5 Things My TBI Taught Me

As the anniversary of my accident approaches, my mind is swamped with emotions. Here are a few things I’m learning about myself and God.
1. Life is precious. Embrace every moment.

Almost dying makes you appreciate living so much more. You are thankful for every breathe because you know it only takes a moment for everything to be taken from you. You see everything with new eyes, and you’re thankful for even the mundane things that used to be frustrating.

2. God is ultimately good even if it doesn’t look like it.

God always shows up. He sits with you in the mess and holds you, if you allow Him. The little things that happen are more than just coincidence. It’s not a coincidence that on a particularly hard day, I received a watercolor from a dear friend. It’s not a coincidence that a friend texts me to get coffee after a hard week when I feel like a failure. These are not coincidences. They are God kisses or moments where God whispers “You are more loved than you can ever know. This may not be how you planned your life going, but I’m in control.”

3. Patience is truly a virtue. It’s a hard lesson to learn.

Everything requires patience-my healing, driving and learning a new job. I want to be back to normal NOW. You don’t realize how much you need your brain to function until it’s broken. It literally influences everything you do. I want to do everything, but I can’t. I almost died. I can’t expect to be back to my energetic, sassy self immediately. It will take some time. It takes 2-3 years for a brain to heal. I’m not even 12 months into a 24-36 month period. I have more good days than bad ones, and hopefully soon, I’ll have only good ones. I just have to be patient and give myself grace.

4. I need to give myself permission to be weak.

It’s not beneficial for you to be strong all the time. I need to cry. I need to mourn my old life. I would be lying to myself if I said it wasn’t good, and I don’t want it back at times. Life is different and sometimes harder, but no less amazing. I have opportunities that I would have never had, and becoming close with people I didn’t even know existed. I’m learning the art of saying no. I am the kind of person that values independence, and wants to be seen as strong. There is beauty in allowing yourself to be vulnerable with people. There is strength in allowing yourself space to be weak and not carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.

5. I’m stronger because I’ve survived.

I’ve learned several things about myself in the aftermath of the accident, but the main one is that I’m a survivor. I survived a car accident. Yes, I am going to be dealing with things for the rest of my life, but I survived. I know if something else comes against me, I can deal with it because I survived this thing. Everything else seems minor compared. I’m braver because I know that I can handle anything life throws at me with God at my side.

Surrender 

Surrender.

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

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

Surrender control.

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

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

“My heart is Yours

My heart is Yours

Take it all

Take it all

My life in Your hands”

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

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

 

When God is big

Something about mountains makes you feel so small.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joy and Suffering

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Holding God’s Hand In The Darkness

Have you ever wondered what God was like?

I have. Many times.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When Being Brave Means Letting Go.

I chose to be audacious this year.

I determined to be recklessly brave even in the little things.

Brave. Courageous. Audacious.

The year of brave, my friend and I called it.

Only eleven months into my journey of being brave, and it has been such a wild ride. I have learned to step out of my comfort zone, when the necessary action terrifies me. I knew it was not going to be easy, but I was not prepared for how scared or lonely I would be at times. I experienced the beauty in being vulnerable with someone and allowing myself to love him. I wrestled with the heartbreak that comes when that relationship ends, even if it is the best thing for both parties. I started a new job-one that pushed me out of my comfort zone.  I discovered a love for the city that I moved to as I chose to stay and invest in my community. Bravely, I strived to reclaim my dreams that I unintentionally put aside.

This year of being brave challenged me, even scared, me, but naively, I believed I would still hold some control over my life and the changes that were about to occur.

 Silly me, I had no control.

The past couple of months have been stock full of good and hard changes, but my head could not wrap its head around the fact that life would be vastly different.

The array of emotions that flooded into the life I started to make in Akron surprised me-the celebration of being established in an apartment, starting a new job, settling into new friendships, and relinquishing claims on old relationships.

To fully settle into my life during the transition, I needed to let go of a lot of things. I let go of a certain person as the relationship ended. Letting go of someone hurts even if it is the right thing to do. That person, who was once a major part of my life, was suddenly a stranger with history behind us.  Things would never be exactly the same. Letting go is extremely hard and the heart grieves what was lost, but it is a necessary part of moving on. Letting go of people, places, emotions, life stages-it is all hard and takes quite a bit of bravery.

I let go of a stage of life I would never return to. I would never again be a traditional college student. Losing that immediate community where I was known, loved, and cared for startled me. I needed to grieve the loss of that stage of life-of that community- as I step into the next one. As I take brave steps to build a new community, to be known by strangers and to be loved by my church.

I am not a novice at letting go-at transitions of life. My whole life has been a series of changes, and I have had a lot of practice saying goodbye to people and moving on. The practice does not make each new encounter easier. I may be good at change, but I still do not like it. Whenever the possibility of change or transition appears, I get nervous–scared-palms-sweaty, heart-racing, butterflies-my-stomach nervous–because the possibility of getting hurt terrified me. I want to run from the change and hold on to the stability that comes with the things that I know.

The leaves change colors and seasons changes which reminds me that there is beauty in letting the dead things go. Just as the trees let go of the old leaves so that new growth can occur, letting go of something leaves my hands wide open to welcome new things.  Every day, I learn to allow the space between where I want to be and where I am to inspire me and not terrify me. Moving forward into this new season, I am brave and choose to do things that make me happy-the things that give me life in the midst of chaos. I am discovering the things that make me—Sara Beth. I am rediscovering the things that remind me of the necessity of learning how to stay put and invest in the community rather than running from the transitions.

