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I believe that one of the things that helped me in my recovery was having a goal. I was still in the hospital not even 48 hours after the stroke, and I was asking my husband no telling my husband that I wanted to do two things. the first one of them being that I wanted to find a therapeutic horseback riding center. The other and most important thing that I wanted to make sure I could do was continue on with my dream of studying to be a psychotherapist.my husband thought that I was crazy.Tom had been was trying to comprehend the situation. He was just trying to figure out if I could go home and care for myself without a nurse's aide.

He wondered if I would be able to dress myself, feed myself and be able to be left alone while he was at work. And here I was talking about riding a horse. But I needed to have a goal something to work towards, something to hang onto that would make me feel That my life mattered.The world mattered. Something to make me feel like there was going to be more to my life in just lying around doing nothing. I had been a care manager and I had seen many clients who had strokes. I thought I had been compassionate and caring and I thought I had understood their predicament but I wasn't even to understanding. The sense of loss that I felt was so overwhelming. I was sure that someone had died only I had forgotten to stop breathing. I needed to have something that made me feel like I did not die. So much of myself was lost from the stroke. I needed to hang on to at least one little piece of who I was.it was my love of horses and my determination to get my doctorate that kept me going in those first days. So I held onto my dreams Like my life depended them. I had other dreams but I did not dare voice them. I still wasn't ready to hope. You see I was still wrestling With god over that abundant life conversation. As I look back And think I was testing God. If he was going to promise me an abundant life I I wanted him to provide me with that kind of abundance that I Wanted

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Every day things matter.

Twelve years ago, a friend told me, " I you are going to have to start  approaching  everything in your life like you are doing it for the first time." How true that statement has proven to be!  Since the stroke in March 2009, Everything has been very different.  I have learned to function in a new way. You might say that I am now differently abled. My blouse or sweater must be adorned with bling at the neckline. The bling helps me determine if I am putting on the shirt correctly.  Without the bling, I might be wearing an inside-out and backward blouse in public.  

I have to do things using only one hand.   Daily tasks, such as how I approach brushing my teeth, are a challenge that needs mastering. I learned to brush my teeth. I would have to discover a new way to do it. After all, how do you put toothpaste on a toothbrush with one hand?  My solution was to hold the toothpaste tube by the top, grabbing it firmly between my teeth. Then I grasped the tube of toothpaste with my functional hand and twisted it until the cap came loose. I would then balance the brush on the side of the sink, and if I was lucky, the toothbrush stayed put. I would squeeze on the paste. 
     It has been two years since I suffered a massive stroke on the right side of my brain.  Somehow I survived the stroke, but it left the left side of my body paralyzed. The stroke also took away a large portion of my vision.  Since the stroke, I no longer have had any Peripheral vision to my left.  After almost two years of recovery, I am just beginning to Rediscover and understand that there is a world left of my center. After the stroke, anything out of my sight was out of my mind Or out of my awareness.  Nothing existed to my left.  No doors or walls existed on my left.  No tables or chairs, no pillars or poles.  Nothing.  I began to get it only after I bumped into countless walls, tables, people, and doors.
     The trauma to my brain left me unable to walk or use my left arm.  I couldn't see.  I couldn't think. For the first few months, all that I felt I could do was sleep and cry. Because my left side was affected, everything in my life became more complex.  The simple things that I took for granted have become My daily challenges.  In the beginning, even eating was a challenge. For example, I could not always find my food because I could not see the left side of the Plate!  While in the hospital, I often wondered if the kitchen staff was trying to hide the good-tasting food from me by putting it on the left side of the tray.  During my time in the hospital and rehabilitation, I lost over 40 pounds.  Not because I was on a diet but because it was too difficult to eat!  The dining staff would bring my tray to my room and leave it for me.  I asked myself the question, how do I eat with one hand?  I learned how to open a packet of artificial sweeteners using my teeth.  I would hold the package with my teeth as I tore it open with one good hand.  I learned that inhaling with an opened Splenda packet in your teeth is not good. I could open my cereal box with one hand.  But the milk carton was more than I could cope with using only one hand.  So cereal without milk became what I've lived on.  It was too hard to think about doing anything else.
    Gradually, I began to give up. Depression Was setting in.  My future looked very bleak.  I felt like I was on the edge of a bottomless pit.  I could feel myself beginning to slide into the darkness.  I was afraid that I didn't have the strength to hold on. I felt totally helpless and totally hopeless.
      It was about that time that I began to hear these words in my head! " I have come so that you may have life in abundance." Having an abundant life seemed impossible to me at that time. I looked up at the ceiling in my hospital room and screamed," God are you crazy!  Then I wept.            God had many surprises in store for me.  But first, God knew that I needed to grieve. I grieved my many losses, left my past, and discovered a future. With God at my side, I began this journey.

