The Story I Never Wanted—and the Life I Now Love

December 17th.

It was the worst day of my life—the day I almost died. In all tangible facts, I shouldn’t have survived. I was broken, and life as I knew it would never be the same.

This anniversary is a big one—nine years. One of the ones that stands out. Because just when I think I’ve “overcome” the incident, something brings it back: a comment, a memory, or a TBI headache. It never feels far from reality.

But over these nine years, I’ve learned something that I want you to really hear:
The trauma you go through—whatever it is—is a part of your story, not your whole story.

When you’re in the thick of it, it feels like life will only ever be a shadow of what it once was. I’ve never been happier to be wrong. Nine years ago, I thought my life was over. I wondered who I would be if I wasn’t a nurse, if I wasn’t a “whole” person anymore. I thanked God for saving me, but if I’m honest, I also wondered why He did if I could no longer do everything I had planned.

Those early years were full of wrestling. But life slowly settled. I worked my butt off to get back to nursing—to get my life back. It took sleepless nights, encouragement, and a whole lot of stubbornness to reach anything that resembled “normal.”

And actually, I’ve come to dislike that word—normal. What even is that? My life now is far from what most would consider normal for a 31-year-old. I live with constant pain. There are days I can’t get out of bed because of a migraine or some other lingering affliction.

Do I hate that part? Absolutely.
Do I love what life has still given me—my empathy, my husband, my son? Without question.
And honestly, I’ve reached a place where I don’t wish the accident never happened.

These past nine years have taken me places I never would have gone—into deep valleys and onto unexpected mountaintops.

A few things I’ve learned along the way:

God can use even the hardest moments if we let Him.

I’m still blown away that He can take the worst moment of my life and somehow bring Himself glory. He shows up in ways I don’t understand, weaving my story into moments I never see coming. It may be my story, but ultimately, it’s His.

Here is worth living—the hard and the holy.

 Being present, right now, is the beauty of the present. Life is what you make it. And there is nothing like being recognized years later in your hometown for something good you did, or having people say they watched you walk through the shadows and come out the other side. People can be the greatest blessing.

God shows up-in the little and big things.

The simple fact that he allowed my life to be spared is a big thing. Now I don’t know what you all believe about God, so hear me with a grain of salt. Throughout my life but especially in the last 9 years. It never ceases to amaze me that God cares about the little things and provides glimmers of light on the hardest days. Glimmers of light such as a cool breeze on a hot day, a coffee from a friend, and a smile from a stranger. Life can get pretty hard sometimes, but God allows these glimmers to remind us of hope. 

December 17th will always mark the day everything changed.
But it’s also the day I began the slow climb toward a life that is hard—and somehow, one I love even more than the one I lost.

Halfway through 30

30 years. A new decade.

My 20s were full of life and hardship as I graduated college, became a nurse, shattered my body, and rebuilt my life.

I thought 30 would be a whole lot different than it is right now, but I wouldn’t have it any different.

I’m not where I thought I would be, but I have so much more. I think that’s life.

Maybe you are one of the lucky ones that life has gone entirely like you planned, I am so happy for you!

But maybe, life has thrown you some curveballs and you are not sure that you are okay with it.

I’ve been there. I get it. Life is tough sometimes, but even in that, life is sweet. 

You are probably thinking, “She’s crazy.”

Maybe I am, but I’ve learned in my short life, that there are sweet things in the middle of chaos.

Now don’t hear what I’m not saying. I’m not saying that it’s not hard-whatever your hard is-but I’m saying that sometimes wildflowers grow.

I’m 30. I have lived a lot of life in the past 30 years, but it has made me the person I am today. It sounds cliche but the hardest years of my life made me better than who I would have been.

I feel SO much.

I love hard.

It’s really hard for me to let go of things and people.

I understand what it’s like to claw your way back from nothing. 

I get it. Life is hard, but as I was reflecting I realized that while life is different than I thought it would be in my 30s, it’s more.

More love.

More empathy.

More peace.

More space.

More grounded.

I don’t know what my 30s hold, but I hope it’s full of more Jesus.

I don’t know where you are in life, but I hope you look for the wildflowers growing in the midst of your hard. Life is hard but holy. Remember that. There is holy in the ordinary.

The year of Enough

Enough.

