A Journey to Confidence 

Posted on by fearlessatheart

Insecurity has been a struggle for me since I can remember. I grew up on the mission field so I was always  different. I looked different when I was in Africa, and I acted different when I was in America. When I was growing up, I wanted blue eyes and straight hair because that’s what all “Americans” had. 

When we moved back, I was in 6th grade. Middle school is confusing enough without changing continents. My identity was all messed up-I didn’t know where I belonged and fit in. I looked like my peers, but I felt different. I found myself laughing at things because others were laughing. I had no idea what was funny. I got really good at making it seem like I knew about a book or movie that everyone else knew. I wanted to belong, but I felt different.

I craved belonging. 

I ended up finding my identity in academics. I was good at school so I became the smartest I could be. I embraced the title of “smart girl” because that meant people were noticing me. I was a people pleaser. How people saw me would make or break an experience. I would always have makeup on, dress nice, and be put together. It was people’s opinion that mattered and I usually came up short. Someone was always prettier, more talented, and smarter than me. This carried over to college. In my relationships, I was overly concerned about how people saw me. I became afraid that they were only my friends because of pity-because I initiated it.

I was becoming more confident in myself and accepting the uniqueness of my soul. Last fall, a series of events caused my insecurities to be taken out and hung like laundry on a line-flapping around in the wind. I turned to God, letting Him romance me as the lover of my soul. I was in the process of taking the down and folding them as God whispered “You are loved. You are enough.”

Then, the accident happened. My life changed that day, not just physically but emotionally as well. My close friends rarely left my side. My relationship with them was more than just convenient, it was deep. They weren’t friends with me out of pity-they chose me. Some of them were even at Grant before I was transferred there. In the hospital, I had more pressing issues than my physical appearance. I didn’t care how I looked. Survival was the upmost priority. 

Now, I’m insecure about specific things, like how I walk and how I talk, but I don’t care as much what people think. My need to please others is minimal. I don’t do things just because people expect it of me. No is a bigger part of my vocabulary. My outfits of choice are shirts and athletic shorts, which show my scars. It’s weird, because of my brain injury, I don’t know where I fit in the world anymore, but I’m more secure in myself-in what makes me Sara Beth. Life is short and my energy is limited so I choose to put my energy in things I’m really interested in. I had so many plans of how my life would go and then, they vanished after the accident. I am starting to get glimpses of the possibilities, which encourages my soul. 

It’s still a journey to a confidant me. Each day is better than the last. It requires so much bravery to love myself just as I am-all my quirks and faults. I’m learning to see myself as God sees me-a beautiful, smart, and loved daughter of the King.

Solitude 

Posted on by fearlessatheart

Solitude.

That word holds some stigma.

Loneliness. Seclusion. Desert. Backwoods.

When I returned from rehab, I had not been alone alone for several months. I craved solitude. I craved space for my soul to breathe. 

I used to despise solitude. I didn’t exactly know what to do when everything was quiet, and I could only hear my soul. Sometime during college, I learned the art of quieting my mind-being alone with God.

Now, people make me tired. I crave solitude. I need to be alone to let my brain rest. It takes a lot of brain energy to process what people are saying, to think about what to say next, and actually saying it. 

Sometimes, it’s frustrating because I want to be around people, but my brain is not having it. It gets overwhelmed quite easily. Solitude allows me to be alone with myself-process what I’m going through.

At times, it is just me and Jesus, and I’m okay with that. He calms my fears and quiets my soul.

Surrender 

Posted on by fearlessatheart

Surrender.

That’s been a theme throughout this season. I have to surrender control. I need to give up my plans. This is definitely not how I pictured my life a year ago. I would be living on my own in Akron, working with my best friend, and figuring out how to do this whole adult life.

I didn’t figure a car accident into my plans or being unemployed for 8 months. I don’t think anyone plans for life to sideswipe them.

Surrender control.

