After turning the electricity down by .20 volts last Tuesday, I was pleasantly surprised. My leg and foot curled back up, turned in and did all the things it did before I had deep brain stimulation (this was not the pleasantly surprised part!), with one rather huge exception – I was actually walking pretty well. I was not expecting that.
Wednesday night, I got home from church, where I had just told someone that I didn’t feel any effects yet, only to walk outside to the mailbox with nothing but my own two legs and feet. Grant it, I did walk on the grass (which is very much like walking on the sand for me), but I didn’t have a walker or a cane with me! And that all transpired because I was too lazy to get my cane out of the car and I didn’t want to drag the walker out with me.
By Thursday, I was “shouting from the rooftop” again. On that day, I walked from one building to another at work with just my cane. I walked to and from my desk at work to the kitchen/break-room WITHOUT ANY ASSISTANCE. I carried my cane with me (for that “just in case” moment), but I carried it, I didn’t use it. It was awesome. It’s one of those “glimpses of hope” moments that God so graciously bestows upon me when I start feeling like nothing’s happening. God’s not dead. He’s always, always, always working – sometimes, front and center, sometimes in the background, but nevertheless He’s working. I’ve also been reminded this week that He’s always there. He’s walking beside me, behind me, in front of me. He’s there.
Today, I did turn the electricity back up by .10 volts. I still have time to play with it before I go back to Vanderbilt and since my foot and leg are now turning in again, I decided to see what being on 2.60 volts of electricity will do. Last week I went down by .20 volts, so I’ve actually never been on 2.60 volts on the B frequency.
I’ll see what it does. Today hasn’t been the best walking day, but I’m beginning to realize the days I do adjusting to the electricity are never really great walking days. When I got in to work this morning this was awaiting me on my desk:
I don’t know who it’s from, but thank you to whomever gave it to me!
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| My hair continues to grow! |
Friday was good. Work let out at 2pm so we could get the Labor Day weekend off to a fantastic start. I got to see my niece, Little G, for about half an hour and that always makes for a great day. Later that afternoon, I started reading a book that my friend Kristen let me borrow. I had actually asked for it for my birthday back in June because I had read a review on it and it sounded like something I would like. While I didn’t get it for my birthday, I do believe it’s because I wasn’t supposed to read it until now. The book is called, “When Breath Becomes Air”. I thought it was going to be a sad book. I wasn’t sure I could handle sad on Friday, but, I started reading it and I couldn’t put it down. I thought I knew what the book was about – I thought wrong. I knew it was written by a neurosurgeon and that he had died. That’s about it. Dr. Kalanithi was the age I am now (36) when he was diagnosed with metastatic stage IV non-small-cell EGFR-positive lung cancer. The book blew me away. Maybe it’s because of where I am in life. Maybe it’s because of my love of medicine and my faith in God. Maybe it’s because I found myself in between the words on the pages of the book. Maybe it’s because God is working on me. I don’t know. All I know is that this book has (and I believe will continue to have) had a profound effect on me.
I have to share this one part of the book:
“At some point, then, I began to do a little bargaining-or not exactly bargaining. More like: “God, I have read Job, and I don’t understand it, but if this is a test of faith, you now realize my faith is fairly weak, and probably leaving the spicy mustard off the pastrami sandwich would have also tested it? You didn’t have to go nuclear on me, you know…”
OH.MY.GOODNESS. I don’t have cancer (which I am exceedingly beyond grateful for!!), but that paragraph – it was like I was writing that!!
Saturday was a relaxing day (sleeping in and going to bed early), sprinkled with the “weekend errands” that always exist. Sometimes the mundane is just what a soul needs. It struck me Saturday night that when I have to get things done, I get them done. Modified, maybe, but I do get them done. I can’t thank the Lord enough for those mundane days!
God also gave me an epiphany on Saturday. It hit me like a ton of bricks. It was this: I have not been asking God (recently) for exactly what I want. Like: “Hi God. It’s me, Stephanie. I want to walk again. I want to walk WITHOUT a walker and WITHOUT a cane. Can you do this for me by September 22? I’m asking. I’m begging. I know I don’t deserve it, but here it is. Please, please, please. I do have faith that you can and do perform miracles. Please forgive me for the moments my faith lacks.” Oh, don’t get me wrong – I pray. But lately, I’ve gotten tired of asking for the same thing. I ask for God’s will to be done. I ask to just be able to use the cane and not the walker. I ask different things, but I haven’t recently been asking straight out for Him to heal me and allow me to walk without any assistance. That may surprise some people. It’s just that I get so tired sometimes of asking. God says "ask and you shall receive", so I’m asking. Bluntly, boldly, selfishly. I’m asking. Now, I know, just as much as you do, that God may not answer like I want, but at least I’m asking and He knows exactly what I want!
