Quote from The Shack

God says to Mack,

"Just because I work incredible good out of unspeakable tragedies doesn't mean I orchestrate the tragedies. Don't ever assume that my using something means I caused it or that I need it to accomplish my purposes. That will only lead you to false notions about me. Grace doesn't depend on suffering to exist, but where there is suffering you will see grace in many facets and colors." - William P. Young in 'The Shack'

Trees

Trees are items of wonder to me. They can start with a seed as small as this word and grow to be much taller than a house. Only an amazing creator could do that!

Trees give us endless resources - paper, your house and many items in it. Dyes and medicines are made from the bark, while leaves and roots provide oils for cosmetics and medicines. We know that maple syrup is from the sap of trees - but did you know sap is used to make gum, crayons, paint, and soap?

Anyone want a fresh, juicy peach or a crunchy apple? The list of nutritious food we get from trees is endless. While enjoying a cup of hazelnut coffee - thank God for nut trees.

You want to be "green" - plant a tree. Trees are like the lungs of the planet - they produce oxygen and remove carbon dioxide from the air. Trees save energy, because they help cool your home in the summer and act as windbreaks in the winter. If you live near a highway or noisy business, planting some trees will reduce the noise pollution by absorbing sound.

Trees are always changing … I love their beautiful, unique display each season. I am equally impressed with the relative small size of a tree trunk compared to the massive spread of the branches. This is possible because of the wonderful creation of having the unseen roots spread in all directions underground as far as the branches above. The roots supply the water/nutrients and stability needed to keep the trunk alive and strong enough to face whatever the world throws at it.

Life Today

I am running - on my own two feet! I can run!

My thoughts were much more than the excited thoughts of a couch potato getting off her duff and putting one foot in front of the other. Words from doctors were swirling in my mind;

“Your leg might need to be amputated. Even if it’s saved, don’t expect to walk on it”
“You need to think of running as part of your ‘pre-accident’ life - it won’t be a part of your future.”

With each step, I assessed the aches and pains coming from the lower half of my body. My legs were supporting me, though my nerves were complaining – some stabbing knife pain, along with areas of rubbery numbness. (Like when your arm is sleeping)

I also thought of the words my husband Jerry heard from doctors, as I lay unconscious in the hospital …

“There’s only a fifty/fifty chance your wife will live.
“She might have brain damage and/or injuries so that could prevent her from walking again.”

Now four years after the accident, I am not only walking, but running on my own two feet. I can only run a few minutes at a time, but I can run! I'm so thankful for healing.

Sign at my 'homecoming' 4 yrs ago

Here's the story of the past 4 years –

Jerry and I, along with Joshua, Joseph and Jonathan were in California during May of 2004 on a trip across America. We ‘hit the road’ six months earlier from Morgantown after selling our property, business and house. After managing a garden center for eleven years, we were thrilled with this unique opportunity to rest and process the next step in our lives while traveling. The boys (ages eleven, thirteen and fifteen, at the time) continued their education with the basics coming from books and the museums/factories we visited supplying the rest.

Suddenly on May 20^th, Jerry and the boys were watching a helicopter fly away with me in it - not knowing if they would see me alive again. Jerry tried to stay calm as he surveyed the accident scene in front of him - five semi-trucks and our motorhome. While the damage to the trucks was minor, it was severe to the corner of our motorhome where I had been sitting. As he watched the rescue workers repack the Jaws of Life, he shook his head in disbelief at this sudden turn of events and the massive injuries he had seen on my body.

When the paramedics put me in the helicopter, they evaluated my fading condition and assumed I wouldn’t survive the short flight to the hospital. I arrived with blood flowing from too many places and as white as paper, hardly breathing. Dr. Hinika, the trauma surgeon, instantly assessed my critical state, put me on a ventilator and rushed me into the operating room. A believer in God, he asked for wisdom as he evaluated my extensive injuries - collapsed lung, wounds the size of Texas, splintered femur, a Humpty Dumpty pelvis and countless other wounds/fractures. The combined blood loss was life threatening and they instantly began transfusions. Transfused blood is cold and my body temperature dropped to a dangerously low ninety-one degrees - they needed to give me forty units in the first twenty-four hours. (Average person normally has eight units.)

Two weeks later, as I woke up in bits and pieces from the medically induced coma, reality blurred with the nightmares I had regularly. I had no memory of what happened and I was confused. At some point, I figured out that we were in an accident and I was hurt. Though my eyes felt like lead and I could not move much of my body, I wondered if I was hurt badly and if we could continue our trip.

My first clear memory of Jerry is him grinning one morning as he came in the room. “Why are you so happy?” I asked.
“Because of you, you’re awake and talking!” he responded.
Puzzled I asked, “Why is that a big deal?”

He realized I did not understand what happened or the situation I was in. “Because of all your injuries you were unconscious, on a breathing machine and feeding tube for eleven days,” he gently said. “I have been talking to you and it’s great to finally hear you respond.”

