Such a big and exciting last week! I started orientation & training this last week for Children's hospital. I'm exhausted from not sleeping (my mind just can't seem to turn off yet!!) There is SO MUCH to learn, and SO MANY SYSTEMS AND ACRONYMS, but the potential for growth with this system continues to leave me speechless. I get misty eyed just thinking of the ways I've LONGED to connect with a good health system to offer redemption & hope to patients for the last 4.5 years... I've wanted to combine my own story of being a medical anomaly with my degree & my faith to offer some of the hope I've experienced myself. I've gotten glimpses of what that might look like and it's brought TEARS to my eyes along the way. I've had several set-backs and discouragements along the way... But the HOPE to SOMEDAY be doing something like what I currently am hired to do hasn't left... Oh. Such relief to see the potential finally here. To grow. To move around in a great system eventually.
The benefits of this company are amazing. I'm still in awe. I *may* have yelled out "A TO THE MEN" during all-staff orientation to something-not even sure what now! We get health benefits for part-time, a bus pass, a weight watchers program support, tons of discounts, and a concierge on STAFF who's there to run some of our errands like oil changes, dry cleaning, and mailing packages for their employees at no extra cost to us! So although there is much to still coordinate with my transportation and so much to learn and become familiar with (as with any new job!) it's been awesome so far to see God show up and help me recall things on very little sleep! That just continues to reassure me that I'm right where I'm supposed to be! It's also reassuring to hear from many of my coworkers that they applied for 10-50 positions... And know that I was selected "because of my cover letter and resume" and my process wasn't 1-3 years to get in, but rather a couple of weeks. Again, that's not ME. "I" didn't get me into this incredible system. Apparently, there is something that my passion, story & degree will do there. Tears for what it will continue to be. Years of praying for a position like this to grow into. A platform to offer hope and redemption. Something that has been so near and dear to my heart. Where I become alive and can SEE the deepest needs of people in crisis (as often only a medical crisis can bring out those existential questions, and I've learned how to personally handle the "gray" and not knowing the answers yet)... Ahhh. Alive. Blossoming. Growth. Sometimes painful and certainly not easy to continue to HOPE, but an amazing feeling to simply rest and know that I'm where I'm supposed to be right now. That HE IS GOING TO CONTINUE TO TAKE CARE OF ME! That has continued to be such an awesome truth to cling to in the deepest part of my being. Just to know that I know. It's not really something I can yet truly articulate, but just an assurance deep within my Spirit that probably looks delirious and crazy to the outside world. And that's ok. Faith rarely makes sense to others. I realize that much of my story doesn't make much "Earthly" sense. That's probably God's point in most of it.
I can't describe just how content life is right now. Sure, there is still a long list of things & needs that I'm wondering HOW God is going to show up and provide for. But I've SEEN HIM provide! It's been humbling, made me patient and seem stubborn I'm sure, but I'VE SEEN IT. Experienced it. Tasted it. I wouldn't trade this journey... Although there were many times when I questioned and would have pressed fast-forward or changed the HOW'S... But I'm more confident in my Faith and His Providence now. I've heard from so many friends that they would have brushed off my advice as a "simple Christian platitude" but they've known my past so they know and trust that I mean it. That's powerful. That's redemption. That makes the unexplainable 4.5 years more worth it. If only for the ways God has & is using those events. Deep hurts & brokenness. Yearning for a day to get OUT of the pit that I was in. Off the current roller coaster.
So, with much love and a content and confident soul at rest for the first time in a LONG time, I'm loving sharing my journey(s) with you all! I'm excited to see what lay ahead for me here and why this place. So stretching, but so good!
Love, Amy Christine
Sunday, November 24, 2013
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
He was with me
Ahhh. Yesterday was beautiful. I went to my EMDR session (SUPER intense counseling for you non-counseling-speak friends) to deal with my stroke and my attack. I've KNOWN there is more baggage to deal with under there, even if I try and shove it away and "not deal with it". Since that in-turn affects my health... I've said it's finally worth the investment of digging some crap up. Let's face it- buried emotions are cancerous and eat at you, your health is one of the first things affected. People RARELY see that connection, and I'm becoming much more aware of how my health goes (food, emotions, weather- they ALL affect it!) So it's been time to deal with some of the stuff that I've KNOWN is still in there. Thankful for the resources of time to do so right now!
While at EMDR yesterday, my counselor had me imagine my Posey bed (literally a mesh tent thing that I was zipped into while in bed- at night and for naps) and imagine myself in that state with my eyes closed and holding these buzzing paddle things used in EMDR work. I was Frail. Broken. Without a voice. Scared. Having NO SAY of much of anything that was happening to me. I asked Jesus where He was in the midst of all of it. I started SOBBING when He showed me He was with me IN that zipped up tent, holding me. One of my favorite moments of the day was after a shower then was to be wrapped in a warm blanket (if I ever win the lottery, that's one of the FIRST things I'm buying. HEAVEN!) and He showed me He was even surrounding me with His presence IN those warm blankets. This wasn't a "I want some reassurance so I'm going to tell myself these things to make myself feel better move"; this was God SHOWING me- "Daughter, I WAS THERE. This is HOW. Seeing you in pain hurt me too. But I WAS THERE even in the midst of it, even when you couldn't see, feel, or acknowledge me. BUT I WAS THERE." Tears just streamed down my face. I needed that visualization. That reminder and picture of where He was. I KNEW He was in my heart, but seeing where He was during the crazy-up-in-the-air months made me relax and recall some of the good moments in the hospital and how He was IN THEM. Sigh. So many years and months fretting over how I thought I was alone. Tears when I realized I was NOT.