That is my word for this year-this crazy and insane year. I chose to embody this word in whatever I did throughout the year, and man was it hard.

I chose to believe I was enough even when I needed to take antidepressants to help me cope with nursing in a pandemic. I don’t plan on being on them forever, who knows though, but they allow me to be the best friend, daughter, wife, sister, and nurse I can.

I chose to believe I was enough when real life clouds marriage and the rubber meets the road. We basically started out the year married so we are coming up on one year. It has been the best and hardest thing. We grew a lot and together but oftentimes, I had to choose to believe I was enough because I felt lacking. The key is choosing to see what can realistically be changed and needs to change and what is my brain lying to me.

I chose to believe I was enough when I didn’t get positive feedback on my work but I also didn’t get negative feedback. I chose to believe I was enough simply because I was enough.

I chose to believe I was enough when my brain says get overwhelmed and I need to rest. It doesn’t make me less than because I can’t do more, it just makes me more intentional about the time I do give to people. I’m learning that no one can do everything.

I chose to believe I am enough simply because I’m a daughter of the King. That being said, life is not always easy, but it is sweet if you choose to look for the light shining in. When life causes me to doubt that I just have to remember the truths.

  • God embraces emotions.
  • I am valued and loved.
  • God calls me beloved.
  • I am a child of God (John 1:12)
  • I am beautifully made (Psalms 39:14)
  • I am intelligent (Genesis 1:27)
  • I am loved (John 3:16)
  • I am enough

I’m just as enough with messy hair in my overalls as I was all dolled up in my wedding dress. I’m choosing to live into that every day, not simply the good brain days.

Here’s to the rest of 2021 and growing in confidence and experience. Here’s to believing I am enough, no matter where God has me put my anchor down.

Grace, upon Grace, upon Grace

Can I be honest?

I’ve been in a dark place. I didn’t want to admit that because life is seemingly good. I married my favorite person. I bought a house. We got a cat. I love my job (most of the time). I talk to/see my best friend on the regular. Life is good.

But hard.

They don’t tell you that even though you live together now, being on opposite schedules mean, you may not see much of your favorite person. 

Adulting is a lot of work-and you have to do the work even when you don’t feel like it.

Sean thinks so differently than I do, which in most cases it’s good because I’m glad he hasn’t experienced the same trauma I have.

PTSD stinks. I mean, you do the work. You’re able to stand on your own two feet again. You have a steady job and relationship. You think you’re good then WHAM. PTSD hits you upside the head and knocks you down. 

Depression makes you feel less than because it’s all of a sudden hard to get out of bed and find motivation to do even the simplest tasks.

We are in the middle of a pandemic that changed the way we do everything. 

Oh and add to it the guilt of not being okay when it appears that you should be happy. It stinks.

All in all, I’ve been managing with the help of trusted individuals and God. But I decided that I couldn’t process it by myself, so I started therapy again. It was with the same counselor that say me though the mire the first time so she’s familiar with my defense mechanisms. Only two sessions in and it wrecked me.

I finally put a name to the feelings of loss I was feeling after everything. I was preparing for everything to get ripped out from under me. What? Life was good and I was preparing for the worst.  After that session, I had to do the hard and exhausting work of sitting with all the emotions. Now that I’ve sat with them, felt them fiercely, and given them room to breathe, I can do the even harder work of changing my thoughts. 

Here’s to not being okay, but I’m in a better place than I was yesterday. Here’s to giving myself grace when my traumatized self hurts the people I love. I have broken pieces but I’m doing the hard work of letting Jesus patch me together like only He can.

Follow Me.

Recently, I was studying Mark 1.  In this section, Jesus is calling the fishermen to be his disciples. Mark 1:17 states, “ Then Jesus said to them, ‘Follow Me, and I will make you fishers of men.” It struck me because God’s simple command is to follow him, right here, right now. I think we make it complicated in our romanticizing of missions and “going”. We figure if you receive “the call”, you have to be going somewhere exotic to tell people about Jesus. That aspect of the call is honest more exciting, but what about the community you are placed in? The people in your scope of influence? Don’t they need Jesus also? Why are they seemingly sidelined in the hopes of the more extraordinary option of going to say Africa and “saving” people?

I’m guilty of this-oh so guilty.

