A nice ride to town
This chilly morning I have to count my blessings. I woke up, took medicine and am letting my bones warm up before I exercise. God, thank you, for doing what you do without me noticing. I fail to notice how much I’m loved half the time. I’m absorbed in what I lack. And I lack very little. I worry about the details, the burden, the likelihood of change. I just have to sit back, and let it ride. So today, I try, no matter the outcome.
I never realized how much mental agony I’ve been holding on to for this long. As much as I despise being vulnerable, I’m being set free. I’m being taught as I teach. I’m being unchained from the bondage of self-imposed secrecy of not being seen. Am I on the verge of tears. Yes. They need to be let out. It all comes back to trust. Do I trust You enough to let go, and give you the key. When I look on it, God has fulfilled my every desire, save one or two. Pray that I can trust with my whole heart. This is the closest I’ve been to total surrender I’ve been since I gave my life to Christ that April day. On this cold and clear morning, may my soul be warm and receptive.
Two cups of coffee deep, and I’m going to give another glimpse into the testimony. I will say this: My mental state was absolutely in shambles, and therapy would come later. I found that my journey to the church and worship music started to break the walls of my torn soul. I had a particular friend who on many instances would mend the pieces of me, I couldn’t fix. I still listen to worship music daily. As for the church, that’s another story. I can’t go into without my emotions getting the best of me. I also started to write. The tears that came after years of repression were needed. I will never forget sitting at my Sony Vaio bawling listening to Michael W. Smith. As I would write, the words I would read back were something I couldn’t handle. I couldn’t come to grips with getting older, and the what ifs of what my future would hold. If your disabled, and watched your family worry about you as you age, it is downright terrifying. If you have, I don’t need to explain. If you haven’t, it’s one of your greatest blessings. Disability wouldn’t kill me, but my reaction to it, almost did. I see myself being in therapy for the foreseeable future. I need to say this. God saved me more times than once, and therapy helps me stay sane. This is part two
This post will be done in installments. 4-13-03. Feels like a lifetime ago. The journey to Christ officially began. I never would have predicted how much my life has changed because I made a choice to be free. What’s changed since. My mindset. I still have days where I question why. More than I want to admit. These days, I stay because of who He is, not who I am. I’m still learning I can’t judge the character of Christ because of those who profess Him. I’ve had to read the Bible for myself, and trust. I ask as I tell this story, be gentle. I’ve thought of keeping it private, but if it brings Glory to Him, I will do it. My journey to Christ was never in doubt to Him, it was to me. I never thought I’d get tired of fighting my flesh. I still fight it every day. I’m fighting it right now. Shedding the pride is very hard. I’m trying to tell the story perfectly, and that may be the hindrance I’m facing right now. I’m finding that the path to Him isn’t narrow and straight. It has stops and starts. The brokenness that brought me here, is joining me once again. Remove the pride that hindered my path to You then, and the pride that is reappearing now
On this Sunday, as I sit in stilled silence, I’m contemplating what to share. The question is this: My testimony then that I shared of my decision to follow Christ, is different than why I remain devoted to Him. My love for Him as I grow older is more that I am being cracked wide open. He isn’t hidden from me, and I am no longer hidden from a world I can’t change. My exhaustion is leading to peace. I’m starting to dream again. So the question is do you want the original testimony of what brought me to Him or what keeps me there. Nothing I’ve shared lately makes me comfortable. To be free, I must be uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable.
Making Christmas cards today, and hope my mailbox is full of them too.
In the world
In the center
Of the will
I’m finding that after all the vulnerability I’m tired. I don’t regret it. In bravery comes freedom. I’m humbled that you come to this space daily to affirm me, to love me, and lift me. It’s very humbling for me to be loved and genuinely prayed for simply because of I dared to be bold enough to ask. God has been waiting for me to be bold. And last week, I don’t know what finally got me to break the barriers of my own soul. I thank you for your prayers. Just to know they are there brings me to tears. Thank you.
Im learning in every aspect of my life, I can’t rush time. I can’t snap my fingers right now, and make it happen tomorrow. I have to trust. There was a question about my personal life, and if and when I’m ready to fully discuss that to the last detail I will. I will say dating while disabled is a whole different animal. I have good experiences, where it wasn’t the right fit. And then we have stories that are not fit for publication. I at first was offended by this comment. This comment, however, has opened the door for me to sincerely ask for prayers in this area of my life. So for the family here that loves me here, please pray for me in this area of my life. I can’t receive the desires of my heart, if I don’t ask. I’ve asked God for years. I need intercession. Maybe I’ve been asking for the wrong things, and didn’t know it. So I ask: if you would grace me with your prayers, I would be most grateful. One of you said, when you are most vulnerable, you allow love to flow to you. Im claiming that. I’m tired of trying my way. I’m exhausted. I’m tired of feeling I’m too broken, unworthy. It’s growth. I can’t believe. Im about to hit publish.
I need thought I would do this, but there was a question raised in the comment section regarding the baclofen pump. This comment wasn’t meant to harm, but it hurt. For me, there is no alternative. Taking the baclofen orally was not working for me. I had no quality of life. I was existing. As for the access and availability in poorer countries I can’t speak of. Which brings me to something more pressing. I can’t speak to equity of most anything in the developed world versus the developing world. Does it anger me? Yes. Does it sadden me? Yes. I’m realizing that I can’t internalize the struggles of the world of which I have no control. I do my best each day to make the most of my blessings that is pleasing to God. The most difficult questions to answer are above my pay grade. When I share my experiences, I do so in hope. That you have hope. And that you fight a battle that is not mine. I’ve harbored too much guilt trying to reconcile why some have access while others do not. I’ve fought that battle. It got me nowhere, but to a therapist’s chair. I’ve asked why of God regarding my condition that will not leave me. I believe in God, but Cerebral Palsy is not leaving me. It’s acceptance. It is what it is. In an ideal world, disabled people wouldn’t feel compelled to always explain something that has no explanation or one I want. I would apologize for this post, but for once I’m not. Explanation done. I hope this ends this conversation. Blessings my friends.
I have debated writing this, but the time has come. I’m on day two of rest. Monday I had my baclofen pump refilled. I love and dread it all in one breath. It’s the day I affectionately call meeting with the needle. It’s where precision and patience must meet. The needle must locate the pump and fill. I have stopped looking at the needle because I know when it meets. It’s not exact and precise all the time. It can take time. In that time I search for kind eyes and small talk. Once done, I leave and carb load so I can have a few hours of energy to walk, shop and enjoy. Once the window closes, exhaustion sets in. The next few days are peaks and valleys of energy. I get bursts. One minute, I feel wonderful, the next I struggle to now doze off. The most mundane tasks become acts of courage. After about a week, I return to the person, I often take for granted. I’m a child of grace, blessed by a benevolent God who gives me access to healthcare many the world over could only pray for friends. I give you this brief looks into what it takes to maintain mental and physical health. Science and Jesus work in tandem in my life. Let me tell you every race, every creed, every religion has treated me. The immigrant has loved me. The treatment rooms are the melting pot. When the needle goes in, what or who you are matters not. I’m American born and bred, but my first word was not uttered in English. The Ukrainian and Cuban grandmother who I swore I was nothing like, is the one I miss most. The one who deepened my faith in Christ was a college professor I had who was a hardened atheist. You can be proud of your heritage and be a patriot in the same breath. My only desire is that you love people truly, deeply and without reservation. I don’t tell you how or what to believe. What you do, I don’t answer for. The Maker of Heaven and Earth knows your heart. He judges accordingly. We are all His children whether we profess His Omnipotence or not. Blessings my friends