We'll get to the attack eventually- that'll probably be in a few weeks yet. It's amazing how things you've held on to for YEARS can be dropped in a moment after a revelation like that. I'm grateful for it's releasing from my body, mind and memory. It hasn't been good for my health, outlook, how I've seen myself, and continued to move through life! AHHH! I can breathe again!
Love,
Amy Christine
While at EMDR yesterday, my counselor had me imagine my Posey bed (literally a mesh tent thing that I was zipped into while in bed- at night and for naps) and imagine myself in that state with my eyes closed and holding these buzzing paddle things used in EMDR work. I was Frail. Broken. Without a voice. Scared. Having NO SAY of much of anything that was happening to me. I asked Jesus where He was in the midst of all of it. I started SOBBING when He showed me He was with me IN that zipped up tent, holding me. One of my favorite moments of the day was after a shower then was to be wrapped in a warm blanket (if I ever win the lottery, that's one of the FIRST things I'm buying. HEAVEN!) and He showed me He was even surrounding me with His presence IN those warm blankets. This wasn't a "I want some reassurance so I'm going to tell myself these things to make myself feel better move"; this was God SHOWING me- "Daughter, I WAS THERE. This is HOW. Seeing you in pain hurt me too. But I WAS THERE even in the midst of it, even when you couldn't see, feel, or acknowledge me. BUT I WAS THERE." Tears just streamed down my face. I needed that visualization. That reminder and picture of where He was. I KNEW He was in my heart, but seeing where He was during the crazy-up-in-the-air months made me relax and recall some of the good moments in the hospital and how He was IN THEM. Sigh. So many years and months fretting over how I thought I was alone. Tears when I realized I was NOT.
We'll get to the attack eventually- that'll probably be in a few weeks yet. It's amazing how things you've held on to for YEARS can be dropped in a moment after a revelation like that. I'm grateful for it's releasing from my body, mind and memory. It hasn't been good for my health, outlook, how I've seen myself, and continued to move through life! AHHH! I can breathe again!
Love,
Amy Christine
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
Women at the Cross & "Thin places" in Denver
Since I haven't written in a few weeks, I wanted to share about two really awesome things going on for me lately.
I got the privilege to staff at a women's conference this past weekend. AMAZING. One of my (many) favorite moments of the weekend was on Sunday morning during worship. If you've spent much time with me, you know I take responsibilities very seriously and can be not so nice to myself "if I fail". I had EVERYTHING set to go for our worship time- the power point, the worship set- all were checked ahead of time and set to go- I even reformatted a few slides to be viewed easier. And then it was time to hit play- and I realized that THEY WEREN'T THE SAME- the songs didn't match the slides?! My first thought was "these 75+ women aren't going to be able to worship BECAUSE I SCREWED UP MY JOB!" So through my tears and breaking down, I managed to find the right things and started the set- probably less than 10 seconds in reality but felt like AN ETERNITY of everyone watching me fumble... Alicia, who was overseeing me for the weekend in this role, came over and ran sound for the few songs while I cried and worshiped with our sweet prayer elder for the weekend, Elaine. I looked out at the women attending, and they were all meeting with Jesus- some crying, some face down, some kneeling, many with hands raised high... and God reminded me- 'I don't need you to have my way with my people'. It was maybe the best worship I have had in a LONG time... I could meet with God even through "my failing". My friend Melissa reminded me after that session that "I am not powerful enough to mess up what God is doing". That's soberingly beautiful!
One of my pastors in Indianapolis talked about the idea behind some Celtic theology- the idea of "thin places", or places on Earth that allow us to see God unlike other places. I can think of a few places like this in my walk 17 years with Jesus. New Georgia, Liberia; the decks on the Anastasias with Mercy Ships; the Downing House in Englewood; Smoky Mountains in Tennessee... and many others. Craig Hospital has over the last 4.5 years become a thin place for me. I can no longer walk the halls, interact with patients and doctors there, or be anywhere in that hospital and not remember what transpired 4.5 years ago in my life. If I am being totally transparent- the **** hit the fan, and the floor completely dropped out from under me. It's been incredibly sobering to have doctors tell you that you are a medical miracle, and you shouldn't be here or "this" recovered because of _____. Um, that doesn't happen. I never wanted to be a medical miracle or defy science- it's never been on my "to do" list... but now I can consider it an honor. For ALL that we know about the body, the brain, the neurological functions... my body didn't "play by the rules". I'd like to believe that God has something to do through me that He couldn't accomplish bringing me home to be with Him yet. So He intervened and made it so that it wasn't yet my time Feb. 25, 2009. I still am uncomfortable talking about it BECAUSE I DON'T KNOW HOW TO TALK ABOUT IT STILL. There's this tightrope I walk between coming off prideful or weak and not knowing how to deal with being a living-breathing miracle. We ALL are, but to become one again at 28 in some very surprising events... uh, I still stumble with the words so for now, I usually am tight lipped about it all. How do you talk about something this amazing when "there wasn't a reason to cause it" and you still don't have the words??