Home too long, Thanks Covid!

 It is nine AM. I sit at my computer, thinking about what I  should write. In the background, I can hear an advertisement for a charity called Tunnels to Towers.  This commercial is followed by the news. I listen to reporters as they report on the politics of the day. 
I am saddened by the condition of the world today. I realize that I am old, and I am rapidly heading to my final days. But before I go, I pray that I will see the world and its people return to values such as respect for each other, kindness for those who are less fortunate, generosity towards others, and respect for different cultures, customs, and races. I dream of a world where we see the beauty in others regardless of their skin color.  

On the sill outside my window, I spot I see a blue-tailed lizard resting. As I look out again, I can see a red cardinal enjoying sunflower seeds at the birdfeeder. A green hummingbird flies from feeder to flower lapping up nectar. Purple finches watch from the trees. I am witness to the beauty in the diversity in nature. I can not help to wonder why people have difficulty seeing this same beauty in the diversity of the human race.
I stop writing long enough to listen to a friend being interviewed on a podcast. My friend is talking about the epidemic of loneliness in the world today. He contends that our technology and now the COVID virus has contributed to this epidemic. I can not disagree with him, and as I Sit alone in my office, I feel pervasive loneliness invading my space. I turn back to my computer.  By this time, I am feeling completely frustrated with the words that I have written. I press on. I was determined that I would write a well-crafted post. 
My original thought was that I would write about Tunnels to Towers and how the organization helps first responders with disabilities received in the line of duty. The organization supplies adaptive equipment and even smart homes for some if needed. The help provided makes the delicate adjustment of to a life of disability easier. I understand these difficulties well because of my own personal struggles with disabilities over the past eleven years. I find that today I can not write about this. The subject hits close to home. So I move on.
My next idea for a post was About the time Tom, my husband, was sent out to pick up beverages for break time at work. Again this feels like another story for another day.  Now it is almost 5 PM. I have typed on this computer all day and have not written anything that makes sense. I suppose that is because the world doesn't make sense to me right now. 
I see a card on my desk. It reads, "Ask, and it shall be given to you. Seek, and ye shall find, Knock and it shall be opened unto you."(Matthew 7:7 On the back, the card read, "Just for you"  It is time to cook dinner, but before I do I pause and pray. Thanks, card for the reminder. No matter how bad things might appear God is in control. 

Living Sohern Sweet tea hummingbirds and ummer sun

As I sat eating my breakfast on the deck early in the morning, I could feel the warmth of the sun on my shoulders. I knew by the increasing heat on my skin that it was going to be a scorcher of a summer day.  Because I am partially blind, I couldn't see them but I could hear the hum of hummingbird wings as they flew past my head.  The hummingbirds were at work slurping up their breakfast of sweet nectar from the flowers and the mix of sugar water that I kept in their feeders.  

Hummers are fascinating creatures. I read in a paper by Stephanie Bitner, a biologist at Arizona State University School of Life sciences, that hummingbirds lick nectar up from a flower, like a dog lapping at a bowl of water. Bitner goes on to state that a hummingbird's tongue can lick sixteen times per second, and they will consume one half of their body weight in sugar each day and that they eat an average once every ten minutes."Hummingbirds Foraging May 2014." Hummingbirds love the sweet sugar found in nectar and sugar water. Did you ever suck the nectar out of a honeysuckle flower? As a child, I found its sweetness delicious.

Sugar water and nectar bring to mind sweet tea in the South. My North Carolina neighbors have a unique blend of iced tea that they call sweet tea. This is not just iced tea with sugar in it like I drank growing up in New Jersey. Sweet tea is much more than that. Sweet tea is a heavenly drink that will rival the nectar from the most generous of flowers.

 But before I tell you about sweet tea, let's talk about tea itself for a moment. Although initially served hot, 85 percent of all tea consumed in the United States today is enjoyed cold. Whether you like your drink with a splash of liquor, poured into punches, or served simply on the rocks, you're taking part in a 200-year-old tradition. Hot tea has been served in America since Colonial times. But our tea-drinking habits really started to shift around the turn of the 20th century. At the 1904 World's Fair in St. Louis, the hot summer weather caused fairgoers to skip hot beverages in favor of cold ones — including iced tea. The fair's 20 million visitors cooled themselves with iced tea and brought the new style of tea back to their homes throughout the United States and the world. 

