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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

The Blessing of Community

College was strange.

It is the only time in your life where you are placed in a community of people who are the same age as you for an extended period of time. You get to live life with other humans who have a similar purpose, but come from vastly different backgrounds.

My first apartment was strange. I was so used to walking across the hall for something. I had to plan to hang out with people whereas in college, they were just there.

Henry Nouwen writes, “Community is not an organization; community is a way of living; you gather around you people with whom you want to proclaim the truth that we are beloved sons and daughters of God.“

Living in a community allows us to call out in each other the aspects of God that we find in each other. The thing about living community like this, it that we first have to is to recognize in our belovedness. Nouwen shares that ministry starts “because your freedom is anchored in claiming your belovedness”.

My freedom lies in believing that I am beloved.

I remember one time, as an RA, we were asked to spend some time in solitude. It was an amazing experience because I was able to sit, just me and God, after the craziness of training. We were given this article called “Moving From Solitude To Community To Ministry” by Henry Nouwen. The article reaffirmed the vast majority of what God had been teaching me this summer.

I sat there in solitude, simply dwelling in the silence and being with God and God alone. It was important for me to sit still and listen to the voice of the one who calls me beloved.

God calls me beloved.

The more that I dwelled with that phrase, God began to speak to the corners of my heart, the center of my being, and slowly I began to accept his love for me. I sat on the edge of a pond where a gaggle of geese were relaxing. I began to watch and study the geese. A group of them flew to the opposite side of the lake to feed.

I watched as a clear leader stepped out of the water.

He took one timid step, intently watching his surroundings.

He stretched his leg out as he took another timid step.

He was constantly on guard and he took small steps forward.

Sometimes I feel like that goose. I know what God is asking us to do or accept, but I timidly step forward. Kind of like this idea of being His beloved. I step forward timidly believing that I am loved, but constantly looking for the other foot to drop. It sounds crazy because you would think that being loved would be an easy thing to accept. Meanwhile, God had become so vulnerable in his pursuit of us. He became so little, so dependent in a manger and on a cross and is begging me, “Do you love me? Do you love me? Do you really love me.” How crazy is that? The God of the universe loves me.

It is a gift freely offered by the creator of the universe.

As a result, I am more prepared to do and capable of loving others when I accept that the King of the World and Creator of the Universe loves me.

The aspect of community changes when you don’t live in the dorms anymore. I have to be more intentional about seeking out people to do life with. I am beginning a new journey.

One that reflects my belovedness.

Tenth Avenue North wraps this idea up well in their song “Beloved”.

You’re my beloved lover
I’m yours
Death shall not part us
It’s you I died for
For better or worse
Forever we’ll be
My love it unites us and it binds you to me
It’s a mystery

I am choosing to walk in the freedom of accepting that God desires me to be exactly the way he created me. He chose me to play in his story of redemption. I have a purpose in his plan. I desire to choose to live in the freedom of God. The freedom that doesn’t worry about what other people think of me.

The freedom that accepts myself for who I am—crazy, beautiful, smart, and weird.

The freedom that steps out of my comfort zone. The freedom that loves God with abandon.

The freedom that crosses oceans and roads to share the gospel.

I want to choose in to God’s desire to change the world. I want to choose in to loving people without judgement. I do not know what God has planned for this year, but I know that his plans are better thqan my plans.

God is good.

So, I’m going to be honest-really vulnerable-with you.

I keep repeating the mantra “God is good. God is good to me. God is good at being God.” from Lysa TerKeurst, but I don’t know if deep down I truly believed them for a time.

I keep saying “this is the year of me”, but not doing anything to promote my healing.

I believed wholeheartedly that “God is good and He has a good plan” right after my accident, but the longer the journey has taken, the more I’ve found myself doubting that truth.

Life is hard.

It’s hard seeing friends do things that you used to be able to do. It’s hard. It’s hard wanting to do everything, but having to pace yourself. It’s especially hard looking forward to something but right before you leave, your brain is not having it. Life is simply hard.

Life is messy.

It’s messy when you make progress but not as much as you would like. It’s messy to want to socialize but your brain hates people.

When you’re in the valley, it’s easy to doubt the goodness of God, especially when you’re in the valley for longer than you thought you would be. This is what happened to me. I knew God was good and His plan for me was good, but recently I struggled to believe it in my soul. Life is harder than I thought. Recovery is a lot harder than I anticipated. On the 17th, it will be 15 months since my accident. I’ve come a long way, but I’m nowhere near where I desire to be. I got angry at God. I yelled at Him, wondering why he chose to save me, but not heal me completely? I shook my fists at Him, wondering why life was so hard now—why I’m 23 going on 93 (sometimes it feels that way). I feel like my youth has vanished.

The funny thing about God is that He wasn’t upset with me for being real with Him, but He didn’t let me stay there—in the pit. He put people in my life to encourage me to rise up out of the mud. It was my choice to listen to them. My mom confronted me about this fact. I was saying these things but she wasn’t seeing me do anything. I wasn’t doing therapy. I got back to driving, but that was about it. It was hard, but good having her say that to me. I didn’t really notice that I was even doing that, until she brought it to my attention. She challenged me, “Do you believe that God is good and that he has a good plan for you?” That rocked me. I thought about that and my gut response was “no”. I knew that it should be “yes”, but it was “no”. Over the next couple of weeks, God used songs and people to tell me “You are loved. You are loved more than you could ever know. I’ve got a good plan for your life. It’s hard right now, but good things are coming.”

So, I’m still struggling to figure out how to believe that when things don’t work out the way I want them to, but I believe it more than I did last month.

God is good.

God is good to me.

God is good at being God.

So, I’m choosing to believe that and fall in love with being alive.

“Because God’s writing your story and He never leaves you alone in your story, and His perfect love absorbs all your fear and His perfect grace carries all your burdens, and your story is a happily ever after because Christ bought your happily ever after so you always know how this story ends.”

Ann Voskamp