Each time I call my prosthetic provider the answering service is clear in stating, “If this is an emergency call the after-hours hotline”. I have always wondered what exactly would be considered an emergency to a Prosthetist? It’s not like you can be physically in danger using a fake leg…but then again all those warning labels we see are for something so I finally resolved that an emergency would be considered when a fake leg completely broke after hours. After such pondering it was only inevitable that the day came when I received a new leg and needed pants to fit it. (Nearly every time I get a new leg I need to buy new pants because each leg makes my waist line a different size since I am fitted at hip-level.) It was a dreary day when I headed to the store and on my way out of the store the floor was wet and I wiped out. Now when I say I “wiped out” I do not mean a pretty little slip-around where I was able to appear to be speed-skating and still manage to hold my purse and salvage my dignity. No, no, I mean a flat-on-my-back-purse-goes-soaring-rolling-and-flailing while screaming, “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!” kind of wipe out. Right there in front of everyone. Really, I couldn’t get back up because my new leg had a new hip joint and knee and I couldn’t figure out how to get them to work together so I kept catapulting forwards and backwards as one would bend and the other would straighten like a broken jack-in-the-box. This display was truly the closest thing to a flopping seal Seaworld expo you would find in Pennsylvania.
Eventually, (I’m convinced it was half an hour but more than likely was somewhere between five and ten seconds) I decided to play possum and wait for someone to come and check my pulse before helping me up. After making it to the car and leaving management with their own half-convinced smiles that I would not come back with a lawsuit I headed home in my state of shame wondering (based on the dirty state of my clothing) how they could have sent me away without at least a gift certificate to the dry cleaner or new pair of jeans. It was on my drive home that I realized how badly messed up my fake leg was from the fall. It was completely askew. Foot pointing one way, hip pointing another, immediately the “crooked little lady” nursery rhyme started playing in my head on repeat. After several hours of my husband and father working on my crooked piece of equipment I decided this would definitely be constituted as an emergency for a prosthetist. I mean hello…if you break your real leg that is an emergency to the real-body doctor so when you break your fake leg that should be an emergency to the fake-leg doctor, right? I was a woman with no leg and now filthy clothes. I had just sprawled out in a very public place and was more crooked than a bank robber! I needed to make the call!
Fixing my leg…A FAIL I might add!
Calling the hotline I was curtly informed by the on-call doctor (and to this day I am sure I heard thumping music and smelled grilling through the phone) that if I felt I was hurt I should call 911 and that a crooked leg was not an emergency, “Feel better and call the office on Monday for an appointmen…” I was instructed as the voice on the other end dissipated before even getting out the “t”.
Four years later I was recently reminded of this incident. I asked my doctor’s office what exactly is an emergency to a prosthetic provider? “There have been several cases where a patient cannot get their leg off, this can be bad news and counts as an emergency,” I was told. That’s it? If my wedding ring is stuck on and I call 911 I’m sure they will laugh and tell me to try soap and water or baby oil. Sorry to say this but I definitely feel if a stuck leg can be an emergency then my embarrassing, crooked, and broken tragedy should definitely count to the fake-leg doctor. You don’t need to get the Jaws of Life out to work a leg loose for crying out loud! Shaking my head I resigned myself to the fact that here, like all insurance claims, justice can be a fleeting thought…
*This article is meant as a piece of humor and in no way aims to poke fun or laugh at those that have had their legs or arms stuck on. I have had that happen too and agree it’s no fun. It can be scary but I do advise you try some baby oil and laugh along with me…
Please share my poetry and writings via links on this blog with anyone you think would be encouraged! Please also be considerate of my hard work and use my name and blog to credit my writing and photographs.
I am available for speaking engagements if you would like to hear my story told from a humorous yet inspiring perspective or hear me speak on a specific topic.
Please contact me at ash8410@hotmail.com or via Facebook if you are interested!
Any other requests including writing topic requests, questions, comments, etc. that you do not want to leave on this website can be also emailed to ash8410@hotmail.com or sent via message on Facebook.
Shalom to each of you as you receive God’s grace and renewal each day!
Growing up reading Anne of Green Gables and watching Cinderella I was such a romantic young girl that dreamed of being swept off her feet one day by Prince Charming. It was all I ever wanted and many trips to Disney as a young girl reinforced the idea of charming dances, beautiful dresses, flowers in my hair, and someone to hold my hand through everything.
After losing my leg I would climb a tree in the middle of the summer and sit out on a limb as long as possible completely engrossed in my romantic books and daydreaming about what Prince Charming would be like for me. Of course as the sun would set and I would need to crawl out of the tree using my arms and not legs I would snap out of it and realize that being disabled didn’t fit into the fairy tale world of romance. Heck, it didn’t even fit into the real world I saw around me.