 Later, when home refrigerators with freezers started to appear in homes during the 1920s and '30s, people didn't even have to leave the house to grab a couple of ice cubes year-round. This development made iced tea convenient, and drinking iced tea was less expensive than other options that were available at the time. (adapted from Taken from "The History of iced tea April 30,2018")

North Carolina, sweet tea is made by adding a five-pound bag of sugar to one cup of boiling water. This mixture is then added to a pitcher of freshly brewed tea. You finish it off by throwing in a ten-pound bag of ice, Do this, and you have an ice-cold sweet drink that is a refreshing treat on a blazing hot Carolina summer day. Add to your enjoyment and pull a chair or a rocker under a shady oak tree. Grab a good book and a really big glass of that sweet tea. Relax and forget your troubles for a time. 

One warning l feel I should add.  If you are planning to wear a bikini, tankini, one-piece, or two-piece bathing suit to the beach, although tempting in the summer heat, don't be a hummingbird and drink one half your body weight in sweet tea and do not eat every ten minutes. True story. This is the sweet secret of sweet tea in North Carolina and perhaps beyond. 

During this season of COVID 19, election politics and shutdowns, Summer sun, hummingbirds, and sweet tea reminds me of this one thing. 

I know that God is in control and God has got us! So sit back and relax.

Matthew 6:27 Can anyone of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?

Face masks and angels

I was at the podiatrist's office, and like everyone else, I was wearing a facemask. Nothing felt normal. It was depressing to see so many people in masks today.   The ride to the doctor's office seemed unreal. Yes, there were cars on the road, but parking lots that should have been full of vehicles were empty. I was struggling to understand the reality of the world today. Nothing seemed right.

Monday will be my sixty-seventh birthday. It was on my birthday seventeen years ago that I received a phone call from my brother who told me my mother was on a ventilator.  Since then, I always struggle with feelings of sadness on my birthday. I guess that is because my birthday is a yearly reminder of my mother's death. Unfortunately, she had chosen me to be her child that could say for her, "turn off the machines."

As I said, turn them off, that the room filled with stillness. With those words, I had fulfilled the promise made to my mother. 

Now seventeen years later, I still vividly remember that morning in the hospital room filled with machines that should not have been there.

I try to think about my fifth birthday when my mother hired a man with a pure white pony to give my friends and I pony rides on a sweltering summer day in August. I try to remember the other children and their mothers at my party. I wish I could remember the sound of the laughter or the taste of the sweet birthday cake.  Instead, on my birthday, I remember my voice as I told the doctors to turn off the machines that had to breathe for my mother.

I am sad today because people are wearing face masks to visit the foot doctor. There has been looting and rioting in the streets of Chicago, a city that I visited several times years ago on church trips.  Those trips to Chicago were filled with good friends and happy times. Now those memories are soiled by the current destruction in that city. Black lives matter, Your life matters, my mother's life mattered all lives matter.  There is no longer Jew or Gentile, slave or free, male and female. For you are all one in Christ Jesus. (Galatians 3:28) 

The world feels out of order and it feels like it is spinning so rapidly that I can't hold on tight enough. I feel like I am losing my place in this world. 

As I am writing this, I look out my window into the darkness, and I see my angel that glows in the dark.  My husband has placed it on the deck railing where it can be seen because he knows that on a night like tonight, I need to be reminded that there is something good in the world. Just as the angels came to tell the shepherds that Jesus was born. My little glow in the dark rechargeable sun charged angel reminds me that I have a savior who knows me and  He will heal my broken heart.

Never , Never Give Up Persistance Pays Off

I will be candid with you. Life as a disabled person is hard on a good day. On a bad day, life feels way past impossible. There have been days that I have almost fallen off of my toilet. Some of you may not think this is not such a big deal, but let me remind you that my commode is what they call a comfort model. This means it is about three inches higher than a standard toilet. Three inches doesn't seem like much, but when you are heading towards the floor at a speed that rivals the velocity of a pole vaulter who has just cleared the eighteen-foot height and is headed back to earth, those three inches matter.

 In the past eleven years, I have fallen three times. The first time I fell, I broke my nose. I fell from my side steps onto a brick patio. I had just learned to navigate the steps using my cane. I needed more practice because I missed the step, and down I landed right on my nose. The second time I fell, I added laundry into the washer and fell when I leaned over to pick items out of the hamper. With that fall, I broke my arm in three places. In my third fall, I landed butt first in a mud puddle in front of a church full of people. Fortunately, with that fall, only my pride was injured. As I was falling each time, I remembered my son's advice.

