My Story: God’s Story

My story.

Before when people would ask me to share, I would be terrified—I never knew what to say, or how they would react.

Now when people ask me about my accident, I don’t mind talking about it. In telling my story, I get to tell everyone of my God who puts the stars in the night sky.

This story is about hardship and trials, but also about a God that holds me close. He wraps me in his arms and whispers in my ear, “I love you, child”.

In being His child, I’m not promised a life of ease, but He says that He will be right next to me and hold me through it. Even in the hard days—the days where it takes everything within me to get up—I see the threads of grace that God has woven into my story.

The threads He has woven into my story speak of a God who holds me when I cry but puts people in my life that understand that but don’t let me wallow in it. They speak of people that celebrate the small victories that we often take for granted like walking up stairs.

Then, it becomes His story.

His story of grace, of life, and of peace.

My accident—a year and almost 5 months ago—will forever be a milestone. It will be a time that I look back on and say “if God can do that, then He surely can do this smaller thing.”

It’s my story, but it’s also His story.

The Great I AM

I was thinking the other day about God and how it’s pretty incredible that he created people and languages. The incredible thing is that He hears and understands everyone in every language. One of my favorite moments ever was in the Dominican Republic. We were sitting on the beach watching the sunset, and we eventually started singing. We sang “Great I AM”. It was one of the coolest moments because some us were singing in English and some in Spanish our voices mingling.

God heard and understood every single one of us.

He is the great I AM.

Languages are fascinating. As a missionary kid, I learned the importance of learning whatever language is dominant because that speaks to people’s heart. It’s one thing to know the trade language, but to have people communicate in your first language—the language of your heart—is powerful. It means these people and maybe this God loves me enough to come to me and meet me where I am.

God loves us enough to meet us where we are and the more we know about Him makes us love Him more.

There’s a song sung by Kari Jobe that states:

“The more I seek you

The more I find you

The more I found you, the more I love you

I wanna sit at your feet

Drink from the cup in your hand.

Lay back against you and breath, feel your heart beat

This love is so deep, it’s more than I can stand.

I melt in your peace, it’s overwhelming”

The more we seek our Creator who loves us enough to speak our heart language, the more we fall in love with Him.

This might mean setting aside time in your busy schedule to slow down and meet with Him.

This might mean skipping something that could be good, in order to sit at the feet in prayer of the One who placed the stars in the sky.

Whatever this means for you, I greatly encourage you to seek the Great I AM. You won’t regret it.

School Nursing and Little Humans

So I’ve been a school nurse for about a year. It wasn’t anywhere in my plans, but God knew I needed this in this season. Here are a few things I have learned on this journey so far.

  1. Littles are honest and unbiased. They don’t care who you are, and they love you unconditionally. I had one girl just come in my room for a hug. It’s moments like those when I’m reminded of the soft hearts of littles and fact that they need nurturing on all fronts.
  2. Just because it’s not what you pictured yourself doing doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter. At the beginning of the school year, I sat in my office, hearing all the hopeful voices, and I felt deep down in my spirit that this was where I was meant to be. It was nothing like I pictured a year ago. This was the perfect job for right now because it allowed me to still practice nursing without all the stimulus and fast pace of hospital nursing. It gave me lots of little successes that boosted my self esteem rather then tear it down with everything I knew I used to be able to do and now can’t.
  3. Never underestimate the power of a smile and listening ear. Half the time, littles are in my office for a short span of time, but they just need to know someone is listening and cares. I treat their pressing ailment and send them back to class with the option that if they can’t do it, they can always come back to the clinic. Often knowing they have that option reassures them, and they are good for the day. Sometimes, the older humans just need someone to smile at them and tell them everything is going to be alright.
  4. Littles give the best hugs. I definitely think in this season of my life, I needed to hear that I’m needed and wanted. After something traumatic happens, you start to doubt yourself and wonder if you’re still a valuable member of society. Being at MCS showed me that I’m still valued as a human being and nurse. My opinion is still wanted and unique. I may not know everything, but I’ll learn. Recently, I had a birthday, and I was sung to by 3 different classes. It made me feel so loved by this community—this community of littles and teachers that know and love me fiercely. My heart simply melts every time I hear a little voice say “Miss Walthour”, see those bashful smiles, or receive those timid hugs.

Yes, it’s definitely not as fast paced as hospital nursing, but just as impactful on lives.

Blessings and Birthdays

23.

23 was a great year-new places, re-acquaintances, new friends, spectacular adventures, and new passions.