Watching a neighbor girl whisper with her boyfriend and hold hands, share secrets and take long walks I would rub my head where my new hair was just growing back in (I had been bald from chemotherapy) and then twirl on the way back to the house as I imagined long beautiful locks and a ballroom gown. I secretly would dream of Beauty and the Beast and think if I could just find a beast somewhere that he would think I am beautiful just the way I was and would accept me and love me.
The thing was, I knew it was all in my head. I really believed that I would never have anyone to share with. I heard an adult speaking about me one night and they had said, “Look at her, who would want her? She will never find anyone!” Deep inside I truly believed that the ugly little bald-headed girl that I was would be alone forever. Still, I could dream, couldn’t I?
Now that I am married I want to explore some of the ways that romance is different with a disability. It doesn’t mean that it is better or worse but it certainly doesn’t line up with what our society sets as a standard.
Being disabled means I don’t get to hold my husband’s hand when I am walking. My hands are on my crutches and even when I wear my leg my balance is too imperfect and it becomes tedious for me. Likewise, my husband cannot walk with his arm around me because it will trip me or throw me off balance just the same. I don’t know what the closeness of walking arm in arm with someone would be. When he places his arm around my waist I have a plastic leg piece there and cannot feel his touch at the small of my back, an intimate touch I have heard described by so many friends as being wonderful. Being disabled also means that I don’t have the luxury of dancing and free movement that many couples can share. The spontaneity of a spouse gripping you up and dancing about the kitchen or a brief twirl as you pass in the hallway is something I have never experienced. As a matter of fact the freedom and spontaneity that so often define romance in our thinking is not much an option when you are hauling around a disability. Typically my days need to be planned around how I feel and how my body is reacting that day. It will depend on how long I can/will wear my prosthesis and how much walking is entailed. There is so much planning that goes into my day so when it comes to sweeping me off my foot or surprising me my husband is usually stumped (pun intended).
Often times in public with people staring at us and gawking/pointing/commenting I feel much more an object or animal than a person. It definitely doesn’t make me feel like a woman that is being appreciated for her beauty and charisma as her husband is affirmed in his choice. Haha…nah…I usually walk in public places with my head down just to avoid the inevitable hurtfulness that can come from being something I cannot change. Yes, I have even dated men that were ashamed of me in public and readily admitted this to me and others. Low confidence is something that is dished out in full platter servings to a disabled woman wherever she turns in this society we live in. One repair man at my own home asked what happened to my leg and when I explained looked at my husband with a disgusted shake of his head and said, “Well…I guess if you don’t care or have a problem with her no one else should.”
When my husband goes out of his way for me it is more likely because I need help than because he is being romantic. Each meal that I don’t have my prosthesis on for I need my plate and drink carried to the table. Any stepladder work must be assisted, and carrying in groceries is exhausting for me. On a bad day I even need help carrying the laundry to the washer or vacuuming. In the smallest of ways I can need help and there are times when my husband is rightfully frustrated with my demands for him to drop what he is doing in order to help me. Another ticker on the low self-confidence sheet for a disabled woman: reliance.
So maybe it is time to change the standard of what romance is? I often feel disconnected from romance and from the feeling of being truly wooed and loved because I am so engulfed in my own situation(s). I have spent countless hours over the years crying and pleading to find ways to be “normal” according to the fairy tale stories our society is modeled after. Finally, I am starting to realize that romance for me isn’t necessarily the same as romance for the rest of the world. Now I long to see a romance novel written for disabled young girls so that they can have the idea redefined and learn what true love and romance would look like for them. After talking to my husband about this we both agreed that romance for us flows from a much deeper place; a place that goes beyond the surface infatuations.
If you ask my husband if he is attracted to me he will say without hesitation, “Absolutely!” While I do believe that he is answering truthfully the problem lies within for not grasping that someone, anyone, could truly find me to be that way with the disability I have. I’ve had 25 full years of hard evidence proving otherwise. Our intimate life and moments are no different than for any other couple in the world. If anything, my husband feels as though I appreciate him so much more because he loves me when I don’t feel I deserve his love. I do not take him for granted and do everything in my power to make him aware of that. He feels the appreciation I have for him as he loves this disabled woman takes our bond to a more substantial depth than a lot of relationships ever reach.
When I think of our romantic story the small moments come to my mind immediately. The wonderful hugs from behind, the holding hands when we pray quietly, the times we reflect on our day together and encourage each other. I think it is romantic when I am in tears and so fed up with my life and physical hardship and he stops to wipe my tears away with his hands cupping my face to tell me he loves me. I think it is romantic when he takes me to the bookstore just because it is my favorite place and then pretends to be interested in every quote I stumble across and feel the need to explain over hot chocolate.