He said."mom, when you think you are going to fall, just tuck and roll." Well, I tried that, but I discovered that it is just not as easy as it seems to "tuck and roll." Every time I fell, I wondered what part of "tuck and roll" I had gotten wrong, the tuck or the roll? It has been tough to get up and overcome my fears after those falls.  It has taken a lot of hard work to rebuild my confidence, get back on my feet, and start again.  Each time I did, It felt great!  I could even complete one and a half miles of a JDRF fundraiser. I finished the route, but it was long after the rest of the participants had gone home.  I imagined they were at home and eating dinner when I finally finished. But the point is that even though things get complicated, we can still persevere. Because of perseverance and help from some friends, I completed the fundraiser, and a donation was made to the JDRF organization. Who knows how many good things that gift is doing.

I have ridden horses and ridden a motorcycle with my husband. I  led a pretty full life, despite my disabilities.

As I have gotten older, it has become more challenging to walk with my cane, and I will often use my wheelchair instead.  But then again, who wants another broken nose? The point is just because things get complicated, we should still persevere. 

You might have to fall off a step or even fall off of a comfort height toilet a few times. In the end, the reward earned by persistence will be worth the bumps and bruises. Winston Churchhill said to his British troops during the war, "Never, never, never give up." Perseverance has its rewards. It could pay to keep trying.

Summer mornings in June

My husband and I stood side-by-side on our deck enjoying the peacefulness of a summer morning. After a  few quiet minutes, I remarked to my husband, "it is peaceful listening to the birds.” 

Our yard is surrounded by many trees and because of that, we have a large amount of wildlife that visits our yard regularly. We have seen wild turkeys, deer, woodchucks, hawks, foxes, and coyote. and an assortment of songbirds birds. Oh, and don’t forget the many squirrels that come to eat the birdseed that I leave out for the birds. (grrr) On this morning the songbirds were singing their choruses in a multitude of joyous voices.

My husband responded saying, “ it is nice to have some peace amid all the chaos that's going on in the world right now.”  His comment caused me to stop and think. He was right!

There is an extraordinary amount of chaos in the world today. There are political arguments that have been erupting on the different news media.  The COVID pandemic has stirred heated discussions, over questions about the possible transmission of the virus. We debate with our friends, coworkers, and others. Should I wear a mask, or is it ok not to wear a mask? How far away is enough social distance? Should the governor open the state or not?  In addition, there are questions of racism, should statues that have stood for a century be removed or even destroyed? To many the are symbols of racism but to others, the statues represent timeless works of art to others, and yes too many the statues are symbols of a terrible time in history.

Will Uncle Ben, aunt Jamima, and Gone with the wind, blown away and forgotten? Will they be archived in a dusty vault never to be seen again?

last night I read about a realtor in another state that is choosing to no longer use the term “master bedroom” This is because the word is related to the slave industry.   As a realtor for many years, I wonder then what will the room where the adults of the home sleep? 

Life feels troublesome, confusing, and downright heartbreaking to many people, We are all struggling with these same issues. Are marchers in the streets peaceful protests, or rioters?  Who matters more? Do Black Lives Matter, Blue Lives Matter, All lives matter.are not we all created equal in the eyes of God? What if we were to follow God's teachings as the rule of law? I believe Many things could change.

Each question is a new fence that is being erected between people. Friends become enemies as we are being asked to declare what side of the fence we will live on.

With all of this happening it is understandable that anxiety and stress in people are increasing. depression is up and suicide rates are rising spousal abuse is on the rise.  People are becoming more argumentative, judgemental, opinionated, and angry towards each other.

As I sat lingering this morning with my now very cold cup of coffee unfinished in my hand. I asked myself, what are the lessons was I taught? How can I use my faith as I look for answers?

Lesson one,

Do not be a clanging cymbal! Always speak the truth with love.

 Is that the clanging of cymbals that I hear? if I speak in the tongues of men and of angels but have not love, I am only a ringing gong or a clanging cymbal. 1 Corinthians 13:1 NIV

The controversies are causing us, yes even Jesus loving God-loving Christians to lose ourselves amid the clatter and noise.  We are drowning in the loud voices all claiming that they are speaking the truth. I am not claiming I have the answers.  I might find out that I am wrong about everything except this one thing. God will guide me with his word, his son Jesus and if I am willing to listen to His Holy Spirit.