Sunday. Well, Sunday I learned a lot and in the most unexpected ways! Attendance was rather low at church due to the fact that a lot of members (including my mom and dad) were at the Grace Lutheran Family Retreat up at Fontana Dam in North Carolina. But that didn’t stop God from working! While I used the walker to get into church, I set it on the back wall in the Family Life Center and opted to just use the cane. I knew we had communion. We do processional communion in the 11am service. I was sitting next to my friends Brian and Whitney. I knew that they would help me get up to and back from communion if I needed help, but that they would also let me try it on my own if I so desired. I said a prayer that I’d make it up to communion and back without falling. All went well until it was my turn to receive the Body of Christ. I somehow managed to trip and bump into the plate Pastor Mark was holding. Let me say right now, Pastor Mark has cat-like reflexes!! Not only did he catch me, he caught the plate too! Way to go, Pastor Mark. Crisis averted. It could have been a lot worse! I made it back to my seat. God answered my prayer - I didn't fall, but maybe I should have been just a tad bit more specific in my request. ;) This was not at all how I thought communion would go, but somehow just how I needed communion to go. I don’t even know how to explain that last sentence. It’s just that God was there, as He always is in communion, but He was also there is His servants. Pastor Mark and the elders, the communion helpers and Brian and Whitney and all those that dined on His body and blood.
The music at church spoke to me on Sunday as well. To be honest, the music has been speaking to me week after week after week. After the service, I went to tell our worship leader thank you for bringing God’s Word through song. We started talking about the music and our day-to-day struggles, physical ailments and “When is God going to open the door I keep knocking at?!”. I saw God in John and the conversation we had. Again, it’s exactly what I needed when I needed it. John left me with a question: What if God chooses NOT to heal? I’ve heard this many, many times before, but sometimes it takes a conversation you never expected to have to make it hit home. What if God chooses not to heal? Will I be OK? Yes – emphatically, I say – I even shout - YES!!! I won’t like it one bit. I’ll fight it. I’ll ask why. I’ll have pity parties for myself. But emphatically, yes, I will be OK. I’ll be even more than OK.
When I got home Sunday after church, I read an article in my local newspaper. It was taken from the Associated Press and written by Nicole Winfield. It was titled, “Mother Teresa: A saint despite spiritual ‘darkness’”. Many of you may already know this, but I did not:
Mother Teresa “felt so abandoned by God that she was unable to pray and was convinced, despite her ever-present smile, that she was experiencing “the tortures of hell”. For nearly 50 years, Mother Teresa endured what the church calls a “dark night of the soul” – a period of spiritual doubt, despair and loneliness.”
Again – just what I needed when I needed it. I have my own internal battles that I try to keep hidden from most of the world. While they may be hidden behind a smile, God knows they are there.
Monday, I had off of work for Labor Day. I cleaned the house. There’s “spring cleaning” – there should also be “fall cleaning”! I scrubbed toilets and microwaves (although not with the same scrubbing materials!). I dusted. I vacuumed. I sorted through paperwork. I ran the dishwasher. I hung pictures. I labored on Labor Day. And I only fell once! Actually, I wouldn’t even call it a fall. I took a knee. Literally, I did just that. I landed on one knee on the carpet. No injury, no being upset. I just took a knee.
God knows that sometimes it’s so much easier to write about my feelings then to share them face-to-face with people. I’m extremely introverted with a slice of extroversion thrown in for good measure – ha! I can be extremely extroverted at times, but that’s not my core being. I have to work at it. Writing is a refuge for me. I’ve had many people say that I should write a book. I’ve told those many people, I have nothing to say. But maybe, while I don’t have anything to say, God has something to say through me? So, I’ll let the Lord lead me. If He so desires, I may start writing a book. It may be a book no one will ever see. It may never be shared with anyone or even published. But then again, maybe it will. Only time will tell. So, now that I’ve written a mini book here just now, I’ll call this a post and say God’s Got This – all of it, the good, the bad, the ugly, the mundane, the beautiful and ME – He’s got me. On this I rest.
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