Sure, romance isn’t always perfect for us especially when in public. There are the times that I have fallen flat on my face or back during a romantic stroll or dinner. My leg has fallen off before and I have been unable to take another step until rescued. Just earlier this year we tried to have a romantic walk on the beach together when right in the middle of it we heard a “pop!” and my leg broke. Talk about killing the romance! But that is where the laughter came in to save us. We laughed together as we worked out a solution and sat in the sand watching the waves. Maybe romance is just simply not being alone?
My husband said this morning, “I believe our romance is special because everything that we can do romantically is more meaningful to you than other women could even imagine.” He summed it up completely in one short sentence. Romance for me as a disabled woman is appreciating the little moments and savoring them. When things do go right those moments take a much deeper meaning to me than they would to anyone else. To me, the love that is in my husband’s heart as he helps me each day (no matter how much I hate to admit it) is romance. The protective glare he shoots at strangers in defense of me when we are being stared at is another morsel of romance to savor. Knowing that I could spend my whole life looking for a man to love me and never find someone to love me even close to as much as he does is romance.
As I think back I realize that Jesus has been trying to teach me this for many years. When I first read the book of Esther I felt the strings of my heart being pulled by the romance/reality of this story. Esther surely couldn’t have been the most pretty and charismatic of women in the kingdom no matter how stunning she looked. In fact she didn’t choose the jewels and adornments the other maidens chose to impress the king. She surely wasn’t in the best of predicaments being forced to live in the King’s castle and rely on him for her very life and the lives of her people. Nor was she likely to be the chosen queen at the end of her night with the King. Yet she WAS chosen and I believe with all my heart it was for way more than her looks or ability.
I feel God, My King, who knows my heart desires deeper than anyone has always tried to assure me that I am chosen and it is not based on my looks or (dis)ability. He has given me so much favor, so many “winks” and little moments in my life that allow me to smile and know they were straight from him. Whether I was sitting alone by the water writing or being rescued when my car broke down I know God himself has been romantically wooing my heart for many years as he has held my hand and stood by my side every single day.
I am so blessed to not only be a part of the greatest romance (loving Jesus) mankind has ever experienced but also a part of an earthly romantic marriage. Through my husband God has healed my heart in so many ways and allowed me to experience so many of the dreams I had as a young girl. Of course there are many more that I still have not experienced but instead of focusing on society’s idea of romance I am choosing to stick to the scripture and to what romance looks like when based on a heart of love. Again, maybe romance is simply not being alone.
Not a fairy tale romance? Well, maybe we can fix that and write our own…
“Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.” James 1:2-5
As I prepare for speaking at the Sisters in Christ Event taking place in March many things have been brewing in my mind. Looking back over my personal life journey I have been asking God to show me how he has woven my story together in a unique way. A lot of my thinking has been most recently during my daily walks. I’m learning that a whole lot of thinking can happen in a short twenty minutes of silence!
It seems to me that each and every time I think about some of the events that caused pain in my life and how they may or may not have benefited me I hear a rap song replay in my head. Yes, back in my younger years rap music was one of my favorite genres and if you know my story (See “About” section on my homepage) you will understand that it truly fit in with my incorrect “life is a battle” mentality. There was one song in particular that I used to love and while I cannot remember the artist or the lyrics (who could decipher them anyway) yet one line has stuck in my head and continually blared internally for about three weeks now. The line is, “HEY! Now walk it out…now walk it out…now walk it out…and walk it out…” (If you have passed by a lady walking three dogs up the road screaming this tune at the top of her lungs and doing a little dance then you have most definitely just passed me!)
“So also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead.” James 2:17
When I think about the most literal of examples to “walk it out” immediately the past nine months jumps to the forefront of my mind. Through the trial and struggle of finding a new leg that works for me and finding a way to live life as mobile as possible in order to succeed I have had only one choice in regards to my response: Walk it out! Even now that I deem the worst of the process over, with my new leg is “in hand” and my best foot in front of me (pun intended) I still must continue to “walk it out” in order to reach the point of maximum benefit. Let’s face it, if I don’t walk with my new leg I will not adjust to it and the doctor will not be able to make further improvements without feedback. A leg in the closet doesn’t benefit anyone; least of all me.
So as I walk up the road and feel the list of things that are uncomfortable, rubbing, pinching, and needing correction I want to run to the doctor for help at first availability. But I have been reminding myself that the first thing I need to do is to continue to walk and allow my body to adjust as much as it can so that my doctor can differentiate between what is actually causing the problem: my leg or my weak muscle habits.