All of that supernatural intervention aside, Craig was the place that I got to first-hand SEE that transformation. I came in and couldn't swallow. Couldn't walk. Couldn't talk. Had no recolletion of anything. And I left 2.5 months later talking. Walking. Swallowing. Remembering (somewhat. Ok, this may be a stretch since much of that didn’t happen until like a year later). VERY MUCH still questioning WHAT just happened to me and HOW GOD allowed that to happen to ME (still sorting through that existential question, but in a MUCH healthier place of questioning it all now after counseling and having some dear friends walk with me and not rush me to have it figured out yet!!) Folks, Craig has come to symbolize this point in my life. Highlighting a thin place of so much healing for me. Where I could literally see the difference from coming in one way and leaving a completely different person. I get to be a part of that in other people's stories' now. It may just be volunteering yet, but this is where I want to be. Need to be. I needed someone then that was further along in their journey to give me hope then that there was going to be a day where a wheelchair wouldn't be my reality. Where I could go to the bathroom unattended. Where I could swallow and talk again- without thickeners and really eat foods again. That I would still accomplish things, even if the doctors were dampening my hopes for X,Y, and Z. I get to have a part in other's stories of regaining abilities again. This is a thin place for me now, where I can see God working in me, through me, and even in spite of me. I WANT to be a part of other peoples' wrestling with the very questions that I was asking 4.5 years ago, and still letting go of the not having answers. I've been there. I can get it. I want to be a part of other people asking those very questions, and wrestling through the finding the answers themselves. The struggle and journey as you question is beautiful, and I think many American's just 'want it to be done and over with' or 'just accept it and move on'. We don't deal well with grief, especially if we don't have any answers or platitudes to accompany it. So many withdrawl because it makes us uncomfortable to not know what to say in return, and we go to where we can "feel useful". I've become ok with the gray areas. The places that don't have answers. Where words fail. Where just being is enough.
So these are my thoughts from Women At The Cross and volunteering at Craig again. Things may not look at all like I thought they would in Denver, but He is providing and I am excited to see what else lay ahead!
Love,
Amy Christine
I got the privilege to staff at a women's conference this past weekend. AMAZING. One of my (many) favorite moments of the weekend was on Sunday morning during worship. If you've spent much time with me, you know I take responsibilities very seriously and can be not so nice to myself "if I fail". I had EVERYTHING set to go for our worship time- the power point, the worship set- all were checked ahead of time and set to go- I even reformatted a few slides to be viewed easier. And then it was time to hit play- and I realized that THEY WEREN'T THE SAME- the songs didn't match the slides?! My first thought was "these 75+ women aren't going to be able to worship BECAUSE I SCREWED UP MY JOB!" So through my tears and breaking down, I managed to find the right things and started the set- probably less than 10 seconds in reality but felt like AN ETERNITY of everyone watching me fumble... Alicia, who was overseeing me for the weekend in this role, came over and ran sound for the few songs while I cried and worshiped with our sweet prayer elder for the weekend, Elaine. I looked out at the women attending, and they were all meeting with Jesus- some crying, some face down, some kneeling, many with hands raised high... and God reminded me- 'I don't need you to have my way with my people'. It was maybe the best worship I have had in a LONG time... I could meet with God even through "my failing". My friend Melissa reminded me after that session that "I am not powerful enough to mess up what God is doing". That's soberingly beautiful!
One of my pastors in Indianapolis talked about the idea behind some Celtic theology- the idea of "thin places", or places on Earth that allow us to see God unlike other places. I can think of a few places like this in my walk 17 years with Jesus. New Georgia, Liberia; the decks on the Anastasias with Mercy Ships; the Downing House in Englewood; Smoky Mountains in Tennessee... and many others. Craig Hospital has over the last 4.5 years become a thin place for me. I can no longer walk the halls, interact with patients and doctors there, or be anywhere in that hospital and not remember what transpired 4.5 years ago in my life. If I am being totally transparent- the **** hit the fan, and the floor completely dropped out from under me. It's been incredibly sobering to have doctors tell you that you are a medical miracle, and you shouldn't be here or "this" recovered because of _____. Um, that doesn't happen. I never wanted to be a medical miracle or defy science- it's never been on my "to do" list... but now I can consider it an honor. For ALL that we know about the body, the brain, the neurological functions... my body didn't "play by the rules". I'd like to believe that God has something to do through me that He couldn't accomplish bringing me home to be with Him yet. So He intervened and made it so that it wasn't yet my time Feb. 25, 2009. I still am uncomfortable talking about it BECAUSE I DON'T KNOW HOW TO TALK ABOUT IT STILL. There's this tightrope I walk between coming off prideful or weak and not knowing how to deal with being a living-breathing miracle. We ALL are, but to become one again at 28 in some very surprising events... uh, I still stumble with the words so for now, I usually am tight lipped about it all. How do you talk about something this amazing when "there wasn't a reason to cause it" and you still don't have the words??