Lesson two,

God is the source of our peace.

The world did not give me the peace of this morning. Only God in his wondrous creation could orchestrate the combination of sound, sunlight, and a summer morning breeze that would calm a heart that was anxious and concerned with the state of the world in which we. The trees and all the birds that live in them were. given to us by God our creator. God gives us these things so that we may experience the beauty of His world.

Lesson three,  remember

God is in control!

 Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. John 14:27 NIV 

Lesson four

I should keep my thoughts, mind, and heart pointed in the right direction.

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable— if anything is excellent or praiseworthy— think on these things. Philippians 4:8 NIV translation

Yes, I had to look each verse up to recall exactly what they were. But that is not the point of why I am telling you this. 

Be Blessed my friends. With God, all things are possible.

Take all things to God in prayer!

Father's day, summer and stories told to a daughter

The most memorable images that I have of my father include summer days, good food, and hearty laughter. Yet, not all my memories of my Dad are happy. There are always unpleasant memories that want to mix themselves up with the good ones. That is just the way minds work. You are enjoying a great memory, and the next thing you know, an unpleasant memory comes slithering in the backdoor, trying to take over your mind. Just like the serpent does in the Adam and Eve story in the bible.  In the garden, everything was rolling along great. Then suddenly in slithered the serpent, and with him, chaos and evil.  Like the best memories that recycle back through your mind,  
God recycled His goodness, love, and triumph over evil again into this world. 

Like all of us, my Dad was human. 

Dad lost his temper. Dad was the one who passed out the whippings with his belt when he thought we deserved it. Although there was always a lot of discussion between us on whether I really deserved the whooping and I would desperately try to convince Dad that one of my two brothers committed the belt worthy infraction. 
In the end, love and goodness always recycled back in. Truth prevailed, and justice was served with the compassionate heart of a loving father.

 In the summer, when we returned home from a full day at the beach, we would have an outside dinner. Most people would call this a cookout. Our meal would consist of corn on the cob, California hamburgers, and my mother's famous potato salad. There are two things that I didn't understand at these meals. The first thing was that I didn't know if my mother's Potato salad was genuinely famous, but my father talked about it as if it was the best, world-renowned potato salad and why did we eat California Hamburgers if we lived in New Jersey? Those were my mysteries of life at that time.

My father talked about a lot of things. Dad talked about his family, his work, the Vietnam War, and lots of other things that didn't mean much to me because I was young. I would sit at the table with my two brothers and my mother as we listened to my father tell stories about a magical dog named Longfellow.  In my mind, I pictured Longfellow as a little black and brown dachshund with a wagging tail.  That pup that sprung up from my father's imagination loved to eat the cobs from the corn that was left over after my family had nibbled all of the kernels of sweet Jersey corn off of the cobs.      Even at the age of 18, I was still fascinated with my father's silly stories.   Finally, in the last story, my father told me about sweet Longfellow, the long brown and black dog that ate corn cobs died.  The little dog tragically Choked on a corncob.  At some point, my father's stories ended, and so did the laughter at the table. Maybe my father thought that at eighteen years old, I had outgrown his stories about Longfellow.  Sitting at my desk this father's day, I wish I could hear just one more Longfellow story. So love could recycle back. I would listen carefully to everything my father talked about if I could. Miss you, Dad.

Catching fireflies

   

Do you remember chasing fireflies on a warm summer evening?  I remember the thrill and the excitement I felt as a child as I ran through the back yards of our neighborhood. The sun was setting and the moon was rising. The smell of lilacs floated in the air. We had dirty summer bare feet. full of dust and dried mud. No one cared that our feet became dirty as we walked barefooted down the dirt road where we lived called Locust Court. We visited our neighbors on sweltering summer afternoons to drink lemonade, chat and say hello. We were young, tanned, and sweaty. All the joys of summer were ahead of us and were ours to explore.

IN June after school let out for the summer, the fireflies would appear. Slowly at first, we would see them one or two at a time. Their numbers increasing with each passing minute.