I realize how little control I have. I’m a planner. I mean I had my whole college career planned out at my second advising meeting. It is scary to realize you are not in charge of how your life will go. It is frightening to give up control-to let go of your plans, but that’s what God asks of me. I thought I had this all figured out last summer. I didn’t know what would happen after graduation, but things are more uncertain now. Sometimes, it’s challenging just getting through the day.

In church, we sang My Heart is Yours by Kristian Stanfill.

“My heart is Yours

My heart is Yours

Take it all

Take it all

My life in Your hands”

These lyrics really stood out to me. I can’t sing those lyrics, and not believe them. My life is in God’s hands-God’s perfect, caring hands. If I’m letting go of control, it is into capable hands. It’s terrifying surrendering control. It takes a lot of bravery to surrender control. It takes a lot of courage to continue to put one foot in front of the other when you have no idea what is coming.

The thing I cling to is that God is good. If he chooses not to heal me (because I believe He can), it’s about the bigger picture. It’s about God’s plan of love and redemption. So this life is not about me, it’s about God.

 

When God is big

Posted on by fearlessatheart

Something about mountains makes you feel so small.

They remind you of the bigger picture—that God is good and in charge of the world. It puts life into perspective. When all you have to focus on is your problems, they seem so big—so overwhelming.  But when you look at the mountains, you realize that you make up a small aspect of this big world. Your problems are only a blimp in the radar that is life.

Recently, I went to Seattle. Being in the mountains, my soul was able to breathe. I remember I felt this way last summer when I went to Montana. I had just taken my NCLEX. A lot of things where uncertain, but looking at those magnificent mountains, I knew God has everything under control. I realized the bigness of God and the smallness of me.

I got the same feeling when I took in the mountains this summer. God is bigger than a brain injury, and it took looking at the mountains for that to sink in. It is not about me, it is all about Him. I play a small role in adventure called life. When I focus on all my problems, it becomes all about me. I think, “Why me? This isn’t fair.” But, when I take in the mountains, I figure out that this situation is about more than just me. I get a glimpse into the big picture.

Something about mountains puts life into perspective. You realize that the God who created the grandiose mountains cares about your thoughts and desires. This God holds your heart in his hands. He cares about your struggles. You don’t have to do it all by yourself. You may be small and overwhelmed by your seemingly big problems. But God is bigger than any problem. God is bigger. When I see the mountains, I picture my problems as big as them. God holds my problems in his hands. He picks up those mountains as if they are nothing.

Looking at the grandness of the mountains, I knew, in my soul, that God holds everything in his hands. He has a plan for my life. I just have to put my life in His large and capable hands.

Looking at the mountains, my soul was able to breathe because it finally sunk in that God is bigger than any problem I faced. The pressure was lifted from my soul because God had control.

10 Things I Wish My Doctor Had Told Me About Mild Traumatic Brain Injury (mTBI)

Posted on by fearlessatheart

csequoia's avatarThe Foggy Shore

0215100954brainconcussion1. You can’t push through.  Regardless of how strong or tough or determined you are, you can’t bully you’re way through recovering from an mTBI.  I know you’re going to try, but you will save us both a lot of time if you didn’t.

2. Rest.  I mean completely rest.  Stop work, stop TV, stop looking at your phone. Just sit on a couch, pet a cat, and stare out the window.  I know it’s inconvenient, I know you can’t afford to, I know you don’t have time… but you will really really regret it if you don’t.

3. You need help.  Like – significant help – in every aspect of your life.  You might not think you do, you might not know you do… but you do.  Trust me on this one.

4. Your easy social life and party days are over.  Loud noises, bright flashing lights, even regular fluorescent lights – all those things…

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Choose Joy

Posted on by fearlessatheart

I lost my joy. I am not ashamed to admit it.

A couple weeks ago, I realized that I wouldn’t return to floor nursing as soon as I thought. I could push to return, but it wouldn’t be smart to rush my healing. It hit me hard.

Like really hard.

I picture floor nursing as normal. That, in my head, was the defining factor of being a nurse. That’s what everyone I graduated with is doing. However twisted or false the thought was, I thought floor nursing makes someone a nurse. I hadn’t even been a nurse, a floor nurse, for 6 months.