There has been some good things and some not-so good things about 23, but we can’t have the good without the bad.

23 has been an adventure as I learned more about what it means to be a woman after God’s heart and continued to heal. We are 4 months into 2018, and I’ve seen God do some amazing things! I’ve discovered things that I used to be able to but now can’t, but I’ve also stumbled across new things that I’ve fallen in love with.

-I think my water skiing days are over as well as my riding roller coasters days.

-I knew I loved kids, but older humans were different. Now, I’m thinking about pursuing rehab nursing which will be majority people over 50. Older humans are precious and often overlooked. Their vast knowledge and stories captive me.

-Even the idea of pursuing rehab is a change. I never would have thought I possibly could love it before, but now, who knows.

-I’m seeing the need for authentic vulnerability and education in the world of traumatic brain injuries. I have always thought about the possibility of writing a book, but now I have a pretty incredible story to share.

These are just a few of the thoughts that have been bouncing around in my head the past couple of months. This year has taught me:

-I am strong because I survived something that could have killed me, and I have the scars to prove it.

-God is closer than my very thought. He hears my silent cries and the feelings that I don’t put into words.

-God can take the seemingly endless tragedy and turn it into a tool to bring him glory. He uses the whole of the story.

-The questions about God’s goodness and the doubt are not things that I should be ashamed of, rather I need to give myself permission to wrestle with those questions-and God himself. Doubt is not in and of itself a bad thing, we just can’t wallow in it.

-You can’t have the good things without the bad—they are a package deal. In being vulnerable with someone, you risk being rejected or it not working out, but sometimes that risk is worth it, even if that happens. You treasure the goodness—the sweet moments—regardless of what the outcome may be.

Tomorrow I turn 24. Here’s to another year and more adventures as I strive to discover the heart of God for the world and me. May this be the best year yet as I add more countries to my passport, and know God more intimately.

Planting and Establishing Roots

So a friend and I are delving into planting and growing things. In her research, she came upon the fact that you shouldn’t water plants as often. Letting them dry out a little encourages them to grow deeper roots. Dry spells can actually encourage growth and flourishing. It seems counterintuitive that a dry season can inspire depth in your relationship with God.

It’s like God is bringing you around to the same thing but not the exact same thing because he wants to take you deeper. You can handle that trial better than you could have a year ago because God has taken you deeper since then—deeper into His Presence and love. Dry spells encourage you (if you choose) to cling to the One who created your heart. You will have to go deeper and search for the living water but it’s there.

Dry spells are needed just like seasons.

So if you’re heart is weary and the air around you is dry, cling to the One who holds your heart in His hands and find rest. He just might be pulling you deeper.

When God Says No

As christians, we offer the cliche, “If God shuts a door, He opens a window.” This is true, but how do you keep going in the meantime? How do you wrestle with the fact that God said no to this seemingly good thing? How do you still manage to believe that God’s plan is still good?

These are some of questions that have been rattling around in my head. How do we handle the fact that all of our dreams come crashing to a stop? How do we reconcile that with a good God? I don’t have a theological answer for you. All I have is my own musings and things people have said to me, so take it with a grain of salt and research this for yourself.

I was watching a video clip by Inky Johnson. If you’re like me and had no idea who this person is, he is a former football player who was 8 games away from the NFL draft when his world was rocked. In a normal tackle in a game, he ended his football career at the University of Tennessee with an injury that permanently paralyzed his right arm. Johnson went on to study psychology and is now a motivational speaker at schools, community centers and ceremonies throughout the United States. He stresses multiple times, how important the process is, not simply the product that you have in your life.

Right after my accident, I wished it never happened—that my life would go back to the way it was before because it was good. I wished that my scars would disappear because I was embarrassed by them—they looked weird. Now though, I don’t wish the accident never happened because I’m a stronger person because of it. I’m more empathetic towards people, and I’m a better nurse because I actually have been there. I have a crazy and incredible story of how God saved me. I’m no longer embarrassed by my scars when people notice them, rather I’m kinda proud of them. They are physical signs that I survived something meant to break me. I wish they would be a little less obvious but they are talking points. When someone asked what happened, I can tell God’s story.

So I don’t really know what to do immediately after God says no to something that could have been good. To be completely honest, I’m still wrestling with that. Some days I’m perfectly capable of seeing the good things that have come out of this season, and other days, I wallow in my pity party because I look at others, and they have the life I could have and would have been living. I do know this though, in time, God sometimes reveals why He took us down that detour. We just stand there, simply in awe that God would use a terrible thing like an accident and turn it into a part of His bigger story of redemption.