Growing up, my life was missions so I glorified it in my own mind. I wouldn’t have ever said that I glorified the nomadic lifestyle of living and loving people different than me in a different culture, but I think the fact that I choose nursing because it was the quickest way to get me out of America speaks for itself. I thought God could use me better in Africa or South America. In saying that, don’t hear what I’m not saying. I’m not saying that overseas missions isn’t important. I’m saying be careful about glorifying overseas missions in your own heart and loving on littles in a different country when you would overlook them if they were in your own city. I’m saying the people in Mansfield are hurting and need Jesus just as much as the people in Abuja, Nigeria.

I really had to wrestle with that because, after my accident, I really believed God took overseas missions off the table. I was mad at God because it wasn’t like my plans were wrong-they were glorifying God. I shook my fists at God, thinking and shouting, “Why? My goal was to make your name known.”  Last year, I had the opportunity to go to Ukraine and this past spring, I went to the Dominican Republic. Those were neat opportunities, but through them, I realized that I’m content right here, right now. God was changing my heart to follow Him not a dream of overseas missions. I don’t know when it happened, but God was changing my heart to see that the people here need to know the love of Jesus-that they are more loved than they would ever know-just as much if not more than the littles in Africa.

Maybe cross-cultural missions long-term is still in my future someday-I truly hope it is deep down-but right now, I truly am okay here. I never thought I would hear myself say that, but in the depths of my soul, I truly am content being here-right here-and loving the people God brings into my life. The occasional trip to the Dominican or wherever God leads is food for my soul, but this is my corner of the world right now.    God is doing big things in little Mansfield, Ohio and He’s simply asking me to “Follow Him.” So if you need me, I’ll be here, in my corner of the world, simply loving people as Jesus would.

School Nursing: It’s all about the ice pack

This is coming on the end of my second year as a school nurse and oh what a year!

Here are a few things I learned in two years of being a school nurse.

  • Ice packs fix almost anything. I didn’t believe this but it’s true. Ice packs seem to be a magic fix.

I think what it boils down to is the littles just need to feel like something is being done and what better

way than to put ice on it.

  • Care is holistic. I’m not just there to fix upset stomachs, but to help in other areas. Physical

needs are a priority, but emotional and spiritual needs are also important. All aspects are interconnected.

If a little is upset about something at home, more chances than not, I’ll probably see them sometime that

day with an upset stomach. Sometimes all they need is a hug and to know that someone cares. The key

is time. If I perceive that they need a little TLC and have time to give them, I often give it to them with

regards to the teachers’ schedule.

  • Littles say the bluntest, sweetest things. They have no reservations when it comes to

asking things. I had one little ask me if I was married. I said no. She asked if I was planning on

getting married. I responded with, “that’s the plan eventually”. Her response was, “Tomorrow?”

I just internally laughed because she asked it with such a straight face. They’re not afraid to say

it like it is. They are also not ones to mince compliments so if they say “you’re the best “, they

mean it.

  • Sometimes, seasons are designed to push you but also let you heal. This season came when I

needed it the most. It allowed me to take the focus off myself and my problems for a while. I may not

have been able to fix my TBI on a grand scale but a littles stomachache or headache while working

on myself in different areas. I grew in SO many areas these past two years. It definitely pushed me out of

my comfort zone-in that it was like nothing I’ve ever done but it was also comfortable in that it was at my

alma mater.

  • 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 but it was nothing like I pictured 2 years

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 success that boosted my

self-esteem.

  • Never underestimate the power of a smile and listening ear. Half the time, littles are in my

office for a minor 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 come

back to the clinic. Often knowing they have that option reassures them, and they are good for the

day.

  • 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. Recently, I saw a little outside of school, and she smiled shyly and waved. 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.

25

25.

A quarter of a century.

How am I going to be that old? Sometimes, I still feel like that awkward 12-year-old changing cultures and continents. But, I’ve become comfortable in who I am and who God made me to be-quirks and all.

Here are 25 things I’ve learned in almost 25 years in this big world.

 

  • Be yourself. Those who care, don’t matter and those who matter, don’t care.

 

This took me YEARS to figure out, but it’s so true. Just simply be yourself.

 

  • My heart has space for multiple countries.

 

Every time I travel somewhere new, I fall in love. My soul falls in love with undiscovered places so fast. Each place is no better or worse than the last, but they all have a unique story and journey.