The same is true in life. I feel this is a perfect picture as to what oftentimes our faith looks and seems like with God. So many times that we are up against a struggle it is easier to simply take our leg off and put it in the closet. “Let’s NOT walk today”, we think. “Let’s take a break from walking and we will pick it back up later.” How many times do we allow our walk with God to be on the back burner simply because we know waiting and having faith is not the easy way?
There are also times that we are attempting to walk in faith and then things suddenly become uncomfortable. We feel a little pinching here, rubbing there, or maybe we can point our fingers at what someone else needs to fix in order to make our walk of faith easier. How easy it is to want to beg our way out of it! How simple it would be to take the leg off and place it back in the closet! Easier yet, to make a prayer appointment with “Doctor Jesus” to complain and whine and beg for Him to fix it all so we don’t have to face any hardship.
Very simply put: we must keep walking and exercising so that we can strengthen our own muscles of character and intimacy with Jesus and allow our doctor (Jesus) to fix the things that are beyond our scope of capacity.
While this is a very literal example of “Walking it out”, in light of the grander picture of my life I have been reflecting on the number of times that I have come against struggles and have had to walk them out. While I know my heavenly Father has loved me and desired to not see me suffer in any way He has in his wisdom truly allowed what he could have easily prevented in His power. He has allowed me to walk out many situations where I have had to look to Him and allow my roots to grow deeper and stronger while being steadily transformed into who He created me to be.
“And without faith it is impossible to please him, for whoever would draw near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him.” Hebrews 11:6
I believe that our faith must reach a point where it crosses over from “believing” to “knowing”. Graham Cooke speaks of this and I believe it is an extremely spot-on and relevant topic that many Christians today could benefit from. You see, I may have faith that God will provide for me during a tough time. God will give me faith to believe and to pray for the provision that He provides. But when that provision comes I no longer need faith because the provision is now right in front of my eyes. I see and KNOW that the provision I once had faith for has been given. Now I no longer have faith that God is Jehovah-Jireh (The Lord Provides) but I have experienced Him personally as Jehovah-Jireh. Next time that I need provision I will have a new and upgraded faith that has been salted with the seasoning of experience. Walking out our tough times leads us to experiencing (moving from faith in believing to knowing) God in a way that we otherwise would not have had opportunity to.
Living in Faith is: Walking it out!
In the movie “God is Not Dead” there is a scene at the end of the movie where the preacher has had car trouble throughout the movie and he is about to take his out-of-town (also a preacher) friend somewhere. The out of town preacher prays that the Lord will make the car start. The preacher then heads to start the car but is corrected by his friend who says, “Hey, load the bags in the trunk first. We spend our lives preaching faith let’s practice it.” The preacher reluctantly loads the bags before seeing if the car will even start and is suddenly surprised and full of thanksgiving when the car starts and his faith-filled action was rewarded.
How many opportunities do we have on a daily basis to “Walk it Out!”? When we pray for or about something are we responding with our words and actions as if God has already answered our prayer? Or do we pray and then put our leg back in the closet (live in a way that our words and actions do not line up with believing)?
“As God has said: ‘I will live with them and walk among them, and I will be their God, and they will be my people.” 2 Corinthians 6:16b
“The only way over is through it” has been taught to each of us. Whatever we face and whatever we are up against let us start walking through it in faith and with comfort that we are not alone. Let’s face things knowing that God is moving us from a place of believing in faith for Him to come through to a place of experiencing Him as a God who answers. God is already on the other side, in the beginning, and in the middle of everything we need. He is just allowing us opportunity to exercise moving our perceptions of Him from faith to experience.
How will you experience God this week? Let’s “Walk it out!” and find out!
The past few months I have struggled to find words and ways to write. My life hasn’t looked very positive on the outside and things have been harder for me than I ever imagined back in January 2014. While I groped around in seeming darkness for something to write about it hit me the other day that I should simply write about my year. Since then I have been finding words to put to this most recent “leg” of my journey so that I can share with you how I have been this past year and about my desire for 2015 to be a more pleasant and cheerful year.
On January 6, 2014 I felt the Lord wanted to speak to me about my upcoming year. I sat with a pen and the following flowed forth:
“This is a year for shaking. 2013 was a year for roots. 2014 is shaking and strengthening those roots. Know who you are called to help and who must find their own way with Me.
Your roots are sufficient for this time but they are not complete yet! They will continue to grow as you take to heart the importance of the shaking around you. Respect me but do not fear. I am around you and my spirit is within you!
