of gifts for the that of meaningful friendships.  I'm thankful for friends who love me and helped celebrate the day of my birth with me.  Thank you to everyone who wished me a "Happy Birthday" and/or helped me enjoy my day!  Each of you mean so much to me!  Here's to an amazing year ahead ... and a few more get togethers of celebrating!  :)

A Memorable Royal Day

A year ago today, I was sitting in my hotel bed in Atlanta, sipping tea in honor of the Royal Wedding between Prince William and Kate Middleton.  I set my alarm early so as not to miss it, but I hardly slept all night in anticipation of the big day.  I love weddings - especially nostalgic ones like this one.  


It was beautiful.  Simple elegance, grace, and poise.  It was honorable to both tradition, the Middleton family, and to the Royal family. Yet I was undoubtedly moved by one of the best addresses I have ever heard by that of the Bishop of London with him opening this moment with one of my favorite quotes from the entire morning:
  

"Every wedding is a Royal Wedding for we are all subjects of the King of Creation."

From a "regular" girl to that of a Princess, may we all remember we are Daughters of a King!  Continue on with that of dignity, realizing that whatever we do is a reflection of that with whom we serve. 

The Journey Continues, But Almost Done

I feel as if the past two months have been a blur.  Hours run into days, and days into weeks.  However, there has come a light to the end of this tunnel!

Detox is no joke.  I can't speak for illegal drugs, but coming off of something as powerful as a prescription drug is something I don't ever want to have to go through again.  However, I have yet another medication that is causing problems and need to come off of, so the journey continues.  But at least I know I can get through it!  Let me bring all of you up to date in my recovery.

After fumbling around on my own trying to keep up a house, laundry, grocery store, and myself by myself for 6 weeks (though a few gracious friends pitched in since I couldn't drive to the store while dizzy), I decided it was best if I "finish" my recovery around my family.  It has been such a blessing to be with them and not have to worry about all the other stuff (laundry, grocery shopping, cleaning the house, etc).  All I had to do was focus on recovery.  I think they would admit that it took some time for them to get used to my ups and downs with this detox.  After all, they hadn't been around me at length to see how dreadful the side effects are.  My most peaceful days were up at our cabin in the mountains where internet, phones, and other electronic distractions weren't possible.  I woke up when the sun came up and went to bed when the sun set.  I read a book.  Watered flowers.  Took a nap in the sun.  I felt rested.  Above is a view from my bed and what I saw each morning as I awoke.  How can one not feel at peace in this environment?  Amazing.

Two weeks into being at home, I started experiencing other symptoms that were not what I was used to with Cymbalta.  During my time away, I had been in constant contact with my doctor so he knew exactly what was going on on a weekly basis.  I couldn't figure out what was causing these erratic symptoms, though!  Then it dawned on me.  I had forgotten to bring one of my medications with me.  Thus, my body had started to withdraw from it.  I emailed my doctor who was extremely concerned and said I needed to be back on that immediately as it could cause my heart to beat faster than normal and cause a heart attack.  For real?!  This was the last thing I needed.  Another problem.

My doctor called in the prescription and after about 7 days I started experiencing relief again.  I guess what they say is true - if it's not one thing, it's another.  He had mentioned at the early stages of getting me off of Cymbalta that I needed to taper off of this other medication, too, but not at the same time.  All this to say, I'll be going through yet another detox coming up soon.  *sigh*  I have become convinced that natural is the way to go if at all possible.  Call me a hippy, but this has been one of the hardest things to do and is honestly nothing to take lightly.  Detoxing off of anything - medication or an illegal drug should be taken extremely seriously.  Chemically compounded medication isn't always the healthiest option.  But that's just me.

All in all, I've felt pretty good the last couple of days - other than a random day today where I was experiencing tons of dizziness and vertigo all day long.  Even as I type this, I have to blink a few times to make my eyes focus.  But I feel about 80% better than I did at the end of February.  Praise the Lord!  It's frustrating because by looking at me, you'd think I was completely fine.  But it's what's going on inside of me that cannot be described unless you're in my presence at the time it's happening and you see the side effects start to take over.  But I'm mostly through that part of it, so again, Praise God for healing!

"Being genuine is better than being perfect -- start feeling good about who you are."  