It was the beginning of summer when the sky was full of twinkling lights from the bright stars above and the magical fireflies began to rise from the ground. that I, my brothers, and our friends would run in pursuit of those mysterious flashes of light.  We would gently scoop up those magical creatures with our bare hands and carefully place the insects in a glass jar with holes punched into the lid for air. The jars were lovingly prefilled with blades of grass a twig or two and a piece of moist paper towel.  We believed that these items would ensure our little friends' survival until they arrived at the place where they paid children one dollar for one thousand fire sometimes we would catch fireflies in mid-flight then bragging to our friends of our bug catching skills. If one was quick-footed you could carefully pick the winged creatures out of the freshly mowed summer grass where they landed, before they took to flight again. We would run, chase, and collect fireflies until we heard the welcoming song of the ice cream man's truck. We would wait in line to choose our favorite frozen treat. I would order a sky blue pink ice pop. Although there was no such treat by that name the man in truck aways knew what I wanted. I sat with my friends in the cool grass until we were called by our parents to come home for a bath and bedtime. But until then the running catching and counting of fireflies continued. We would call out to each other after each successful capture adding to our count ten, fifteen. twenty, and so on.   Hoping each night that we would reach elusive the goal of one thousand captured fireflies. Why one thousand you might ask.  One thousand is the number of fireflies that must be caught in order to send them to the people that would pay kids one dollar for fireflies.  

We never reached that elusive goal of one thousand fireflies in that jar. Each night a parent would take pity on the poor insects and grant them their freedom. Each morning we would be told the magical creatures escaped and the chasing and counting would begin again when the sun set and the moon rose. We never received the one dollar in the mail which was a small fortune to children who bought ice cream from a truck. We did not even realize or care that dividing .that one dollar by fourteen would have resulted in each child getting a whopping seven cents.

As I look back and remember those hot summer nights, I realize we never received that treasured one dollar in the mail from the people who pay children for one thousand fireflies. But the priceless treasure of lasting friendships, the joy of having hope in a future gift, and the fullness and pleasure of the simple things in life. Are the priceless gift we received in return for a few fireflies. During this time as many of us are staying home, we can try to catch one thousand fireflies. If you do put them in a jar and mail them to the people who pay one dollar.

Two years and counting

This story is about what I and others did wrong. on the night, my life changed forever.

It has been twelve years since I had a stroke. As I sit here and reflect back, I will never forget the night of the stroke. I clearly remember being in the hospital emergency room and waiting for hours. Every time, the triage nurse would come into the waiting room and call out a name. For hours I watched as people with colds, sore throats, and various other minor ailments were called in to be seen by the doctors. My blood pressure was over 200, but I sat for  4 hours silently waiting for a doctor to examine me. My second mistake. Don't be afraid to ask for what you need.

In my gut, I knew that something was very wrong. My vision was messed up. Part of my vision was missing. The pain in my head felt like my skull was going to crack.  Looking back, I now know that I should have trusted my gut. I wish I had kept communicating with the staff and been more insistent about being seen. That day my life changed forever. As a result, I am now permanently blind in areas of my field of vision. I had no awareness of my left side, and my left side switched from being hyper-sensitive to almost no feeling. My left side is partially paralyzed.  My left leg has drop foot and over-pronation. In other words, I am screwed up!

This story is about what I and others did wrong. on the night, my life changed forever.

I had called my doctor, who told me to go straight to the ER.  I went right away. But unfortunately, I asked my husband to drive me there. I thought that it was not very far from my home. We could get to the hospital quickly. Because I had worked in the ER as a Chaplin and a patient rep. I should have known that it can be a long wait if you don't arrive by ambulance. I did not expect special treatment, but I was hoping I would be seen immediately. I worked at this hospital as a Chaplin and patient rep, but apparently, I got no special treatment. So we waited, my head pounding and my husband complaining to me that he was tired. He knew he had to go to work the next day at 6 AM. It was now one in the morning.  Because of my position at the hospital, I sat quietly and didn't make any waves.  Although I was learning why the many people I saw as a Chaplin were miserable.  Not only were those patients sick and worried. But they must have felt overlooked by the hospital staff. I know that was how I was feeling that night. Silent, scared, confused, and unaware that my brain was slowly dying. 

.And going through rehabilitation. But what I remember the most was my determination to get better. I spent 60 days away from home between my hospital stay and time at the rehabilitation center. I wondered if I might never see my home again. But mother's day weekend, I was released For the day. As  I returned home and walked into my house, I noticed that my Christmas tree was still up in the living room. What a wonderful greeting it gave me. I could not have asked for a more joyous homecoming. My husband was there, and my Little dog and my Christmas tree somehow reminded me that the spirit of God was with me.