All of that supernatural intervention aside, Craig was the place that I got to first-hand SEE that transformation. I came in and couldn't swallow. Couldn't walk. Couldn't talk. Had no recolletion of anything. And I left 2.5 months later talking. Walking. Swallowing. Remembering (somewhat. Ok, this may be a stretch since much of that didn’t happen until like a year later). VERY MUCH still questioning WHAT just happened to me and HOW GOD allowed that to happen to ME (still sorting through that existential question, but in a MUCH healthier place of questioning it all now after counseling and having some dear friends walk with me and not rush me to have it figured out yet!!) Folks, Craig has come to symbolize this point in my life. Highlighting a thin place of so much healing for me. Where I could literally see the difference from coming in one way and leaving a completely different person. I get to be a part of that in other people's stories' now. It may just be volunteering yet, but this is where I want to be. Need to be. I needed someone then that was further along in their journey to give me hope then that there was going to be a day where a wheelchair wouldn't be my reality. Where I could go to the bathroom unattended. Where I could swallow and talk again- without thickeners and really eat foods again. That I would still accomplish things, even if the doctors were dampening my hopes for X,Y, and Z. I get to have a part in other's stories of regaining abilities again. This is a thin place for me now, where I can see God working in me, through me, and even in spite of me. I WANT to be a part of other peoples' wrestling with the very questions that I was asking 4.5 years ago, and still letting go of the not having answers. I've been there. I can get it. I want to be a part of other people asking those very questions, and wrestling through the finding the answers themselves. The struggle and journey as you question is beautiful, and I think many American's just 'want it to be done and over with' or 'just accept it and move on'. We don't deal well with grief, especially if we don't have any answers or platitudes to accompany it. So many withdrawl because it makes us uncomfortable to not know what to say in return, and we go to where we can "feel useful". I've become ok with the gray areas. The places that don't have answers. Where words fail. Where just being is enough.
So these are my thoughts from Women At The Cross and volunteering at Craig again. Things may not look at all like I thought they would in Denver, but He is providing and I am excited to see what else lay ahead!
Love,
Amy Christine
Monday, September 16, 2013
My Dr. Jekyll and Mrs. Hyde
Yes, I know that no one really likes the rain. And rarely do you feel productive when you just want to sit in front of a fire, drinking hot chocolate and reading a book. I get it. But I've noticed in the last few weeks since being back in Denver just what a DIFFERENCE it makes when it's nice out. Sun shining gives me hope and reminds of the great things around me. My perspective easily shifts. I'm hopeful about my future again. I can give voice to what God might be doing around me. I can recognize the many, many blessings that are around my life. I can speak of them with confidence. However, when the skies open and it will not stop raining, as it did for much of last week, I want to crawl and hide. My body physically takes so much effort to do the most basic of functions. I have no energy. I'm completely lethargic. My head and muscles aches and throb. I want to curl in a ball and hide, forever. My perspective is incredibly focused on self-preservation. I just want the pain inside to STOP.
On the outside, I "look" fine. I sometimes force myself to get dressed and participate in life, although that's rare. However, inside, I am hurting. And I get tired of talking about it. I've been asked "Well, why don't you just stay in bed then?" Deep breath. If I stayed in bed ALL THE TIME that I felt crappy, I would never leave. And after a few days of being bound to your bed, you go stir-crazy. So, I've mastered the art of continuing with much of life while in the midst of pain(s). Try going to graduate school with a constant headache that could just morph into a migraine whenever... I've learned some of my limits from my stroke, and will never again ignore all the signs leading up to that event. I'm now passionate about medical coverage, because I didn't think anything could happen to me either. Thank you Starbucks insurance. And now I can be thankful for the event for being more cogniszent to my own body and taking care of this temple that I dwell in on Earth for now.
All that to say, the Sun in shining again today, and my body is taking a deep breath of relief. Relaxing from the chaos that was last week, hiding in my bed, afraid to emerge. One of the things I am most excited about living in Denver again is that I get those days SO MUCH MORE OFTEN. I can be who I really was created to be. The person who emerges when it's rainy out is a shell of a person, drudging through life methodically, simply trying to survive until it's an acceptable time to return to Bed. I know that's not who God has created me to be. So I will stand tall and proud on these nice days out. And rejoice and sing of the New Creation that I am. I want to learn (with time) how to do that even when it's not so nice out, but that's a hurdle to get over next time it's rainy. For now, I will stand firm in the Sunshine, remembering all the good that He has done for me!
Love,
Amy Christine
On the outside, I "look" fine. I sometimes force myself to get dressed and participate in life, although that's rare. However, inside, I am hurting. And I get tired of talking about it. I've been asked "Well, why don't you just stay in bed then?" Deep breath. If I stayed in bed ALL THE TIME that I felt crappy, I would never leave. And after a few days of being bound to your bed, you go stir-crazy. So, I've mastered the art of continuing with much of life while in the midst of pain(s). Try going to graduate school with a constant headache that could just morph into a migraine whenever... I've learned some of my limits from my stroke, and will never again ignore all the signs leading up to that event. I'm now passionate about medical coverage, because I didn't think anything could happen to me either. Thank you Starbucks insurance. And now I can be thankful for the event for being more cogniszent to my own body and taking care of this temple that I dwell in on Earth for now.
All that to say, the Sun in shining again today, and my body is taking a deep breath of relief. Relaxing from the chaos that was last week, hiding in my bed, afraid to emerge. One of the things I am most excited about living in Denver again is that I get those days SO MUCH MORE OFTEN. I can be who I really was created to be. The person who emerges when it's rainy out is a shell of a person, drudging through life methodically, simply trying to survive until it's an acceptable time to return to Bed. I know that's not who God has created me to be. So I will stand tall and proud on these nice days out. And rejoice and sing of the New Creation that I am. I want to learn (with time) how to do that even when it's not so nice out, but that's a hurdle to get over next time it's rainy. For now, I will stand firm in the Sunshine, remembering all the good that He has done for me!