I lost the will to fight. I thought, “If I can’t be normal, why even try.”

The only reason I made it this far was that I was a fighter. If I couldn’t do something, I would try again until I got it. I was determined.

So when I lost the will to fight, I got more irritable and grumpy. I used the word “stuck” in reference to staying in Mansfield. I lost my joy.

I wrote things because I know I used to believe it or I should believe it, but I didn’t. I hoped by writing them, they would sink into my heart.

I keep saying I won’t be normal again. I wasn’t normal before my accident. I grew up in Africa so that makes me different. Normal is overrated anyway. I won’t be the same Sara I was before my accident, but I’m still Sara. I may have different strengths and hardships, that is inevitable, but I’m alive. I am still making progress. My rehab doctor says it takes about two years for the brain to fully heal.

I’m only 6 months into a 24 months period. I have made a ton of progress, but I still have a long way to go.  

Today, I decided to fight. I gained back my will to fight. My brother says, “Those who say they can and those who say they can’t are both right”. If I have the attitude that I won’t do it, then I won’t return to floor nursing. And maybe I won’t return, but at least I’ll go down fighting.

So I’ve decided to choose joy. Joy is not happiness. Joy is not an emotion, it’s a choice. Joy is believing that God is in control and that God is good. It is to base your joy on something that is eternal.

I choose joy. I’ve decided to get my joy back.

Especially when it’s hard, I need to choose joy. It will not always be easy to choose joy. It is easier to sit in my bed, moping about the fact that I won’t return to floor nursing as fast as I hoped. But, that is not beneficial to me or the people around me.

That doesn’t mean I’m always happy. This is definitely not how I pictured my life going. There are plenty of times where I yell at God, and wondering why me.

I choose joy because regardless of how I feel, I know that God is good. I just lost sight of that for a moment.

Even when it feels so far away, I choose joy.

Joy and Suffering

Posted on by fearlessatheart
  1. This has been a tough year for the Walthour family, and it is only June.

I almost died in an accident. I should have died, but God, in His mercy, decided that it wasn’t my time. They didn’t completely know the extent of my injuries, but they are hopeful for a full recovery. My youngest brother is in the hospital because he almost died from an infection. The doctors have no idea why or how he got it, or even what it is. He is weak but he is alive.

Needless to say, suffering is a common thread through our family. Joy and suffering. Those two words are complete opposites. James 1:2 states, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds”. How can you have joy in suffering? I am still wrestling with that question. The truth I cling to is that God is good. He must have a purpose for all this. Even when I have bad days, I hold onto that.

I am not always joyful. My family can attest to that, but even in those moments when joy seems so far away, I aim for Christ. I aim for His will. As followers of Christ, we are not entitled to a suffering free life. We should not be surprised by suffering, but we should plan on experiencing some. Jesus suffered, so why should we expect not to. 1 Peter 4:12 says, “Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal among you, which comes upon you for your testing, as though some strange things were happening to you.”

God is good. Even though I go through suffering, I see God’s faithfulness. I am able to have joy in God’s faithfulness to care for my soul. I think that is where my joy comes from. I see His faithfulness, even in the hard moments-especially in those moments. When I can’t do it by myself, He provides the strength to move forward.

I see His love in every moment, if only I look for them. I don’t want to be back in Mansfield. To be living at home. I was excited about living on my own-making my own way in the world.

While this is not what I would have chosen, I see God’s love in the unexpected. In the quiet moments, when I doubt God’s plan for the next step, He whispers, “Trust me. I’ve got a beautiful plan for you.”

I trust Him. He is writing my story, and He never leaves me alone in it. When I heard that BJ was being life flighted to Nationwide, I was scared-scared that I would lose my baby brother. God wrapped me in His arms and gave me this supernatural peace. He calmed my fears.

Joy and suffering. I’m still wrestling with what that means, but I do know one thing. Suffering makes me a little more like Christ.  If I can share, to other people going through the same thing, the way God helped me wade through it, then the suffering has a positive spin later. If it points to Christ, then it’s worth it. I can have joy in that.