The following days were hard. Becoming adjusted to my new routine. I needed to transition from having everything done for me at the hospital to function on my own. My husband would have to work every day to pay the bills. We had our concerns, would I be able to dress? Would I be able to shower myself? Would I be able to feed myself? What would I  do alone all day? It was the beginning of my new adventure. And I had no idea how it would work out. In those early days, having just finished working with the physical therapists, I was full of confidence. But then the crash happened. I was attempting to, or should I say, show off by trying to go up the back steps without a Railing when I lost my footing and fell. I landed face down on the patio and ended up with a broken nose. With that fractured nose, my confidence shattered.

I was hesitant to even attempt to do anything on my own. Yet somehow, three months later, I began working on my doctorate in Pastoral counseling. I remember clearly the first day in class. I asked that I be provided with a wheelchair. I was still terrified of being alone in a strange place. I was afraid that I would fall and get hurt and worried that  I did not have the strength to walk on my two legs all day. I wanted the safety and the security of being in a wheelchair. I knew I could not fall sitting in my wheelchair. So that first day in class, I used one of the hospital's wheelchairs. That was a long time ago. It is now a little over two years later. I Continue to go to that same building several times a week. But after that first day never sat in a wheelchair again. I made a choice to walk, and I have been walking ever since.
     Now each day, I walk around my house, in the store, and I receive my clients at the Pastoral care offices and Lead them back from the waiting room to the counseling office.
 I can remember a song Whose words go something like this," The road is long with many a winding turn that Leads  me to who knows where?" That's how I felt. I was on this long road winding around and around, and I was not sure where I would end up. I just knew I had to keep traveling because I was not where I felt I should be. I did not know where I was going or how to get there; I just knew I needed to go forward. My damaged brain and my body needed to begin the process of healing. And with God's help, my incredible journey begins. I'd like to hear about your fantastic journey post Your comments on this page. How have you been guided on your fantastic journey? What has your journey been like?

Just enough

Why do we always want more? God shows Us  clearly that he will provide and That  excess will become waste. God gives us an example in the bible In genesis We find  the Israelites Lost  in the desert. God says to them," I will provide you with manna in the morning. Take what you need for the day and leave the rest." The Jews do not do that and they gather more than they need. All the manna that is in excess quickly rots. The reason why I have been thinking about having just enough is because I have realized that although I cannot see 100%, I have just enough vision to get by with.Having limited vision has forced me to depend more on my other senses. I have learned To make better use Of my hearing. I have learned to listen with more intention to what people say.  I thank god fo that gift. Again I think about how god knows what I need. Since I am in training to become a pastoral counselor. it is critical that I learn to listen well. And god has given me this gift of listening. Would I say That I am glad That I've lost a large Part of my vision. No of course not. But will I say god has taught me how to make good from what has been given me. Yes, I will say that. It is the same thing. With the way I use my leg and I left arm. Would I like them to work better? Sure I would but I know that they work well enough. I can move around my house. I can prepare some things for myself, I have learned to adapt to my circumstances. Healing comes as I learn to adapt and I wait to see if the functions of my body return to normal. But for now I can trust in fact that god is with me and somehow I have just enough for my needs.Can we be content with what we have been given? Or must we only struggle to find the excess? It is true I've had a brain injury. The stroke as left my body in a state malfunction. But since I left the hospital every day is a day that I moved closer to healing.

Rising up from the ashes

The stroke occurred   in march Of 2009.It was just a few weeks before Easter But,  Come Easter morning I was still In the rehabilitation wing of the Hospital . My oldest son had come by a few days before to visit Me.  he had brought with him a Big balloon which he tried to My hospital Bed .When I woke up on that  Easter morning I lay in the bed watching the balloon float above me And I heard  these words in my head ."This is the morning of your resurrection "I thought oh great! , God's Trying to make me crazy agin!He knows darn well That this is Not my resurrection that we're Recognizing  this morning . But  I  kept Hearing those words . OK, I thought maybe I was suppose think About these wordsSo I lay there and began to think. .Instead of those words  I thought about My Life and how much I  I had lost in a matter of hours.I could no longer walk, see,  use my left arm or hand. I was questioning my ability to be a wife. It felt like I had 'crashed and burned"  It felt like all my Hopes, Dreams , Accomplishments Everything that I had worked for were in flames and were rapidly turning into a pile of ashes. I felt lost and broken I felt like I was rapidly disappearing. My body slowly Dying and my Will And strength withering. If ever in my life I needed God's Strength it was Now . I needed God To nourish my soul and restore my strength. Suddenly those words sounded to me like God was saying  to me" Get up, You can do it and I will help you. I am here with you, I am rooting for you I will give you strength."  I decided that I would try to listen to god's voice one more time.After all I knew that God was the one who could save me. 

