The Year Of Me

The Year of Me.

This is what I titled this year. It sounds selfish, but it’s really not. It’s only been a year and a half since I almost died. By God’s grace, and only God’s grace, I’m standing here before you. I wished the process would move a whole lot faster, but like a wise friend once told me, “You almost died. You can’t except to bounce back to your same bubbly self so quickly.” It has been a year and a half. I think I should be all better. I think other people think I should be all better. They have less patience with me when I still have trouble getting my thoughts out, or when I walk slower. I guess mostly that is me transferring my impatience with the slow healing onto others.

I had ambitions before my accident that 2 years after college, I would have paid off my student loans and be getting ready to move overseas. I had it figured out that if things went as they were going, in 25 months I would be debt free and be financially able to support myself overseas. I guess God had different plans. I was living in Akron and then I had to move home. It just seemed like everything that was moving me forward closed down. And I even took a few steps back. Last year, after my accident—in the deepest part of recovery—I would never have considered going to Ukraine. There was just still a lot going on with me that I didn’t think traveling overseas as possible. God, though, kept opening doors, closing others and pushing me forward. I have no idea why but God seems to want me to go and isn’t just opening doors he’s flinging opening the doors and removing any barrier that I place in the hopes of slowing things down.

The year of me.

This year, I decided to pick one or two things and excel, rather than commit to a lot of things and not be able to follow through. I chose being a Jr. High youth group leader and being the nurse at Mansfield Christian. I think I did those well. The extra energy I did have was put into my healing—driving, swimming and managing my fatigue. I’ve seen God do some remarkable things already, and we are only halfway through 2018.

Also, in this journey, I’m striving to know Jesus more personally. John Eldredge writes, “What is missing in our Gospel reading—in our attempts to “read” what Jesus is saying and doing in own lives right now, this week—is his personality, undraped by religion”.

If you read the Gospels with an eye out for his personality, you realize that he’s playful, sassy, cunning, and fierce. You can kinda make sense of some of the things he does, because you know his personality. A couple things I have already learned in this year I’ve titled, “The Year of Me and Jesus”.

  • Jesus is creative and playful. I mean think about it. He made the wind, music and flying squirrels. How creative do you have to be to think up flying squirrels? Laughter is from God also. Think about the story of Abraham and Sarah. They were in their 90’s, and God told them to expect a child. Sarah laughed, and I’m sure Abraham joined in because it seemed impossible. They were old enough to be great-grandparents but God had a different plan for them. In the same way, Jesus was playful and loved laughter. In John 21, after he was buried, his disciples were fishing for hours and they caught nothing. Jesus sauntered out of the tomb and eventually onto the beach. He called out to them and suggested that they try to other side. They did, and the nets were teeming with fish. Jesus rose from the dead. He could have shouted, “It is me. I’m alive”, but instead he stands on the shoreline, hands in his pockets and asks, “Catch anything?” The story is made richer when you see the playfulness of Jesus.
  • Jesus is necessary for existence. “We need Jesus like we need oxygen. Like we need water. Like the branch needs the vine. Jesus is not merely a figure for devotions. He is the missing essence of your existence. Whether we know it or not, we are desperate for Jesus….To have Jesus, really have him, is to have the greatest treasure in all worlds. To have His life, joy, love, and presence cannot be compared. A true knowledge of Jesus is our greatest need and our greatest happiness.” John Eldredge. Some days, I can’t get through the day without Jesus’ help. I won’t say I’m glad for my accident because my life won’t ever be the same as much as I wish for it, but I am thankful for this season because it brought forth a dependence on Jesus that I never had and probably wouldn’t have had if not for my accident.

We are about half way through 2018, and I’m already blown away by the doors God has opened and the adventures he will take me on. In the next half of the year, I’m praying to become closer to God and understand more of his personality. I continue to pray that God uses my story and continues to change my heart as I’m impacted by the wonderful people of Ukraine.

How Beautiful are the Feet

«¡Qué hermoso es recibir al mensajero que trae buenas nuevas!»

How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!

I’m thinking about this. Feet are not pleasant at all. Now we are told beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news.

What makes their feet any more special?

I think it goes back to ancient times where there wasn’t anything like phones or internet. When a general won a battle, he would send a runner back to town to announce his win.

Think about the runner’s feet.

Dirty. Caked in mud. Sweaty. Bloody.

Not at all what we would think of as beautiful.

But to the townspeople, they were flawless because they bought news of a victory.

They couldn’t care less that they were dirty and bleeding. The news the runner brought was worth celebrating.

How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news. That phase has more meaning now when you think about the circumstances it was written in.