He said that my parents had flown to California the day after the accident, stayed a week and taken the boys back to Morgantown. I strained for memories, but all I could conjure up was what Jerry told me. I was scared, but being an optimist at heart, I thought that in a few weeks, I would be okay again. From somewhere within me, I prayed … “Help me become better, not bitter through this.”

After I was awake, I began to learn about all my wounds and to understand where the pain was coming from. Each time the nurses changed a different dressing, I was appalled as I saw more wounds and staples in my body. The nurses reassured me that nothing malicious took place when I expressed feeling as if I was living in a movie where they did experiments on me while I was unconscious. I also learned I had acquired a fifteen-inch titanium rod in my femur to hold the broken pieces in place.

From conversations, I knew my left leg injuries were massive, so I blocked my view with a pillow whenever those dressing were changed. I do not faint when I see blood, but I had no desire to see my lower leg with about seventy percent of the skin and soft tissue missing. The early recommendations from Dr. Hinika’s colleagues had been to amputate it. Thankfully, Dr. Hinika called in another specialist to evaluate it. They decided to save it by harvesting muscle from my back and skin from my thighs for the significant skin graphs it needed. These ‘donor sites’ added to my pain and discomfort.

“Is there any spot on me that is not injured?” I questioned Jerry.
“Thankfully, your head is fine, along with most of your upper body. You are hurt from the waist down, because your legs were pinned between the seat and the dash of the motorhome,” Jerry said.

Preferring to focus on the positive (or wanting to ignore reality) I didn’t ask if I would walk again. However, overhearing some conversations about my future abilities, plus the reality of where I was, along with my pain forced me to question at times. Most times, as I talked to God about my fears, I felt a measure of peace, though I didn't know what the outcome would be.

A workout for me pre-accident meant running anywhere from two to ten miles, so I looked forward to physical therapy to do something to help myself heal. Three weeks after the accident, therapy began. Hearing the accolades from the therapists the first day made it sound like I had run a marathon. Reality was I only lifted my legs three inches off the bed. But their cheers buoyed my spirits and gave me resolve to reach for five inches the next day and a little more each day.

My recovery progressed faster than anticipated at first. Three months of tough physical therapy and then - steps! I walked across the room on my own two feet with help from my therapist and a walker, happy to be finished with the wheelchair.

Now four years and sixteen surgeries later, scars/deformities still cover my legs. But, thankfully the last surgery in February helped my pain and discomfort decrease to the point where I can live without meds most of the time and brought me to the place where I can run again!

The emotional journey was as hard as or harder than the physical process, but thanks to a caring creator, some good counseling and giving myself time to process it all, today I can say - life is good. I know the ‘wall’ between life and death is thin, so I celebrate and enjoy the miracle of life. I marvel at the creation of our bodies and the way they can adapt and heal from trauma. I have a new appreciation of waking up each morning and filling my lungs with a fresh breath.

If I had a choice, I would like to skip the pain of the past few years, but I don't have that choice. The choice I have is this life today. What do I do with the life given to me each day? A few things - tell how physical and emotional healing can happen and go for a run!

Trusting God ... even when in pain

Recently, I had corrective surgery on my foot to repair an injured tendon. Prior to surgery, I had two consultations with the surgeon, and I must have tuned out or been thinking about dinner during his conversations about recovery. So, on the day of surgery, I nonchalantly walked into the hospital under the impression that since the surgery was minor, the pain and recovery would be minor as well.
The surgery went as planned and I was waiting for my discharge papers 3 hours later. That is when I realized I had missed a few details. The nurse read the instructions as she handed me the papers … “fill the prescription for pain meds, don’t unwrap the dressing until you see the doctor again … and do you have crutches?”

“Wait a minute, are you sure those are my discharge papers? Because my post-op visit isn’t for 16 days … so what about showers? I don’t like meds and I don’t remember the doctor saying anything about crutches.”

“Yes dear, these are your papers … that dressing can’t get wet, so no showers. I think you will want to fill that prescription and use the crutches,” she gently responded.

As I transferred into the wheelchair for the ride to the car, I soon realized that any movement caused so much pain in my foot that it felt like a knife was cutting me. A suspicion started to grow … I think the doctor left the surgical knife in the incision!
When we got home, I had no choice but to use my crutches to go inside. (collecting medical supplies has been a hobby the past four years) I also asked my husband how fast he could get to the pharmacy and back again! The first night was so miserable that I was sure the surgery was a mistake. At times, I felt as if I needed to tear the dressing off and remove that painful knife!
Over the next few days, I did as little as I had to and I continually thanked God that my doctor had prescribed a strong painkiller. My suspicion about the knife continued to grow, especially as I slowly hobbled on my crutches. I could even picture it … about three inches in length and about an inch wide. From time to time, I had to look at my foot to reassure myself that there was no knife cutting through it.
After the first week, it finally felt better and I tentatively put some weight on my heel as the pain allowed me. By the time I went to my post-op visit; I was hobbling on my heel without the crutches.
Now as I walk with less pain and resistance, I am thankful that I couldn’t change my mind about the surgery in those first pain-filled days.