I’m in awe of God, and how He would use someone as insignificant as me to show His glory though.

This is God’s story, and I’m just the lucky one that gets to tell it.

Slow down

God often doesn’t use flashing lights or billboards. I wish he would. It would make figuring out His Will simply cut and dry. Most often than not, He speaks in a still small voice. I can often miss it because I’m too busy.

I need to slow down and notice the beauty in the seemingly insignificant things. God literally stopped me. After my accident, I’m forced to take life slowly. I need rest aka I can’t function on little energy for long periods of time. My energy level is like a colored coin jar which I keep taking coins from without refilling it until it’s empty. I’m getting better at pacing my energy.

As my brain is healing, I have this extra energy, and I want to do everything. I try to do everything, and I fall on my face. I’m learning that I need to be more intentional with where I put my energy. I need to stop running in place where I get tired but go nowhere. Rather, I need to learn how to walk slowly—it will take longer to get where I need to, but I’ll eventually get there.

This is so hard to put into practice. I want to say “yes” to everything, but stop when I think about what my best yes would be. What are those one or two things that I can give my whole energy to rather than scattering pieces here and there so no one is satisfied.

This lesson of slowing down is one that I am forced to learn because when I hit a wall emotionally, I am no good to anyone. I am learning to pace myself even in things that I enjoy—not speed through it, but slow down and savor the moments. This is a lesson that is good for everyone to learn no matter where you are in life.

It seems counterintuitive, but when we slow down we actually get more done, and we do it well. If I go, go, go, I’m more likely to make a simple mistake. But if I move slowly, I take time to think about the action and have time to relish in the accomplishment of the finished project. Thus, I ultimately get more done because I pace myself.

I’m reminded of the fable, The Tortoise and The Hare. The hare was definitely faster, but he got proud and boastful. He started off really fast and he took a short break because he got tired. The tortoise was slower, but he didn’t care what anyone else thought and just kept moving.

He ended up winning the race.

Slow and steady wins the race.

I desire to be like the tortoise-moving slowly, but still moving forward.

Stepping Out In Faith

My head spins as I lay in bed, trying to sleep-attempting to push the worry out of my head.

I admit that I am a recovering chronic worrier. Most of the time, I struggle with handing over the reigns of my life to God because I like control too much. Hence I worry about things that are out of my control. I tend to drive myself a little crazy with the constant worrying, but I have a hard time shutting it completely off.

Simply the thought of not having control sent my soul into a panic because my default setting is to rely on my own strength.

Selfishly, when things didn’t work out the way I specifically thought it would, my carefully placed plans in my head caved down around me.

I do not have the control I thought I did. Looking back, it all seems really ridiculous because I had nothing to worry about. God had it all worked out, but I believed that I had to have everything figured out to be successful.

I love to plan. I breathe a tiny bit easier when my schedule is organized and I know what is coming next. I want to believe that I am flexible, but the reality is that I strive for order in the chaos and knowing over the unknown. I am the girl who had the rest of her college classes figured out during her first advising meeting. I arranged and organized a plan for after college that I believed was God’s plan for my life. I had everything all figured out-where I would work, where I would like and what I would be doing with my life. I had this plan in my head and I dismiss anyone and everyone who told me different. Looking back, I realize that I acted ridiculous What person in their right mind picks a path and refused to acknowledge any other options.

But God had a different plan.

Not for lack of trying, my plan did not appear to be making any process.

Nothing was happening.

Frustrated, I wondered why God was denying me what I thought I wanted-why He wasn’t moving the way I wanted him to. Consistently, people reminded me that maybe I should begin to move towards other areas—areas where the door did not appear to be shut. Stubbornly, I resisted their advice, arguing that I could make it happen. A wise friend reminded me that God does not usually express His will through flashing signs, lit up to show us the direction he wants us to go. He often lets us make decisions and moves and directs our path if we are heading in the drastically opposite direction. We simply cannot sit around waiting on Him to show up-some of the responsibility is on us to be faithful in taking action.

Eventually God challenged me to trust Him. He challenged me to let Him guide me. I simply needed to let go of my particular dreams and open my heart to listening to what he might have in store. As soon as I took that step-trusting that if it was the right step, God would move.

He did.

He moved in and showed me that He had control.

Terrified, I had to give up what I thought was my dream, but God has a bigger and better plan for my life. I cannot see the future, but all He is asking of me is to take the next right step.

Admittedly, I claimed to trust God, but I clung to a ridiculously small view of what I believed that He could accomplish in my life. He continues to burst out of the boxes I place Him in, repeatedly reminding me that He has everything under control.