Love,
Amy Christine
Saturday, September 7, 2013
Thankful & Content
I had a great day today. Things were relatively pain-free (at least not to the point of it distracting too much from what I was already doing) today, and that made me happy. I met with a woman I had met last weekend at church for coffee this morning, and then for lunch with a friend I haven't seen since high school. Both were fantastic, and felt so natural again. I'm just starting to come out of this victim mentality and constantly listening to lies- about who I am, what I'm capable of, what my future holds... I realize I went to a Seminary and have my master's degree in counseling, but after the crap I've been through in the last few years with my stroke, break-ups, constantly being a medical anomaly, and my assault- you start to believe the lies that are lobbed your direction. It hasn't been until recently that I've started to see them as false... but letting go of that baggage is a completely different story. Believing that you actually have something worth sharing with others... I haven't been able to see it because I've hidden in the dark, cowering, afraid. The musician(s) Jason Gray and Kari Jobe, along with a study I've recently done by Christina May Gibson on my Sufficiency in Christ have begun to shed light on some of the ways I've hidden in the lies and the fear. I know I have a powerful testimony, something I prayed for when I first became a Christian... I just didn't know I was going to have to endure things to GET THAT STORY. Somehow, I thought it would just be "handed" to me... oh no.
Today was beautiful. Meeting for coffee and then with my friend for lunch- I got glimpses of what life could be like with less pain and speaking with other women about Hope. Although we talked about what happened a few years ago in both conversations, it remained just a "yes, this happened to me. And..." I'm getting to the place where it's something God has brought me THROUGH and I can talk confidently about it. 4.5 years ago I never imagined this day would ever come- I just wanted to walk or swallow again. Being able to speak confidently of what GOD has done IN ME was NOT in the forefront of my mind then to be honest. I knew eventually He would, but I was preoccupied by daily life then to give it much attention. Now I'm beginning to see redemption. I'm tired of shrinking back into the shadows. I'm tired of listening to the lies, or believing that they have any truth. But if/when you have been victimized, you suddenly get it. You realize how much it's like a vortex that eventually you don't remember what the light looks like any longer. For months, that was this web of lies and shame that told me I had done something to deserve the pain(s) I was in, it was my own fault for the situations and consequences I was in, that there wouldn't be an end to them, that I was being punished for something... the lies got ugly and unfortunately I believed them. The silence of the one's around me (whom I often wouldn't let in anyway) reinforced these false belief's... that maybe I would have stopped believing sooner if I had. Thankfully, I have faith in the One who sees me differently than I have in the recent past. Thankfully, He has a purpose, yet TBD to my eyes. It's going to be awesome. He has restored my view of who He is and How He takes delight in me. That's pretty awesome.
I NEVER could have imagined that I would be used like this. By beginning to open up slightly. Helping to proclaim truth just by my miracle of a life. Remaining faithful during the not-knowing weeks to what I did know to be true. Choosing to leave all known comforts and stability behind on the Faith that life could be different from what I knew currently. Bypassing the details many fret over with my shoulders shrugged with a "I don't know. However, I trust" because I've learned not to squabble about the details. Not that they don't matter, but often we won't know with certainty until we get to Heaven anyway. So I'm relaxing my grip on what education or training I have had, and I'm getting back to what really matters- loving people well. Reclaiming myself in How God created me. Putting aside the polarizing politics and theologies. Stepping into the unknown(s) yet again. This is far from easy. But He is worth it. Abandoning myself to what may lay ahead is worth it. I don't know what lay ahead, but I'm trusting that He has a plan.
Love,
Amy Christine
Today was beautiful. Meeting for coffee and then with my friend for lunch- I got glimpses of what life could be like with less pain and speaking with other women about Hope. Although we talked about what happened a few years ago in both conversations, it remained just a "yes, this happened to me. And..." I'm getting to the place where it's something God has brought me THROUGH and I can talk confidently about it. 4.5 years ago I never imagined this day would ever come- I just wanted to walk or swallow again. Being able to speak confidently of what GOD has done IN ME was NOT in the forefront of my mind then to be honest. I knew eventually He would, but I was preoccupied by daily life then to give it much attention. Now I'm beginning to see redemption. I'm tired of shrinking back into the shadows. I'm tired of listening to the lies, or believing that they have any truth. But if/when you have been victimized, you suddenly get it. You realize how much it's like a vortex that eventually you don't remember what the light looks like any longer. For months, that was this web of lies and shame that told me I had done something to deserve the pain(s) I was in, it was my own fault for the situations and consequences I was in, that there wouldn't be an end to them, that I was being punished for something... the lies got ugly and unfortunately I believed them. The silence of the one's around me (whom I often wouldn't let in anyway) reinforced these false belief's... that maybe I would have stopped believing sooner if I had. Thankfully, I have faith in the One who sees me differently than I have in the recent past. Thankfully, He has a purpose, yet TBD to my eyes. It's going to be awesome. He has restored my view of who He is and How He takes delight in me. That's pretty awesome.
I NEVER could have imagined that I would be used like this. By beginning to open up slightly. Helping to proclaim truth just by my miracle of a life. Remaining faithful during the not-knowing weeks to what I did know to be true. Choosing to leave all known comforts and stability behind on the Faith that life could be different from what I knew currently. Bypassing the details many fret over with my shoulders shrugged with a "I don't know. However, I trust" because I've learned not to squabble about the details. Not that they don't matter, but often we won't know with certainty until we get to Heaven anyway. So I'm relaxing my grip on what education or training I have had, and I'm getting back to what really matters- loving people well. Reclaiming myself in How God created me. Putting aside the polarizing politics and theologies. Stepping into the unknown(s) yet again. This is far from easy. But He is worth it. Abandoning myself to what may lay ahead is worth it. I don't know what lay ahead, but I'm trusting that He has a plan.