Now, it’s used in situations where someone is bringing the gospel or the good news to a community.

John Eldridge writes, “We need Jesus like we need oxygen. Like we need water. Like the branch needs the vine. Jesus is not merely a figure for devotions. He is the missing essence of your existence. Whether we know it or not, we are desperate for Jesus.” In that situation, we are in fact bringing good news, because if we need Jesus like we need oxygen or water. We are bringing them their life source as we know it.

May your feet be beautiful as you bring the good news of a savior to those near and far.

What Does It Mean To Survive?

“Life and living is the very definition of surviving. It is what the living do.

We survive.

In the absence of survival comes our death and so, when we survive, it is not the dreaded anchor around our necks. It is not some awful curse and sentence.“
Survival is the simple act of choosing to get up again—taking the next right step and breathing.

karaswanson's avatarKara Swanson's Brain Injury Blog

We hear the word all the time.  In this brain injury community, especially, we toss it around and heap it and don it.    Survive.  Survivors.  TBI survivors….

I was wondering how it is that so many of us feel so blessed and gifted of this life after injury while so many feel so cursed and struck down.

Is it simply a matter of severity of injury?

I think part of it, at least, has to do with how we view what it means to survive.  What our own definition of it is and how that evolves over time.

Think of your own situation…What words and phrases come to mind when you think about surviving TBI?

I hear from so many survivors and, for many, the term “survived” is personalized, surrounded by and thrust into a tangled mess of phrases that include, “Got stuck with,” “End up dealing with,” “I lost…,”…

View original post 697 more words

100 Days To Brave

“Courage is doing things even when you’re scared”. -Annie F. Downs

This summer is going to be hard and scary but oh so holy as I try to return to hospital nursing, speak in front of people and tackle two new countries. I don’t know what God has planned, but I do know it will be amazing as I strive to be brave in expectation. I just have to take it one step at a time.

I decided to go on this journey of 100 days to brave. I am 14 days into it, and I’ve already learned so much about myself.

  1. My bravery inspires others. “Because when we are brave enough to share the God stories in our lives, it changes the people around us. It changes us to share them.” It’s therapeutic for me to process what God’s doing in my life as so much is happening right now, so I end up posting about it. Then I find out from other people it’s been encouraging to them also. It’s like a ripple effect. Bravery and perseverance in one person’s life inspires it in another person’s and on and on. Seeing other people be brave inspires bravery in others.
  2. I’m braver than I know. I look back on the things people point out that they view as me being brave, and I pause. Those were moments that I didn’t consider myself brave at all. I was just surviving, but to others looking in, I was doing the next right thing, saying the next brave yes. To others, I was brave even if I didn’t feel brave. It’s been hard, frustrating, painful, tearful, and lonely, but God has shown me when I look back, how he has orchestrated my brave decisions into a story that he is continually unfolding as I say the next brave yes.
  3. We need to call out the brave in each other. I think there is something special about putting brave decisions on display. Seeing brave acts inspires bravery in yourself and others. It may just be a post it note that reminds you of a time that you made a challenging decision, or a word that reminds you of a situation where you were brave. Maybe you share your story, and it reminds someone else of their story. They realize they were braver than they even knew. I think we need to celebrate the brave in each other because we can tack a pleasant emotion to a sometimes hard and scary thing. When you see brave, say so.
  4. I need to speak truth over myself. I’ve been notorious for speaking bad about myself. I’ve told myself “I’m not pretty enough.” “I’m not good enough.” “My mistakes define me—I mess up.” Those are lies…the God of the Universe, the One who is breathing life into my lungs, is full of love for me. When I choose to believe that and live into that, my insecurities are quieter, and my worries are lighter because I know and believe how God feels about me. It’s sometimes a daily choice—a moment by moment choice—to choose to believe what God says about me. I am loved. I am brave. Speak kindly to yourself because you’re doing the best you can.
  5. I need to love what I love and not be ashamed. When I first moved back to the States, I was about two years behind everyone else in what they liked. I had just discovered American girl dolls, but my peers had been through that phase and were onto makeup and boys. I always felt like I needed to do the “cool” thing rather than do the thing I loved. I needed everyone else’s approval because without it, I was this uncool weird kid from Africa who didn’t know anything about anything. It’s been a journey. I think, looking back, over the years, I wrestled heavily with this area. At times, I still wrestle with having the confidence to be the person I want to be or love the things I want to love. Annie F. Downs reminds us that bravery is giving yourself permission to do the thing you want to do or like whatever you want to like regardless if anyone else does. You are accepted by God—He’s the only one other than yourself that whose approval matters. I hope you learn to accept yourself as I am learning and striving to accept myself.

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.