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.

Choose Joy

I lost my joy. I am not ashamed to admit it.

A couple weeks ago, I realized that I wouldn’t return to floor nursing as soon as I thought. I could push to return, but it wouldn’t be smart to rush my healing. It hit me hard.

Like really hard.

I picture floor nursing as normal. That, in my head, was the defining factor of being a nurse. That’s what everyone I graduated with is doing. However twisted or false the thought was, I thought floor nursing makes someone a nurse. I hadn’t even been a nurse, a floor nurse, for 6 months.

I lost the will to fight. I thought, “If I can’t be normal, why even try.”

The only reason I made it this far was that I was a fighter. If I couldn’t do something, I would try again until I got it. I was determined.

So when I lost the will to fight, I got more irritable and grumpy. I used the word “stuck” in reference to staying in Mansfield. I lost my joy.

I wrote things because I know I used to believe it or I should believe it, but I didn’t. I hoped by writing them, they would sink into my heart.

I keep saying I won’t be normal again. I wasn’t normal before my accident. I grew up in Africa so that makes me different. Normal is overrated anyway. I won’t be the same Sara I was before my accident, but I’m still Sara. I may have different strengths and hardships, that is inevitable, but I’m alive. I am still making progress. My rehab doctor says it takes about two years for the brain to fully heal.

I’m only 6 months into a 24 months period. I have made a ton of progress, but I still have a long way to go.  

Today, I decided to fight. I gained back my will to fight. My brother says, “Those who say they can and those who say they can’t are both right”. If I have the attitude that I won’t do it, then I won’t return to floor nursing. And maybe I won’t return, but at least I’ll go down fighting.

So I’ve decided to choose joy. Joy is not happiness. Joy is not an emotion, it’s a choice. Joy is believing that God is in control and that God is good. It is to base your joy on something that is eternal.

I choose joy. I’ve decided to get my joy back.

Especially when it’s hard, I need to choose joy. It will not always be easy to choose joy. It is easier to sit in my bed, moping about the fact that I won’t return to floor nursing as fast as I hoped. But, that is not beneficial to me or the people around me.

That doesn’t mean I’m always happy. This is definitely not how I pictured my life going. There are plenty of times where I yell at God, and wondering why me.

I choose joy because regardless of how I feel, I know that God is good. I just lost sight of that for a moment.

Even when it feels so far away, I choose joy.

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.

Let’s Be Wild

I was self-conscious before, but now I am really self-conscious. I feel like my voice sounds weird, weirder than normal. I feel people staring at me when I walk. I must look embarrassing because I feel really awkward. When I try to write, it is difficult. I perceive my scars are blatantly obvious, like they are flashing lights on a billboard.

I struggled with insecurity since I could remember. Before my accident, I was beginning to get a handle on my insecurities. I was beginning to let God’s love diffuse through my soul, erasing my insecurities. Now, I am really learning what it means to not compare myself to others.

I have a lot to be insecure about now. I have several scars. I don’t walk normally yet. My speech is understandable, but it is not back to where it was. I am insecure about everything, it seems like. 

But, I am learning to see myself the way God sees me.

I am learning that I can’t change who I am. I can’t change my scars or my limitations. The stuff that I am insecure about makes me—Sara Beth. I can accept myself-my scars, my limitations-and allow God to be glorified.

I shouldn’t be insecure about what God created. If I frown on what God has created, it’s like a smack in God’s face.

Through this season, I am learning what makes me—Sara beth. I am diving into who God made me and striving to not focus as much on my insecurities.

I am choosing to be wild. Not wild as in acting crazy, dressing unique, and rebelling against society. Wild as in the living and growing in the natural environment.

It’s going to be hard, but I am deciding not to listen to what the world says. So, I choose to listen to who God says I am. I let God diffuse over my insecurities and my fears. Considering all I’ve been through, it is not surprising that my insecurities are rising back to the surface. I can choose to focus on them, or on the One who put the stars in place.

I am trying not to care what other people think about me. It is a progress of throwing off the things that I have believed my whole life and putting on who God says I am.

Yes, I have scars but they are proof that I survived. I am a survivor and that is something to be proud of.

Yes, I walk awkwardly. I get looks when I walk. People ask me if I need a wheelchair, but at least I can walk. There was a point that my parents didn’t know what would happen to me.

Yes, I have difficulty speaking. My rate is slower. My voice sometimes sounds nasally. I don’t put enough emotion behind my words. At least, I can talk.

I might have insecurities, but at least, I am alive.

So, I am deciding to be wild.

I am choosing to accept myself just the way I am-my looks, my fears, my limitations. I am choosing to be bold in the pursuit of what I like-what I am passionate about.

Let’s be wild.

Let’s throw off the expectations of society. Not because we don’t care about them, but because we don’t need to care too much about them.

Detours

The thing about detours is that they are inconvenient, unwelcome, time-consuming, and surprising. You may take a longer route, but eventually you still get where you are going.

This season is a detour in my life-in my destiny. I had so many other plans, but I’m here, in Mansfield, now. I could choose to have an attitude of discontentment, of anger, and of frustration, or I can choose to be content where I am and look for joy in the apparent chaos.

There is no person in the Scripture who illustrates the principles of detours in relationship to destiny than Joseph. His life reads like a good suspense novel. It has twists and turns along the way-not all of them planned. We read, “But Joseph said to them,’Do not be afraid, for am I in God’s place? As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good in order to bring about this present result, to preserve many people alive.” (Gen. 50:19-20)

Detours often contain evil. They may contain bad people. We suffer under the evil of people acting badly or our own bad choices producing bitterness, cynicism, hate, and stunted growth. It is only when we consider the whole phrase-“you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good”-that we are able to reach our destiny through the detours. God doesn’t orchestrate hoops that we have to jump through, but He often turns the messiness in our lives into a message for ourselves and others.

God knew Joseph’s brothers would sell him into slavery. He knew Joseph would get bought by Potifar and get tempted by his wife. God knew Joseph would get thrown into prison. The only thing Joseph had any control over was his attitude.

He continued to praise God, even when life, by anyone’s standards, was dire. He was in prison with very minimal hope of getting out.

In every detour, we have a choice. We can choose to be angry at God, upset with our circumstances and disappointed because things are not going your way. Or we can choose to welcome the moments, look for God working in the midst of the chaos, and see God’s glory. God can take your bad experiences and turn them into tools to bring Him glory.

I don’t know what the future hold, but I have to trust that God is good and His plan for me is ultimately good.