Love,
Amy Christine
Monday, August 26, 2013
What COULD have been
I've been reflecting as of late on how my life could have gone if just a detail or two were changed. It's scary, sobering, and awe-striking how many things could have changed, but I can honestly say now, that I'm thankful for the things that never materialized or came to be.
I realize that after several of my own circumstances, things could have played out VERY differently. I smile THANKFUL that none of my past relationships worked out actually now... because many of them we would probably now be divorced, with a few children and my ex-husband in jail. I'm still thankful to be MISS NIXON and not Mrs. _____. Most days at least. If I hadn't met the Lord in High School... well, a Christian undergrad to study YOUTH MINISTRY and a Master's degree from A SEMINARY wouldn't have even crossed my mind. I would have laughed at you for even mentioning such a thing. I would instead be a teacher or a nurse. If I hadn't crossed the ocean to go with Mercy Ships to West Africa (without knowing anyone before I went), I wouldn't have met some of my dearest friends that I still love to pray with and catch up today. Seeing some of the world's deepest povertys' and injustices would have not alarmed me as much to come back to the stark contrast we live with daily in America.
If my brain hadn't exploded (That's one of the times that I feel free to be graphic. Because it did.) then I wouldn't have SO MANY resources after at my disposal to help me try and navigate life now. Because, turns out, America isn't very friendly to someone with a traumatic-brain injury. Especially mine but then also achieving my master's degree in counseling, a profession based upon insight, discernment, and memory. If things had turned out differently, I wouldn't be here today, and would have died in my sleep. Try that line at a cocktail party :) If I hadn't moved back to the Midwest, I would have clung to the idea returning later to be closer to family once I had a family of my own. Trying handfuls of medication(s) to control my seasonal depression helped to show me that there isn't a quick fix for how depression presents in my body. Being sexually assaulted is a WHOLE mixed bag, and has been only slightly processed thus far still. His choice(s) resulted in his divorce and a criminal record, but those children will not daily live with thinking that it's OK to treat a woman the way that he did to me or his wife at the time. There was so much survivor guilt and shame (it's typical with assaults) but was compounded all the more so after my stroke, and recent relocation and grief of a break up. My chronic pain(s) have allowed me to have compassion on others who also have some sort of medical ailment, that the medical community has no idea what to do with. (Side note- it's incredibly frustrating to sit across from a doctor and have them tell you "We don't know why". My response is almost always internal of "then I shouldn't have to pay for today's visit, since you went to school for a dozen years and I still get to be a mystery" Ok, rant done.)
I know of a few people who have had a few similar circumstances in our lives, but we have reacted very differently to them. Usually, with most anything that I go through, I often meet someone with something similar around the same time. God often gives me the insight in interacting with them of "You know, it could have gone this way instead". This is not a "My way is right" post, but it is interesting to be able to see if I had made other choices- even in responding- to what has happened to me that has been out of my control, how things could be different. Both of the communities that I have gotten acquainted with from these two specific events- survivors of domestic abuse and strokes/neurological issues- I've had amazing insights since. Generally, those people are often still incredibly defensive, scared, wounded, shamed, and honestly- I think there may be a spiritual piece of control to the messages that keeps someone bound afterward. I'm grateful for God bringing along people that have patiently walked with me for the past 4.5 years and spoken TRUTH into my life instead and helped to correct the wrong beliefs I have held onto. Still, I realize that it's a spectrum and there is much that I still need to admit to and own up to, and more freedom to be attained yet.
As time enters the picture, giving me space from my traumatic events, I'm becoming more thankful for them. I always wanted "to be normal" (whatever that might be). Thoughts randomly pop up in comparison with others- 'well, what if SHE was fired, broken up with, assaulted, got a traumatic brain injury, were a medical anomaly, etc' then... This course of thinking is NEVER fruitful and just how Satan likes to distract me from the point of what I should be learning or responding. I didn't want to be different- for any reason or anything, even if it was a positive thing. Because I was gifted and smart. Because my brain was now rewired. Because I was a survivor of sexual assault. I don't want to flinch anytime I am alone with a man again. I don't want to be haunted by my past, afraid of those things happening again. But I'm thankful for the ticket to be able to enter in with people in similar situations and be able to proclaim hope instead. That it does get easier. That the night-terrors are real, but will diminish with time. That even though it doesn't feel like it now, you will be able to speak with power to proclaim freedom for others someday. That the fact that they have survived is a rarity in and of itself to be proud of. Many, if not most, sink, cower, and shrivel up. I'm not a victim. I am a survivor.
Both events took things from me that were out of my control. But I am still here. I'm still fighting. Temporarily knocked down, and forever changed, but I'm excited and energized to speak about some of those painful things now. Still in small groups or with individuals, because admitting what happened in any format that is larger still feels shameful. That's something I can dig at in a later time. This is a spectrum of acceptance, and I'll get there. But the freedom that I have begun to experience is amazing. Life changing. Invigorating. Not that I at all wanted these things to happen to me, but I'm becoming more thankful that I've been changed because of them. It's part of what makes me unique. An overcomer. Differences to take pride in now. I'm thankful to be able to see what has happened to me as opportunities for God to enter someone else's story that I get to interact with. To be that conduit of hope. I always said that I wanted a testimony I could be proud of and that would speak with power- I just didn't realize that I'd have to go THROUGH tough times to get THAT story. I still have healing to accept. To allow the change(s). I'm not anywhere where close to where I can speak confidently of the things that have happened to me with the power I know God will someday have in them. But that's OK. I'm beginning to embrace the journey to acceptance. And my story is not scripted as anyone else's either, so the comparison games are useless. And with that, I pack most of my things to move in to my new apartment in the morning. I know that this is going to be an exciting year with lot's to learn!