 

  • Sometimes, you need to simply need to put yourself first and rediscover God in the wilderness.

 

This may seem like common sense but awfully hard to put into practice. I was in a relationship and it ended. I blamed him, but I have since realized, I didn’t have the energy to heal myself and support him. Also, I shouldn’t have expected someone else to like me if I didn’t really even like myself. After it ended, my dad (the wisest man I know) encouraged me to take a break from dating and put my energy into myself.

BEST DECISION EVER.

I labeled last year, “The Year of Me and Jesus”. I choose to put my energy into becoming the most whole “Sara” I could be and figuring who “Sara” even was. This year, I’m better able to be a good (definitely not perfect) girlfriend.

 

  • No matter how bad it gets, you can rest in the simple fact that you have a Father who loves you more than you can ever know.
  • Nothing is ever so bad that a well-timed dance party can’t bring a smile to your face.
  • God can take the seemingly endless tragedy and turn it into a tool to bring him glory. He uses the whole of the story.

 

I really should stop being surprised by God how He uses our messes if we let Him.

 

  • There is no such thing as coincidence, only God.
  • You’ll regret more of the things you didn’t do than the things you did.

 

Moral of the story, if there is even a question, be brave (don’t let fear hold you back) and do that thing you are scared of.

 

  • Do not plan your life out according to a time table. You never know when life will throw a curve ball at you.

 

Make a plan, but hold it loosely because you never know what could happen.

 

  • Every person-those put in your life and taken out of it-has a purpose.
  • Comparison is the thief of joy.
  • Make each moment matter-be present-cause you never know how many you have left.
  • People matter.
  • Talk to random people in social settings. This will make you well-rounded, and chances are good you’ll make a new friend, too.
  • It’s better to put your energy into a few things than to spread yourself too thin trying to do everything.
  • It’s okay-healthy even-to say “no”.

 

A well placed “no” is just as important as a “yes”. You aren’t superwomen and you can’t do everything.

 

  • Your life isn’t defined by your vocation.

 

Your job may be your calling, or it may not be. Either way, what you do doesn’t define who you are.

 

  • Self-care isn’t selfish.

It may-scratch that-it will look different in every season. Nevertheless, you need to take time for yourself.

  • Life is more about the journey as opposed to the destination.
  • Who you were at 20 doesn’t define who you are at 25. Your mentality changes as you explore more of life.
  • NEVER stop learning.
  • Self-awareness is underrated and undervalued as a skill.
  • Some people will bring out the worst in you. Some the best. And others, the most. Hold on tightly to the ones who bring out the most because they are special.
  • You become who you surround yourself with.
  • Just because you don’t talk every day, it doesn’t mean you’re not important to them.

 

You are going to have friends that are in different stages. Carve out time for them, but don’t get upset if you go days without talking. The best friends can go days without talking and pick up exactly where they left off.

There’s Always Room for One More

There’s always room for one more.

This was a saying I heard all the time growing up. In Nigeria, there was always room for one more in the car and our lives.

In Haiti, I encountered this thought  process again as we fit as many people as we could into transportation to get from place to place. Personal space wasn’t really a thing, to be honest.

Now we kind of laugh at this because in our culture,  personal space is a big deal and time is a commodity that can be spent. But, in thinking about it, it really speaks to a deeper, beautiful thing.

There’s always room for one more.

No one is excluded. Everyone is welcome.

I think Jesus thought that way. No one was excluded from His friendship. No one unworthy of His time and energy.

This mentality is one I want to cultivate in my heart. There’s always room for one more-in my heart and life.

I think western society has cultivate this image of scarcity. It’s weird to say because we have so much excess, but we have cultivated-unconsciously-this idea that we don’t have time and space. This idea that we have to plan for exactly how many people are coming so we don’t run out. This idea that if someone is better at something or prettier, than we are less. The idea that there’s not enough of anything to go around.

I want to cultivate the mentality for more in myself.

Just because someone has something that I don’t doesn’t mean there is not enough of that thing to go around, or that God is withholding some blessing from my life, it just means it’s not my time to acquire that thing.

I want to embrace this idea that there is always room for people in our hearts. Some people camp out in your heart for a while, and some just stopped by on their way to somewhere else, but that doesn’t mean we should stopped making room for others.