Holding God’s Hand In The Darkness

Posted on by fearlessatheart

Have you ever wondered what God was like?

I have. Many times.

Through this season, I’ve grown closer to God. I’ve clung to God when there was no one else to cling to. I’ve clung to the truths that have been engrained in me since I was a young child. I don’t how people go through hard times without God.

I’ve seen a different side of God these past couple of months. I’ve always known God loves me, but I truly have experienced His love in a new way. Suffering brings me to the arms of the One who holds my heart in His hands. He wipes my tears away, and meets me in the middle of my fears. He is not afraid of the mess of my life.

I can’t explain it, but God seems closer to me.  This situation is hard and heartbreaking. It will be a long time before I’m back to normal, if I get back to normal. I need Christ to get through the day. I simply need Christ. This God, the One that wraps me in His grace, seems to know what I’m thinking before I do. When I couldn’t find the words, He understood me. He hears my cries.

On my hard days, He wraps me up in His arms and stays close. He whispers, “I love every fiber of your being. I love every scar, every seeming imperfections”. I have seen God’s hand as he continued to push me out of my comfort zone and fill me with life—incredible blessings as I step out in faith. He is the Creator of the Universe. The God who painted the colors of the sunset, and who drew the freckles on my nose. The One who moved the mountains rock by rock and who designed the intricacies of the human body. The One who continually seeks my heart even when I am difficult. And He loves me.

During this hard season, where all my insecurities rose to the top of my soul, God romances my soul.

He seeks me as the lover of His heart. I am not perfect. I am learning to see myself as He sees me.

I am learning to let Him love me. I am learning to accept His love.

God’s Faithfulness 

Posted on by fearlessatheart

I get to tell you of God’s faithfulness. Last fall, I was living the dream. I was just starting out on my own. I got my first job as a nurse. I was figuring out how to do this whole being an adult thing. I thought I had life kind of figured out.

In December, I was simply visiting my best friend in Ashland and planning her wedding. On Saturday, December 17th, I was heading home for a short time. It was foggy and icy. I don’t know what exactly happened, but I turned in front of another car on St. Rt. 30. I was hit on the left side, and it’s a miracle that I survived. The car was totaled, and I sustained several major injuries. My left ankle and pelvis were shattered. My bladder was ruptured, and I also had a brain injury. I was taken to Medcentral and ultimately transferred to Grant Hospital in Columbus. I had surgery on my leg, pelvis and bladder.

On the scan they did in the Emergency room, they saw damage on my liver and spleen. Since they were already opening me up to repair my bladder, they checked my liver and spleen. There was nothing on them! One of the many miracles God did. It was touch and go for a while. My parents didn’t know how extensive my brain injury was or if I would qualify for rehab. I did qualify for rehab, and I only spent 3 weeks in rehab. Slowly, but surely, I am getting better. I still have a long way to go, but I’m making progress.

I didn’t plan on this season but I’ve seen God move in every area. I am reading this book titled “Detours” by Tony Evans. The thing about detours is they are inconvenient, unwelcome, time-consuming, and surprising, but you still get where you are going. This season is a detour. I had so many other plans, but I’m here now. I could choose to have an attitude of discontentment, of anger, and of frustration, or I can choose to be content where I am and look for joy in the apparent chaos. I’m learning to trust God more. Last summer, I worried about getting a job, passing my NCLEX, and finding an apartment. Those now seem trivial because God spared my life. Recovery could have gone so differently. It is going to take a long time, but they are hopeful for a full recovery.

I met Jesus years ago as a tiny tot, but the relationship has ebbed and flowed over the years. Recently, as I sought him more deeply, I discovered his heart for people and me. Through this season, I am learning to seek Him more deeply. In my insecurities, in my imperfections, in my anxieties, and in my weariness, I am learning that I am enough. I didn’t have to be perfect to earn His love.  I could just be me with him. I realized that my insecurities were lies that Satan had pushed to the forefront of my mind to distract me from who I was and where I was going. I allowed him to distract me. I allowed him to feed me the lies that I began to believe about myself and my future. I allowed him to steal my happiness until God sought me out and reminded me where I belong.