And I do!  And rather than focusing on the next medication I have to come off of, I'm going to stop and celebrate my upcoming birthday (April 30th) and be grateful for all that I have and all that I've accomplished and overcome in my life!  Here's to a healthier me in all aspects of life!

Such A Slow Process of Detox

Coming off of Cymbalta is probably somewhat comparable to me having to adjust to having a spinal cord injury.  There are obvious differences, but the adjustment is the same - it's horrible.  Each day is different, and no two days are alike - much like the rocks in this picture I took while at the beach.  In the last month, there is only one day that I actually felt "normal."  It was such a respite that was refreshing.  They symptoms in the last post remain the same, though some have dissipated slightly.  As I continue to lower down in dosage, I've noticed that new symptoms bring on challenges of their own.  I'm thankful for the internet because I don't feel alone in this battle as I read of others' withdrawal struggles from Cymbalta.

Upon first diagnosis, I was embarrassed of the process.  I was embarrassed because I'm not someone who uses drugs let alone becomes "addicted" to them.  I felt like I had let myself down and wasn't meeting the expectations of God for my life.  I felt useless because I didn't have any energy to do anything - learn, grow, work, think, read, concentrate, speak, or maintain "kept," as they say in the South.  In fact, the blog I wrote took so long to write with accuracy, and I found myself getting frustrated because I couldn't stay focused.

I do better in one on one situations with people as I don't have to concentrate so hard, yet I still have severe anxiety when having to be somewhere at certain time (i.e. doctor appts) or upon meeting with a large group of people.  My speech is still a slight problem, though I'm probably more aware of it than others.  There's a fogginess to my brain and still an annoying buzzing in my ears.  The cramping in my legs is also unbearable upon dosage drops.  It is completely different than spasms as most people with spinal cord injuries understand.  My legs contract inward and do not want to go straight. It is practically physically impossible to move them while they are in this state - and it happens at least 30 times a day without notice.  This makes transferring extremely hard as moving from one object (bed, couch, car) to my wheelchair requires some straightening of the legs.  And they hurt so much.  I know I'm lowering dosage because the nerve pain has returned to my lower extremities and the lower back pain feels like a tight mess that doesn't want to let up.  *sigh*  I still am dizzy and go through periods of feeling like I see things that aren't really there.  Recently, I've started to hear things that aren't really there.  I have periods where I'm really cold, but for the most part I'm really hot.  Ups and downs, ups and downs.

One symptom that is really annoying is the lack of and/or tons of sleep.  It's either one or the other.  As I said, each day is different.  I never get a restful nights sleep.  I sleep two hours at a time at most before I wake up.  I've now resorted to just staying awake until I literally can't stay awake anymore - which usually ends up around sunrise.  Yes, I know.  You're probably gasping right now of how that is even possible.  Well, it is.  But there's an adverse effect to that of sleeping all day.  This frustrates me because I don't get much accomplished.  I'm thankful that my mom made two different dishes and put them in separate, individual containers in the freezer for me to eat each night.  Otherwise, food wouldn't be a part of my life right now.  I drink Gatorade constantly as I feel it keeps me hydrated.  I've recently gained an obsession with just wanting to flush all these toxins out of my body!  And just to keep it real - things that typically smell from your body, smell worse.  I'll just leave it at that.  I blame it on the toxins and although it grosses me out, it somewhat satisfies me that it's out of my body!

Below are pictures of the little balls of poison that are in each capsule.  (I do not intake them like this but keep them in capsule form until I have to manually remove balls after 20 mgs. because they don't come in smaller dosages than that dosage.)  The highest dosage I was on was 60 mgs capsules, seen here in the first picture.  I then lowered to 30 mgs capsules after a couple weeks.  This was a hard week as it was half of what I was taking originally.  My body definitely reacted poorly and I had all the side effects mentioned in the previous post, but I feel as if my body was still thinking it was going to get more of the medication soon.  At this point, I realized I had to separate "my body" and me into two different categories. My body was its own entity.

My "body" knew I wasn't fooling when I dropped down to 20 mgs capsules (pictured below).  I had to fight a lot to keep my mental stability stable as the cravings were bad.  I kept my thoughts focused on the future and knew that I'd make it through this struggle.  After all, I'm a fighter, a Taurus, and I'll beat this drug.  The doctor said that going from 20 mgs to 0 was going to be the worst.