As I reflect back on those few weeks, I realize how often I do the same thing when I want to change a behavior, start a project or restore a strained relationship. I begin the process without properly preparing myself for all that is involved. The details bore me or I don’t think they apply to me. Then when things don’t happen as easily as I would like them to, I want to give up. I even give into suspicions about why things are harder then I anticipated. It has to be because of my circumstances or something others did or said. Lord knows, it would just be easier if she/he hadn’t put that ‘knife’ in there.
I need to accept the fact that change takes time and may involve pain. Only then can I embrace the process and stick to the choices that help me get the result I want. I’ve also been reminded to not give into suspicions that can easily derail a successful plan. If I had ripped open my dressing to take out the suspicious knife … the process would have taken much longer.
As I move through my days now … with a healed foot, I try to remember to not only embrace, but to prepare myself for the slow, sometimes painful, process that is needed to deal with certain issues in life and to trust God, even when in pain.

I want ...

The pain and sadness around me, makes me want to ask - what is the meaning of life? No wait ... I'm not ready to ponder that question today. I just want to deny all the hurt and pain. I want to put my head in the sand and stop thinking about how to help myself or others.

There are a few ways that I help myself through times like this ...
The first, I savor time in nature. I want to sit in the warm sun and relax. I want to smell a fragrant rose. I want to see and hear water. I want to take a walk in the woods and step on crunchy leaves. I want to wrap myself in a blanket and stare at the stars.
Or ... I want to read a good book ... any story that takes me away from the story I am in the middle of right now.
Or ... I want to do something concrete ... I like to organize facts and data in a graph. I want to plan the details of an event. I want to write out an agenda for an upcoming meeting. (don't know if we would follow it, but it gives me a feeling of control)

At one time if I would have chosen any of these three rather then dealing with the reality I am in the middle of, I would have felt guilty for avoiding reality, but now I realize 'there is a season for everything' and if I give my mind/soul/spirit the rest I need for a time, I will be able to process in a healthier mode later.
That reminds me of this wonderful prayer ...

God grant me the serenity

to accept the things I cannot change;

courage to change the things I can;

and wisdom to know the difference.

-Reinhold Niebuhr

... okay, since it's dark and cold outside and I don't have any good books right now, it's time to organize an event :)

New Years

I love New Years! It represents a new start … that to me is hope. Some things in life can’t be started over, so getting a new year every 365 days is a great gift! I like the ‘clean’ feeling that I have as I look at a whole year spread out before me.
I talk to God about the year. Even though, I know that it will look different then I could ever imagine it will ... I reflect, I make lists, I plan and I dream with my husband and/or friends.

It is a great day to be alive!

Best Friends

When I was little, I used to believe in the concept of one best friend,

and then I started to become a woman.

And then I found out that if you allow your heart to open up,

God would show you the best in many friends.

One friend is needed when you're going through things with your man.

Another friend is needed when you're going through things with your mom.
Another will sit beside you in the bleachers as you delight in your children and their activities.
Another when you want to shop, share, heal, hurt, joke, or just be.

One friend will say, "Let's cry together,"another, "Let's fight together,"

another, "Let's walk away together."

One friend will meet your spiritual need,

another your shoe fetish,

another your love for movies,

another will be with you in your season of confusion,

another will be your clarifier,

another the wind beneath your wings.

But whatever their assignment in your life,

on whatever the occasion, on whatever the day,

or wherever you need them to meet you with their gym shoes on and hair pulled back,

or to hold you back from making a complete fool of yourself ...

those are your best friends.

It may all be wrapped up in one woman,
but for many, it's wrapped up in several.

one from 7th grade,

one from high school,

several from the college years,

a couple from old jobs,

on some days your mother,

on some days your neighbor,

on others, your sisters,

and on some days, your daughters.

So whether they've been your friend for 20 minutes or 20 years,

Thank God for the women in your life that have made a difference.

Chistians

Christians

by Maya Angelou

When I say... "I am a Christian" I'm not shouting "I'm clean livin'"

I'm whispering "I was lost, Now I'm found and forgiven."

When I say... "I am a Christian" I don't speak of this with pride.

I'm confessing that I stumble and need Christ to be my guide.

When I say... "I am a Christian" I'm not trying to be strong.

I'm professing that I'm weak and need His strength to carry on.

When I say... "I am a Christian" I'm not bragging of success.

I'm admitting I have failed and need God to clean my mess.

When I say... "I am a Christian" I'm not claiming to be perfect,

My flaws are far too visible, but God believes I am worth it.

When I say... "I am a Christian" I still feel the sting of pain.

I have my share of heartaches, so I call upon His name.

When I say... "I am a Christian" I'm not holier than thou,

I'm just a simple sinner Who received God's good grace, somehow!

Mother Nature

Writing

"Of all those arts in which the wise excel, nature's chief masterpiece is writing well."