Freedom shows up in being able to let go of the emotions and feelings that have been weighing heavily on my heart over the past couple months as thing after thing in my life changed.

Joy presents itself as I reclaim my wildness-rediscovering the passions and desires that God has placed in my heart.

Bravery exists as I lay the messy emotions and transitions at the feet of a loving God who gathers me into his lap whispering “I love you” in my ear.

Toxic Thoughts

I have this very bad habit of lying to myself.

I get caught up in my head, allowing negative thoughts about my abilities, capabilities and attributes to weave themselves into my life.

“You are not good enough or pretty enough.”

“You cannot do that.”

“Well, that was only because you kept bothering them that they decided to hang out. “

“See, you do not know as much as you think you do.”

“They probably do not want to hang out with you.”

“Do not even try because you will fail.”

These lies feed my insecurities and sideswipe my desire to be brave. I begin to second guess my abilities and get caught up in a downward spiral, continuing to believe the statements in my head.

It doesn’t help that I am an over thinker which means that I often read too much into my actions and the actions of others. These toxic thoughts hold me back from being brave, as they affect my ability to be bold in the face of new challenges and fill me with a fear of failure.

The past couple weeks have been a constant battle as the lies fill my overwhelmed soul trying to convince me that I have no idea what I am doing, that I will not fit in, and that I will never be good enough.

I hate failing or doing things that I know I will probably fail at, so it has been so much easier to hide behind my toxic thoughts than to step out bravely and possibly fail at making new friendships, adulting, or even my new job.

In the quiet times I had, I allowed the lies to continue to weave into my thoughts so rather than the quiet being refreshing, it became unbearably lonely.

Ashamed, I admit that I failed at living audaciously because I allowed my fearful thoughts to trap me into being afraid of leaving the security of my comfort zone.

I failed—t he exact reason I clung to my comfort zone in the first time.

Recently, I was challenged to play a simple game of musical chairs. Initially, I adamantly refused.

I refused because I knew I would fail (Musical chairs is not on my list of accomplishments in life).

In my hesitation, I was asked to step out of my comfort zone. My go to response was to blurt out that I step out of my comfort zone all the time. As I began to think about it, I realized that I truly have not been as good at stepping out of my comfort zone as I believed myself to be.

Selfishly, I have always hated doing things that I knew I would fail at. If I was not good at it, I would run the other direction, playing it safe. In the same way, during all the change, I tried to cling to all the things and relationships that were comfortable rather than branch out and establish new routines and friendships.

News flash, I will most likely fail at something or even maybe everything. I cannot simply stay stationary in hopes that I will succeed.

The thoughts that hold me captive in fear of not being enough are lies that need to be rebuked and pushed out of the way.

Instead, I should be combatting them with empowering thoughts which fill me with life.

“You can do this.”

“You are enough.”

“You are beautiful.”

“You may fail, but you will learn how to do it better.”

“You are loved.”

These are the words and phrases that I need to weave into my soul until they begin to sink into my heart as truth.

Somehow, it is always so much easier to speak these truths over other women and people, than it is to speak them over myself.

My challenge to myself through this transition is to remind myself that I am brave, confident and fearless in the face of these lies that attempt to penetrate my happiness.

As well, you, reader, are brave. You are confident. You are enough. God created you with a purpose in mind. Yes, you will probably fail at something, but do not let the fear of failing keep you from stepping out into the world. You are loved.

5 things I have learned from being a Resident Adviser

  1. Life is bigger than just me.

I interact with people all the time as a student and resident adviser. When my life gets stressful, it is easy to think that I am the only one with these problems, but as I talk to my girls, or other girls in the building, I find that I am one of many. We all have the same stresses, and the same struggles. My life and problems are small in the scheme of things. Being an RA taught me that sometimes, I have to look past my struggles and share in someone else’s joy or happiness.

  1. I cannot do it alone.

Community is not simply a buzzword; it is a way of life. Try as I might, I cannot constantly go. I cannot be a good student, remember everyone’s birthday, plan events, and enjoy college. I learned how to ask for help, when I could not connect with a girl, or when I kept forgetting to celebrate people’s birthdays. Being an RA or nurse or student is not you against the world. It is a collaborative effort to allow all to succeed.

  1. Late night conversations are vital, and should be encouraged.

Some of the best conversations happened at 1 am, 2 am, or even 3 am. These conversations were unplanned and important. Sometimes the conversations were silly or serious. They were important and help me grow and be challenged in my faith. Wrestling with ideas and sharing thoughts is one of the best ways to practice the art of listening to others opinions and sharing yours.

  1. Programs don’t matter, people do.

In life, we will plan events and parties. It is easy to believe that bible studies or programs are unsuccessful based on the low number of people that attend. As a senior RA, having a low number of people can be disappointing, but the people who attend still matter. Having only a few people can end up being a good thing because you can have deep conversations with those present. It is a blessing because

  1. Love can be shown in many different ways.

People have different love languages. My love language is words of affirmation so I wrote a lot of notes to the girls on my floor. It took me a while to figure out that some of them did not appreciate the notes, but preferred face to face conversation. I had to figure out what each girls love language was, and how to reach out to them. I wanted to be an encouragement to the girls on my floor, and show them love.