I decided along with my doctor that after 20 mgs, I'd drop down by 5 mgs each week rather than 10mgs in order to lessen the side effects and allow my body an easier time to adjust.  Again, all of this has been done under the direction of my doctor.  I went down to 15 mgs and now down to 10 mgs (pictured below).  Can you believe how few balls there are, yet they still have such resounding effect over my entire body?  At this point, I have to manually remove balls from the capsules.  Counting balls, as some forums suggest of users who are also trying to withdraw from Cymbalta, would drive me insane and create even more anxiety in me!!  So, I've decided to eyeball it.  It's not that hard actually because I'm just splitting a 20 mgs capsule in half.

In awhile, I'll be able to drop down to 5 mgs., and then down to 0 and be completely off of it.  This period is probably the most I'm afraid of because I don't know how long my "body" will hold out before it realizes I'm not ever giving it another bit of this drug!  Right now, I feel it's used to going down and adjusting as needed.  But going to nothing?  It doesn't know what to do.  And I don't know how many days/weeks it will take before it starts to "revolt."  I'm sure I'll be okay.  It's just fear of the unknown.

I know I'm lucky compared to others who have been on the drug for longer than a month like myself.  There are some who have been on it for 2 years or more.  So, I'm thankful and extremely appreciative for those of you who have consistently prayed for me during this time.  Yet still, odd sleeping patterns, not leaving the house for days, stacks of clean laundry folded yet not put away, a sink full of dishes, and extreme exhaustion is getting old.  This is not like me.  Soon, though.

There are far to many yesterday's to count, but I keep pressing forward knowing this depressing "party" will be over with soon.  There is no physical way to undo what's been done.  So I start again each day knowing it's one step closer to the end.  I rest on what I know, not how I feel - even though there are days I'm not sure what I know.  And sadly, I don't know what the timing of "soon" will be in the end.  It could be a few more weeks, it could be another month.  However, I know there's an end in sight to where I'll be back to the hard working, determined, focused, joyful, and happy person I am.


(I write this blog as a way to help others know of my experience with this drug and to also document the process for myself.  Symptoms are different for everyone, though I urge you to contact your doctor if you are on Cymbalta or considering taking it.  Please educate yourself on all the symptoms, side effects, and withdrawal effects of this and all medications you take.)

Warning! Withdrawal Happening!

*** Others honesty in the past couple weeks has led me to be open and honest in this blog in hopes of helping someone out who may be dealing with the same thing. ***

Many of you have probably noticed I've been away from the computer, become withdrawn, and overall not had the happiest of days lately.  For about a month, I didn't know why I was becoming worse and worse by the day, but now I do.  It's because of a prescription drug, which I'd like to refer to more as "poison", called Cymbalta.

I grew up with my Dad having depression but could never understand it.  I used to think to myself, "Just be happy!" with a snarky attitude in my tone.  I never dealt with depression myself until after the car accident happened.  Depression is taboo in society that isn't often talked about but is definitely a real issue.  We've all seen the commercials on the television for various new drugs claiming to cure the "blues."  I always hear them say, "If your depression gets worse while on X medicine, call your physician immediately."  I used to think, "How can someone get worse on an antidepressant?"  Well, I'm living proof.

I had been taking another antidepressant for about two years due to situational depression, however starting February 1, 2012, the premium was going to be raised from the regular $20 copay I was paying to over $400 a month!  I cannot afford this so I was searching for another antidepressant knowing I couldn't just stop cold turkey on one.

Several friends had recommend Cymbalta to me because it would help with not only the depression side of things (which I had been managing really well with and was considering going off of the other drug but couldn't go cold turkey) but also the tingling nerve pain I have in my lower extremities on a constant, daily basis, and then the lower back pain from sitting all day (obviously).  I did do my research on the drug, but I only researched the drugs qualifiers and what it would do to help me, not the related symptoms or side effects it could cause.  

Towards the end of January, I started taking Cymbalta at 30 mgs. once a day for a week.  The second week, the doctor directed me to increase it to 60 mgs. once a day.  I did as she had suggested.  (Note:  This was not my regular primary care physician (PCP) but someone at an Urgent Care Clinic as I needed to be switched quickly and had yet to find a PCP where I recently moved to.)