There’s is always room for one more. There’s room around the table for you so pull up a chair and sit for awhile. Richness is found in relationship whether the people are in our life for awhile or just for a season.

There’s always room for one more.

Selah

Selah.

It’s a word that is rarely used. It’s thought to mean pause-a break.

This has been on my mind recently because sometimes I hate the fact that my brain hits a wall and can’t function without rest. I want to do everything and I feel bad for having to need rest a lot-and I mean a lot.

Selah.

Kristen Kill in Finding Selah says, “When we practice peace, it is always about embracing the rest God provides. He always goes first.

Into waters, into suffering, into new lands, into great joy, into glory, and into rest—there is nothing He gives without giving thoroughly

of Himself.”

The thing about that is we often think rest comes after we do the things-after we finish, THEN we can rest. But what I’m learning is

that rest comes first. Lauren Daigle, one of my favorite people, said in an interview that we need to function out of a place of rest.

First, we rest-completely-then we complete the To Do list. We’ll be more efficient as we complete the list because we are running on

a full tank so to speak.

That’s changed how I look at Selah. It’s a pause that refreshes me to do all that I need to do. So maybe I need to rest more than a

typical 24 year old, but when I look at it as needed to better prepare me for what’s next-to better prepare me to do ministry in my

corner of the world-it’s less daunting. It becomes less of a chore because I want to love my girls well. I want to love the littles at

school well. To do that, I need to rest well.

Find Selah in the midst of chaos.

Sometimes, Selah looks like reading and writing.

Sometimes, it looks like forgoing my diet at eating custard with my family.

Sometimes, Selah takes on the persona of drinking coffee and dreaming wild dreams with soul friends.

Sometimes, Selah is simply just breathing and living with attentiveness-inhaling and exhaling as the leaves fall and snow

blanketed the world.

Selah.

Pause.

Selah.

Surrendering Graciously

Surrendering graciously.

That’s an oxymoron in my life. Often when God asks me to surrender things, I give it up kicking and screaming. I try to take it back

soon after I give it up.

In this season, I’ve had to surrender some things like my five year plan. I mean, it got thrown far out the window.

My word for this year was expectation. Within that word, I couldn’t really expect God to move while still holding on to my plans.

I tried though.

Oh I tried.

This year started out with me struggling to understand why certain things happened and what the purpose was of moving forward if

it wasn’t going get me to where I wanted to be. I held onto some dreams like a drowning person would clutch a lifeboat. It wasn’t

until I gave myself permission to ask the questions-Is God good? Does he have good plans in store for me?-that I really started to let

go of things. It was kinda a forced surrender because it needed to happen and life was picking up speed.

I let go of my ambitions to return to floor nursing.

I let go of my ambitions to live overseas long-term.

And many more ambitions.

I surrendered them knowing they might not happen. I’m learning it’s hard to let go of things graciously but that’s what I’m striving to do.

Albeit, it kind of helped that so many ambitions were ripped from my hands, so I had few options but to let go.

It’s taken 10 months, but I’m finally at the place where I’m not forcing things to happen.

I’m kind of just willing to listen, hands open, to what God has for me next.

A verse that has been ruminating in my mind the last couple of months is Ps. 25:1 which says, “In you, Lord my God, I put my trust.” This

verse just captures the sense of what David was going through. I’m sure he was tempted to fight against God multiple times, but

instead of being antagonist towards God, he says matter-of-factly “In you, I put my trust.”

I’m striving to do that.

I don’t know what your story is, or what is that thing that you can’t seem to quite let go.

Let go.

Simply unwrap your fingers from it.

I don’t know your story, but I know how sweetly God has redeemed and repurposed the dreams and ambitions I let go.

Just tonight one of my girls said, “if it wasn’t for your accident, you wouldn’t be here.”

I was taken aback by her wisdom. She was right. If my life had gone on with my terms-my 5 year plan-I wouldn’t be right here, right now.

I would be missing out on a lot.

I like this version of my life. I like this version of me. I’m going to keep striving to surrender my dreams and ambitions to God graciously.

He truly has a good plan in store for me. It may not look anything like the 5 year plan I had but I think it’s better.

So here I am, striving to surrender graciously in my corner of the world that God has placed me in.