With love,
Amy Christine
I realize that after several of my own circumstances, things could have played out VERY differently. I smile THANKFUL that none of my past relationships worked out actually now... because many of them we would probably now be divorced, with a few children and my ex-husband in jail. I'm still thankful to be MISS NIXON and not Mrs. _____. Most days at least. If I hadn't met the Lord in High School... well, a Christian undergrad to study YOUTH MINISTRY and a Master's degree from A SEMINARY wouldn't have even crossed my mind. I would have laughed at you for even mentioning such a thing. I would instead be a teacher or a nurse. If I hadn't crossed the ocean to go with Mercy Ships to West Africa (without knowing anyone before I went), I wouldn't have met some of my dearest friends that I still love to pray with and catch up today. Seeing some of the world's deepest povertys' and injustices would have not alarmed me as much to come back to the stark contrast we live with daily in America.
If my brain hadn't exploded (That's one of the times that I feel free to be graphic. Because it did.) then I wouldn't have SO MANY resources after at my disposal to help me try and navigate life now. Because, turns out, America isn't very friendly to someone with a traumatic-brain injury. Especially mine but then also achieving my master's degree in counseling, a profession based upon insight, discernment, and memory. If things had turned out differently, I wouldn't be here today, and would have died in my sleep. Try that line at a cocktail party :) If I hadn't moved back to the Midwest, I would have clung to the idea returning later to be closer to family once I had a family of my own. Trying handfuls of medication(s) to control my seasonal depression helped to show me that there isn't a quick fix for how depression presents in my body. Being sexually assaulted is a WHOLE mixed bag, and has been only slightly processed thus far still. His choice(s) resulted in his divorce and a criminal record, but those children will not daily live with thinking that it's OK to treat a woman the way that he did to me or his wife at the time. There was so much survivor guilt and shame (it's typical with assaults) but was compounded all the more so after my stroke, and recent relocation and grief of a break up. My chronic pain(s) have allowed me to have compassion on others who also have some sort of medical ailment, that the medical community has no idea what to do with. (Side note- it's incredibly frustrating to sit across from a doctor and have them tell you "We don't know why". My response is almost always internal of "then I shouldn't have to pay for today's visit, since you went to school for a dozen years and I still get to be a mystery" Ok, rant done.)
I know of a few people who have had a few similar circumstances in our lives, but we have reacted very differently to them. Usually, with most anything that I go through, I often meet someone with something similar around the same time. God often gives me the insight in interacting with them of "You know, it could have gone this way instead". This is not a "My way is right" post, but it is interesting to be able to see if I had made other choices- even in responding- to what has happened to me that has been out of my control, how things could be different. Both of the communities that I have gotten acquainted with from these two specific events- survivors of domestic abuse and strokes/neurological issues- I've had amazing insights since. Generally, those people are often still incredibly defensive, scared, wounded, shamed, and honestly- I think there may be a spiritual piece of control to the messages that keeps someone bound afterward. I'm grateful for God bringing along people that have patiently walked with me for the past 4.5 years and spoken TRUTH into my life instead and helped to correct the wrong beliefs I have held onto. Still, I realize that it's a spectrum and there is much that I still need to admit to and own up to, and more freedom to be attained yet.
As time enters the picture, giving me space from my traumatic events, I'm becoming more thankful for them. I always wanted "to be normal" (whatever that might be). Thoughts randomly pop up in comparison with others- 'well, what if SHE was fired, broken up with, assaulted, got a traumatic brain injury, were a medical anomaly, etc' then... This course of thinking is NEVER fruitful and just how Satan likes to distract me from the point of what I should be learning or responding. I didn't want to be different- for any reason or anything, even if it was a positive thing. Because I was gifted and smart. Because my brain was now rewired. Because I was a survivor of sexual assault. I don't want to flinch anytime I am alone with a man again. I don't want to be haunted by my past, afraid of those things happening again. But I'm thankful for the ticket to be able to enter in with people in similar situations and be able to proclaim hope instead. That it does get easier. That the night-terrors are real, but will diminish with time. That even though it doesn't feel like it now, you will be able to speak with power to proclaim freedom for others someday. That the fact that they have survived is a rarity in and of itself to be proud of. Many, if not most, sink, cower, and shrivel up. I'm not a victim. I am a survivor.
Both events took things from me that were out of my control. But I am still here. I'm still fighting. Temporarily knocked down, and forever changed, but I'm excited and energized to speak about some of those painful things now. Still in small groups or with individuals, because admitting what happened in any format that is larger still feels shameful. That's something I can dig at in a later time. This is a spectrum of acceptance, and I'll get there. But the freedom that I have begun to experience is amazing. Life changing. Invigorating. Not that I at all wanted these things to happen to me, but I'm becoming more thankful that I've been changed because of them. It's part of what makes me unique. An overcomer. Differences to take pride in now. I'm thankful to be able to see what has happened to me as opportunities for God to enter someone else's story that I get to interact with. To be that conduit of hope. I always said that I wanted a testimony I could be proud of and that would speak with power- I just didn't realize that I'd have to go THROUGH tough times to get THAT story. I still have healing to accept. To allow the change(s). I'm not anywhere where close to where I can speak confidently of the things that have happened to me with the power I know God will someday have in them. But that's OK. I'm beginning to embrace the journey to acceptance. And my story is not scripted as anyone else's either, so the comparison games are useless. And with that, I pack most of my things to move in to my new apartment in the morning. I know that this is going to be an exciting year with lot's to learn!