I experienced a few symptoms on the first day I started and again on the day I increased the dosage, but it wasn't bad.  I noticed my nerve pain lessening and going from a constant 7 or 8 on a pain scale to around a steady 4 to 5.  This made me very happy!  Slowly, however, I noticed I was sleeping more than usual.  I just equated it to the fact I was working longer hours and working late into the night once I got home.  I started not eating and would wait until 5:30pm or so to eat a small meal or snack.  Progressively towards the end of February (4 weeks on Cymbalta), I was not amounting to much.  I was a step above simply existing.

The later days consisted of sleeping 18 hours, not eating, not caring about anything or doing much other than the essentials.  I knew something was wrong.  I was not myself.  I wasn't the go-getter, hard worker, happy, laughing, take on a challenge Alyson that I am.  I was severely depressed and extremely worn out.  I needed help, but I didn't know who to go to!  I am new to the area and don't know any doctors.  I remember looking online at the doctors on my insurance and calling for an appointment, but they were either not taking new patients, on maternity leave, or not seeing patients until like April 2075.  Talk about making someone who's severely depressed even more depressed!  It was like calling 911 and them not having any ambulances available!  I needed help now!  I finally lost it at work (which ended up being my last day of work) crying uncontrollably about how frustrated I was with what was happening to me.  Who was I?  What's happening to me?

As a final resort (after not going to work the previous day because what little I had eaten I was starting to throw up), I went to the Emergency Room.  For some reason, I had a feeling it was the Cymbalta that may be causing all of these symptoms.  I also thought that my thyroid might be imbalanced (I'm hypothyroid).  

Bingo!  I was correct about both.  I was experiencing the "if your depression gets worse, contact your physician" warning and all the side effects of the drug.  On top of that (due to my own negligence for skipping my previously scheduled blood draw for January), my thyroid numbers had almost doubled!

I am fortunate in that I was only on Cymbalta for 5 weeks when I discovered it was the cause to my literal withdrawal from society and myself. I am now in the process of detoxing from the drug which my doctor said is equivalent to coming off of a narcotic like heroin.  It is one of the worst medications to come off of and can take several months to be completely off of this drug and back to feeling like yourself again.  He said the withdrawal symptoms would be horrible - and he is not lying.  After hearing of the lengthy titration that has to happen to get off of this "poison", I began researching the withdrawal symptoms.  I finally felt like I wasn't alone in this battle!  So many people are having or have had the same exact experience that I have had and are also experiencing the same withdrawal symptoms!

I currently started my second week of detox on an outpatient program regime yesterday.  Last week was bad.  Here's what I've experienced so far:

• vertigo/dizziness - the room spins constantly
• nausea
• motion sickness (when in my wheelchair and moving)
• horrible headaches
• blurred vision
• hallucinations
• extreme fatigue
• hot and cold flashes
• clammy skin
• sweating profusely out of the blue
• sore muscles
• cramped legs - makes transferring in/out of my wheelchair extremely difficult
• impaired motor skills
• slurred speech (I sound drunk sometimes and it's so embarrassing!)
• stuttering (again, extremely embarrassing)
• constant buzzing in my ears
• high anxiety
• extremely emotional - from anger to crying
• loss of focus/attention
• irritability
• dry mouth

The majority of these are constant.  All day long.  Not to mention I have to factor in all the responsibilities I have with being paralyzed!!  Thankfully my doctor has taken me off work for the next several weeks and then we'll reassess at that time.  It's hard to do it all - deal with the withdrawal symptoms and the paralysis aspect and then to add work onto it?  I was floundering.  I still feel like I am.  Right now, however, I'm laying low and away from people for the most part.  I don't trust myself with the emotional swings, and the speech impairments are just plain embarrassing.  I get anxious if I have somewhere I have a certain time I'm supposed to be somewhere.  I'm also unable to multi-task as most women are experts at.  I can only concentrate on one thing at a time.  I take a lot of naps throughout the day as my body just can't stay awake.  It's a chemical imbalance that's going on and nothing I have control over.  These are just a few examples.

The hardest part about all of this is obviously the withdrawal symptoms, but also the fact that it's a chemical imbalance in my brain that I cannot control.  I am not me right now, and I'm not in control of the timing of when I'll be me again.  But, I do have comfort knowing there will be an end to these symptoms based on others' experience.  It just takes time.  

I write all of this out to warn people about the severe effects of this drug and the extreme withdrawals that come from trying to get off of it.  I also have learned and now encourage others to research all medications thoroughly before starting it.  Look for the pros, the cons, and the withdrawal symptoms.  Make sure it's right for you and don't always rely on a doctor to know what these new drugs do.  