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Setting a goal

 One thing that helped me in my recovery was having a goal. I was still in the hospital. Itwas not even 48 hours after the stroke and I was asking my husband, no telling my husband that I wanted to do two things. the first one  of them was that I wanted to find a therapeutic horseback riding center. The other and more important  thing was that I wanted to make sure that I could pursue my dream of studying to be a psychotherapist.my husband thought that I was crazy .Tom thought that
i needed to go see a therapist! Tom was trying hard to comprehend the situation. He was still trying to figure out if I would be able to go home and care for myself without having the aide of a nurse.
He wondered if I would be able to dress myself, feed myself and be able to be left alone while he was at work. And here I was talking about riding a horse. But I needed to have a goal something to work towards, something to hang onto that would make me feel That my life mattered.The world needed to matter. I needed Something to make me feel like there was going to be more to my life then just lying around doing nothing. I had been a care manager and I had seen many clients who  had strokes. I thought I had been compassionate and caring and I thought I had understood their predicament but I wasn't even close to understanding. The sense of loss that I felt was so overwhelming. I was sure that someone (I) had died only I had forgotten to stop breathing. I needed to have something that would make me feel like I did not die. So much of myself was lost from the stroke. I needed to hang on to at least one little piece of who I was. It was my love of horses and my determination to get my doctorate that kept me going in those first days. So I held onto my dreams Like my life depended them. I had other dreams but I did not dare voice them. I still wasn't ready to hope. You see I was still wrestling With god over that abundant life conversation. As I look back I know that I was testing God. If he was going to promise me an abundant life I I wanted him to provide me with that kind of abundance that I Wanted and I was not ready to trust him to come through with this.

Every day things matter.

Recently a friend said to me Susan, " I get the feeling that you must have to approach everything in your life like you are doing it for the first time." How true that statement is! Everything is very different now.I must function differently.I have had to learn how to do things Without the use of my left hand.Daily tasks such as as  the way I approach brushing my teeth are turned into a challenge that needs to be mastered.
     It has been just short of two years since I suffered a massive stroke in the right side of my brain. Some how I survived the stroke but it  left the left  side of my body  paralyzed. the stroke also took away a large portion of my vision, Since the stroke I no longer have any Peripheral  vision to my left. .After almost two years in recovery I am  just now beginning to Rediscover  and to understand that there is a world that exists left of my center. For a long  time after the stroke anything that was out of my sight was out of my mind Or out of my awareness. Nothing existed to my left.  No doors or walls existed on my left. No tables or chairs no pillars or poles. Nothing. It was only after I bumped into countless walls , tables, people and doors that I began to get it.
     The trauma to my brain left me unable to walk, or use my left arm. I couldn't see , I couldn't think. for the first few months all that I felt I could do was sleep and cry.Because my left side was totally affected everything in my life became much has become harder. The simple things that I took for granted have become My daily challenges. In the beginning even the eating was a challenge, for example because I could not see the left side of the Plate I could not always find my food!The left side of my plate remained untouched. While I was in the hospital I often wondered if the kitchen staff was  trying to hide all of the good tasting food from me, by putting it on the left side of the tray.  During my time in the hospital and in rehabilitation I lost over 40 pounds. Not because I was on a diet but because it was too difficult to eat! The dining staff would bring my tray to my room and leave it for me. I was left asking myself the question, how do I eat with one hand? I learned how to open a packet of Splenda using my teeth. I would hold the packet with my teeth as I tore it open with my one good hand It was then that I learned, that it's not good to inhale with a opened Splenda packet in your teeth I could open my cereal box with one hand. But the milk carton was more than I could cope with using only one hand. So cereal without milk became what I've lived on. It was too hard to think about doing anything else.
    Gradually I began to give up, depression Was setting in. My future looked very bleak. I felt like I was on the edge of a deep pit. I could feel myself beginning to slide into the darkness. I was afraid that I didn't have the strength to hold on.I felt totally helpless and totally hopeless.
      It was about that time that I began to hear these words in my head! ," I have come so that you may have life in abundance." The thought of having an abundant life seemed impossible to me at that time. and.I looked up at the ceiling in my hospital room and screamed," God are you crazy! Then I wept.                  God had many surprises in store for me.  But first God knew that I needed to grieve.So with God at my side I  began my journey, on which I would learn to grieve my many losses,leave my past and, discover a future.