With love,
Amy Christine
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
Redemption :)
I’m tearful again as I write this, as I writing from the cafeteria of the hospital that has given so much back to me. I was at Craig Hospital after my stroke in 2009, and relearned how to walk, talk, swallow, and began to think critically again after my dissection. 3.5 months in the hospital, 5 weeks that I can’t recall any longer- just gone.
I had a meeting here earlier this morning, and I’m going to see one of my favorite OT’s this afternoon, so I’m sticking around. When I was a patient here, I couldn't remember my breakfast from that morning. That remained true for about another year or 1.5, even being in graduate school. Beyond humbling to have to re-learn how to learn and go back to school (which used to come easy) and have it take everything to remain alert enough to concentrate on school. Anywhoo… I’m sitting at a table in the cafeteria today and people are walking by AND I REMEMBER THEM. THEIR NAMES. WHAT WE DID 4 YEARS AGO TOGETHER. They may have just drawn my blood or been a receptionist that I would walk past as I was relearning stamina with my stride again, BUT I REMEMBER WHO THEY ARE. That’s a big deal. I’m going to celebrate it.
There is a verse in Genesis 50 that has come to mind so many times in the last 4.5 years. “You intended to harm me, but God intended it all for good…” (Genesis 50:20a) It’s been humbling to talk with doctors that worked on me after my stroke or performed my surgeries and have them tell you “You should have died” or "If the stroke had happened even a fraction of a centimeter over here, you wouldn't be able to ____" That’s sobering. It has taken hearing it a few times of it for me to not sob when some medical professional says it to me again, usually while hold my scans of my brain. The scans that I have are truly a miracle. There are no other words. Even doctors who don't profess Christ tell me that. What Satan intended to harm me, has actually been utilized by God to turn around and let others see Him through my broken body. Again, humbling. Not how I would have done things. Not how I would have written the story. He’s using the broken and deep hurts within me to let others see Him at work.
Although there are bright spots of accomplishment over the last 4.5 years, it hasn’t been easy. At all. It’s been incredibly refining, humbling, and beyond hard. I've continued to push through- I'm not giving up since I've been given another chance at life itself. But little moments like being able to remember people at Craig today- that is totally needed as I’ve become weary with the chronic pains and my moves. I’m grasping for some stability in a land that often misunderstands what it is to live with a traumatic brain injury. I get the opportunity to live and prove their conceptions wrong. That's a big deal too. I don't take it lightly, but there are days when giving up seems like a much more viable option. But instead, I continue to ask God what else He would have me do. To let go of others' opinions and work for His approval instead. Just thought I would share the awesomeness of today's events with all of you! Much love from Denver :)
Love,
Amy Christine
I had a meeting here earlier this morning, and I’m going to see one of my favorite OT’s this afternoon, so I’m sticking around. When I was a patient here, I couldn't remember my breakfast from that morning. That remained true for about another year or 1.5, even being in graduate school. Beyond humbling to have to re-learn how to learn and go back to school (which used to come easy) and have it take everything to remain alert enough to concentrate on school. Anywhoo… I’m sitting at a table in the cafeteria today and people are walking by AND I REMEMBER THEM. THEIR NAMES. WHAT WE DID 4 YEARS AGO TOGETHER. They may have just drawn my blood or been a receptionist that I would walk past as I was relearning stamina with my stride again, BUT I REMEMBER WHO THEY ARE. That’s a big deal. I’m going to celebrate it.
There is a verse in Genesis 50 that has come to mind so many times in the last 4.5 years. “You intended to harm me, but God intended it all for good…” (Genesis 50:20a) It’s been humbling to talk with doctors that worked on me after my stroke or performed my surgeries and have them tell you “You should have died” or "If the stroke had happened even a fraction of a centimeter over here, you wouldn't be able to ____" That’s sobering. It has taken hearing it a few times of it for me to not sob when some medical professional says it to me again, usually while hold my scans of my brain. The scans that I have are truly a miracle. There are no other words. Even doctors who don't profess Christ tell me that. What Satan intended to harm me, has actually been utilized by God to turn around and let others see Him through my broken body. Again, humbling. Not how I would have done things. Not how I would have written the story. He’s using the broken and deep hurts within me to let others see Him at work.
Although there are bright spots of accomplishment over the last 4.5 years, it hasn’t been easy. At all. It’s been incredibly refining, humbling, and beyond hard. I've continued to push through- I'm not giving up since I've been given another chance at life itself. But little moments like being able to remember people at Craig today- that is totally needed as I’ve become weary with the chronic pains and my moves. I’m grasping for some stability in a land that often misunderstands what it is to live with a traumatic brain injury. I get the opportunity to live and prove their conceptions wrong. That's a big deal too. I don't take it lightly, but there are days when giving up seems like a much more viable option. But instead, I continue to ask God what else He would have me do. To let go of others' opinions and work for His approval instead. Just thought I would share the awesomeness of today's events with all of you! Much love from Denver :)
Love,
Amy Christine
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)