Please pray for me as I continue my titration off of Cymbalta over the next several weeks and that the side effects would be minimal.  Also, please feel free to share this story with anyone you know who is going through depression or is on or considering taking Cymbalta.  There hasn't been enough research on the drug for it to be recommended to people, and I'm honestly not sure how it got approved by the FDA.

Depression hurts.  Cymbalta hurts worse.

(This has been my experience with this drug.  It may work for you, however educate yourself on the withdrawal symptoms.  Also, please recognize that this and all medications have side effects and need to be monitored by you and your physician closely - especially new medications.)

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. :)

A Day of Thanks... and Birthday's!

I have so much to be thankful for, and as we enter into November, I want to list some of what I'm thankful for throughout the month.

I am first extremely thankful for my faith in the Lord Jesus Christ and the patience that He exudes with me. I am thankful for my continued recovery and acceptance of life as it is, not as I would have it. I am thankful that I am able to take one day at a time and one moment at a time.

Today, I am extremely thankful for two very special people in my life who just so happen to have the same birthday - today - November 2nd!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The man who I love entered my life four years ago. It was unexpected, not planned, but definitely not coincidental. God definitely knew what He was doing that day on May 26, 2007. This man taught me about how to be loved, how to be okay with who you are, how to enjoy laughter, and how to honestly love football. He loves me for exactly the way I am (emotions and all), is a man of God, and is my best friend. I love watching him coach highschoolers and be passionate about what he does to the fullest. I am at every football game, cheering on the sidelines among the players, but moreso, I'm watching my love enjoy his job as a coach. I admire him for the patience he has, his calm demeanor, and the beautiful heart he has for others. I have seen him grow in the last four years to be an amazing man who has taken the time to listen, learn, seek, and love, and I hope to be lucky enough to spend many more years growing together with him. He is one of the funniest people I know. I love watching him impersonate certain people, watching Law & Order marathons with him, and having him come up from behind me and wrap his arms around me and kiss me on the neck. When he leaves me, he kisses me goodbye, but then he also tenderly kisses me on the forehead, which I adore. I enjoy hearing stories of when he was little and stories of his dad. I love his family. The first time I met them was at Thanksgiving 2007, and after dinner, I fell asleep on their couch. I was so embarrassed that I fell asleep but later was told it's a sign of "comfortableness" and was taken as a compliment. I love his son, even though he is not my own. I have loved watching him grow up since he was 11 years old, and my first time meeting him was when he, his dad, and I went to a hockey game together. I remember feeling honored that this man who I had just met a few months prior was willing to open his son up to meeting me. I miss watching his son play baseball as he is a phenomenal player (this was back in Little League), but I look forward to sitting in the stands and cheering on this now 15 year old as he takes on a new endeavor - lacrosse.

So, to this man that I love with all my heart, who I know would lay down his life for me, and who never says "if" you walk again, but "when"... to the man I watched get baptized and commit his life to the Lord, who watched me surf for the first time, and who encouraged me to compete for Ms. Wheelchair California, I say to my best friend, my support system, and my love, "Happy Birthday, Robert! I love you with all that is within me!" I hope to spend many, many more birthday's with you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The second person who's birthday is today is one of my best girl friends who God brought into my life a year ago. She is my opposite and an amazing accountability partner. She does not judge me for the things I've done wrong in my life, forgives without holding a grudge, and above all, has given me a friend who I can count on for anything at any time. Not only is she a woman of God, but she is knock down, drop dead gorgeous! She has a genuine heart for the less fortunate and specifically for those who are disabled (she is an occupational therapist), loves life, the outdoors, the sun, traveling, and frozen yogurt! Yum! :) Yes, she is my opposite, but she is also almost a twin. We understand each other, and when she's busy, working, or with her husband (who just so happens to be the white version of Robert! Ha!), a part of me feels like it's missing. She has a thirst for the Word, a passion for healing people through the gift that God has given her, and a generous spirit that will try anything once. I love her so much, and I'm so, so glad that she was born on this day as well. So to one of my best friends who I consider as close to a sister as one could probably get, I say, "Happy Birthday, Chrissie! I love you!"



I am so, so blessed to have two people who I love so much and that love me just as I am to be born on the same day! Happy Birthday Robert and Chrissie!

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. :)