Somehow, in my distance, God continued to remind me that I am his beloved. His Beloved. Those are words that have been spoken over me my entire life.  I know what the words mean in my head, but it has been a struggle to truly know the words as they are written on my heart. Recently, as I allow the truth of God’s word to diffuse over my soul, He has whispered the words “You are loved” over and over again. You are loved in your imperfections—because I am perfect. You are loved in your weakness—because I am strong. You are loved in your fears—because I am the Prince of Peace. You are loved in strengths—because I created you in my image. As I sought my Savior, I allowed the depth and reality of his actions on the cross to remind me of the breath of his love for me. I do not deserve God’s unwavering love, but I am learning to accept it and allow his opinion to dictate my actions.  Slowly, I am learning not to let my insecurities hold me back from being brave. I have many people around me—supporting me—but in my head, it’s only me and Jesus.

Recently, I came across a blog that I had written before graduation when everything was uncertain. In it, I wrote, “Uncertainly, I approach the feet of the God who orchestrates my life. I lay my ready made plans at His feet. Tattered and worn from being pulled out and constantly reworked to fit my needs, they clatter to the ground. My hopes. My plans. My dreams. My future. Trust me. He whispers as He gathers up my well-organized plans in his arms. I watch as He takes my dreams and plans and puts them aside. Trust me. I have a plan for you. I offer an uncertain yes.”

I don’t know what the future hold, but I have to trust that God is good and His plan for me is ultimately good.

Let’s Be Wild

Posted on by fearlessatheart

I was self-conscious before, but now I am really self-conscious. I feel like my voice sounds weird, weirder than normal. I feel people staring at me when I walk. I must look embarrassing because I feel really awkward. When I try to write, it is difficult. I perceive my scars are blatantly obvious, like they are flashing lights on a billboard.

I struggled with insecurity since I could remember. Before my accident, I was beginning to get a handle on my insecurities. I was beginning to let God’s love diffuse through my soul, erasing my insecurities. Now, I am really learning what it means to not compare myself to others.

I have a lot to be insecure about now. I have several scars. I don’t walk normally yet. My speech is understandable, but it is not back to where it was. I am insecure about everything, it seems like. 

But, I am learning to see myself the way God sees me.

I am learning that I can’t change who I am. I can’t change my scars or my limitations. The stuff that I am insecure about makes me—Sara Beth. I can accept myself-my scars, my limitations-and allow God to be glorified.

I shouldn’t be insecure about what God created. If I frown on what God has created, it’s like a smack in God’s face.

Through this season, I am learning what makes me—Sara beth. I am diving into who God made me and striving to not focus as much on my insecurities.

I am choosing to be wild. Not wild as in acting crazy, dressing unique, and rebelling against society. Wild as in the living and growing in the natural environment.

It’s going to be hard, but I am deciding not to listen to what the world says. So, I choose to listen to who God says I am. I let God diffuse over my insecurities and my fears. Considering all I’ve been through, it is not surprising that my insecurities are rising back to the surface. I can choose to focus on them, or on the One who put the stars in place.

I am trying not to care what other people think about me. It is a progress of throwing off the things that I have believed my whole life and putting on who God says I am.

Yes, I have scars but they are proof that I survived. I am a survivor and that is something to be proud of.

Yes, I walk awkwardly. I get looks when I walk. People ask me if I need a wheelchair, but at least I can walk. There was a point that my parents didn’t know what would happen to me.

Yes, I have difficulty speaking. My rate is slower. My voice sometimes sounds nasally. I don’t put enough emotion behind my words. At least, I can talk.

I might have insecurities, but at least, I am alive.

So, I am deciding to be wild.

I am choosing to accept myself just the way I am-my looks, my fears, my limitations. I am choosing to be bold in the pursuit of what I like-what I am passionate about.

Let’s be wild.

Let’s throw off the expectations of society. Not because we don’t care about them, but because we don’t need to care too much about them.