Two years ago, He did more in 2 days than I could accomplish in 2 months. He eradicated my fears and doubts by reminding me that I cannot see the big picture. I only see snippets of what He is doing in my life. In 48 hours, I had passed my NCLEX, gotten a job, and found an apartment. Everything thing that I had stressed about, prayed about, and worried about months was resolved.

After all that, I left to explore the wild mountains of Montana. There is something incredible about standing on the side of the mountain—looking out over the land and other mountains. The mountains show both the creativity and wildness of God as they tower high above the world daring all to challenge their creator.

It is a healthy reminder of how small I am.

Now, I am faced with the same challenge-the smallness of me vs the bigness of God. Life right now looks nothing like I pictured it-I’m still struggling to accept that it’s no less good. It’s cliche, but I’m reminded that I just have to let go and let God.

Let God have control of my work.

Let God have control of my healing.

Let God have control of my emotions.

Let God have control of my future.

Last summer, God used the mountains of Washington to remind me of how small I was and how great He was.

Often in life, I begin to believe that I am the star of the story. Because I am human, I forget that my life is not all about me. Standing in the midst of the vast spaces and grandiose mountain reminds me of my smallness in the midst of the world.

Sitting in the midst of those mountains reminded me that everything that God does, He does for His glory.

He created me for His glory, thus my life should be about His glory, not my own personal gain.

All that is asked of me is to be faithful in the small things, trust Him and step into the big picture of His plan to redeem the world for His glory.

Springtime.

As the weather is getting warmer and the flowers

are popping up, God is reminding me of seasons.

Our lives are built in seasons. We all go through seasons of pain, growth, and contentment as well as seasons of adventures, happiness, and joy. Sometimes, it changes with nature. Other times, it doesn’t. You can go through 3 personal seasons before nature runs the course of 1, or one season can last forever.

We are entering the season of rain and flowers. But without the rain, there would be no green grass or flowers.

This is Holy week in the Christian faith-the week where we acknowledge Jesus’ last days on earth before He was crucified. He had to die before He could be raise up.

Seeds have to be buried in order for them to grow.

There are many things in life where the not so pleasant comes hand in hand with the joy.

I’m learning this lesson firsthand. It’s frustrating when things don’t cooperate—my hand doesn’t listen when I tell it to roll a ball at a target or my legs don’t cooperate when I tell them to jump or hop. But, after a bit of work (sometimes crying and quitting for a time), they start to listen and the joy my soul feels at being able to do something again is insurmountable.

As this year has done on, I’ve been able to check things off my list and feel more like a normal 23 year old.

—flew by myself…check!

—drove myself to coffee…check!

—swam…check!

These are just a few of the many things that make me feel just a little bit like my old self.

As the rains come, remember without a little rain, there won’t be flowers.

Spring is coming, just be patient.

Reflections and “me too”

This week has been a tough one, but one full of reflecting on my life.

God is good.

Life is messy.

This detour was not in my plan. The longer this detour is going on, the harder it is to cling to that fact that God is good.

A year ago, I wouldn’t have thought I would be here. I figured my life as I knew it was over. I embraced the label of disability. By God’s grace, I’ve made it this far, but it’s not without hard work.

The past 15 months have been hard, but the next year will be even harder. It’s going to be hard and exhausting work to get back to floor nursing, but it’s not impossible (as of now).

This week God reminded me that my story is valuable and needed.

My story is my story, but it’s also God’s story. God is the master storyteller.

Morgan Harper Nichols says it best in her song, “The Storyteller”:

The mountain where I climbed

The Valley where I fell

You were there all along

That’s the story I’ll tell

You brought the pieces together

Made me this storyteller

Now I know it is well, it is well

That’s the story I’ll tell

I shouldn’t be ashamed of my story or think that God can’t redeem or use it. When I believe that, I am greatly underestimating the grandness of His power.

I’ve been thinking about the power of “me too”. There’s something about being vulnerable and admitting “me too”. We don’t say it because we’re afraid that people will think less of us-that we destroy that perfect image in their head. The thing about being vulnerable is that there is a line to not cross. We shouldn’t air our dirty laundry under the guise of vulnerability, but also we shouldn’t be ashamed of what happened to us or what we have done if we have repented of our sins.

My story is valuable because God can use it to bring himself glory. My story points to God as my healer and hope. If I choose share about what God has done and is doing, God might use it in someone else’s life.

I just have to be faithful and say “me too”.