Wisdom this year will be granted freely along with my power. You will need the former to operate in the latter. Expect miracles to start. Expect boldness in your faith. I will shift things and level the playing field this year.
The desires of your heart are also mine. I say to you: MY TIME. You will fall on your knees and rejoice, you will cry out to the lover of your soul as of yet! You have been afraid of the intensity in me…in you. But let go. Abandon All!
Friendships that are in me will last. Others let go and allow me to work.
Don’t wait until the end of the day to approach me. I will walk you through every transition. Be a fragrance, be a light, my presence will engulf you in intimacy.”
About nine months ago I embarked on a journey to find a new prosthetist and get a more comfortable leg for walking and for living the highly active lifestyle I desire. I wrote about this in “A New Leg of My Journey – https://crutchprints.com/2014/05/21/a-new-leg-of-my-journey/” and now as I look back at the fresh and vigorous approach I started with I wonder how I got to this point of being so tired and worn down.
Since June I have been in and out of the doctor office between one and three times every week. I am blessed to not have a job during this time because I simply could not have taken the amount of time off. Each time the leg was adjusted or changed my entire way of life changed with it. The things I could do around the house last week suddenly had to be done in a new and different way. It was exhausting finding different ways to do laundry, carry groceries, weed my gardens, and exercise. With every small adjustment to the leg my entire body shifted and my back would ache, my good leg would have pressure applied in different and sometimes painful ways, and new muscles would need to be broken in. Just as I would begin to adjust to the new changes I would go back for my next 4-5 hour appointment and the process of finding a new “everyday normal” would begin all over again. As I watched my dog chase his tail the other day I realized I no longer laughed at him but rather felt the depth of his frustration since I have literally done the very same thing for over 30 weeks at this point.
The past six months I have been forced to face some of the grief that comes from having one leg and the loss of not being able to complete tasks as a “normal” person. Post Trauma issues flared in the midst of the very real physical and mental stress that was placed on my body. The issues that flared came in the form of headaches, nightmares, depression, flashbacks, stressed relationships; more tears than I have ever shed in a short time before. If ever I was on a boat forging through a typhoon it has been the past six months.
Hopefully by now you get the picture. This journey has been a very lonely one. I mean, how do you express to people around you what you are going through? How do you find words to express the pain when all that your friends want to hear is positivity? Was I positive throughout this? Absolutely. Did I know it would all work out because God was in this process? Of course! Did I have the promise from God given to me in January to hold onto? Yes. Yet somewhere and somehow I needed to express some of what was happening to me without judgment or without someone trying to “fix” it or point out the positive light in it.
Yes, I know everyone has seen someone on TV a year ago that could jump 8 feet straight up in the air and clean their chimney, drop a few presents down and hop back down with their mechanic leg…but that’s not me or my life. The marathon runners everyone sees are not hip disarticulate amputees. The special legs that link to the brain are so expensive my insurance company would find it cheaper to assassinate me. And before I hear it again of course I know there is always someone “worse off” than me! Those weren’t the answers that I needed the past six months. What I really truly needed was someone to hear my pain and respond in three simple words, “Wow that sucks.”
In this process boundaries became a critical glue for me. Not to keep others out but to keep me in. I needed to stay contained and in a place that I didn’t run all over the place like jello (the words of a friend). Sticking close to home, spending a lot of time alone, not seeing many people outside of a very small group and learning to say “no” even if it meant cancelling plans were some of the boundaries I had to allow myself freedom to use. Unable to walk for exercise I found outlet in using a stationary bike, canning my garden produce, and knitting/embroidery. All of these things created space around me for God to speak to me and meet me right where I was at so that He could be the glue in my life during the time when I was nothing less than a sticky and unglued mess.
This year has caused me to grow in ways that I never expected. I learned how amazing God created my body to be. After reviewing a lot of the statistics about hip disarticulate amputees and their activity level I was able to get a lot of confidence in my willpower and progress over the past 25 years. For the first time I felt freedom to really ask “who do I want to be with and without a leg?” It was a little scary to face some of the answers and sift through reality vs dreams. I examined my heart to find who God created me to be as a disabled young woman and what ways I could bring Him glory right in the midst of my pain.
There is a tunnel I drive through every so often and as I start through the tunnel I always am excited for the adventure of traveling under a mountain. As I continue through and darkness surrounds me I usually feel a little anxiety creeping up as the pavement passes underneath the car yet I do not see an end to the journey because there is no light shining from the other end. It seems that the majority of my year was spent in that very part of the tunnel. I questioned if I had made the right choice changing doctors, if I found the right doctor and if he could truly help me at all. I became anxious about my physical and mental stamina and whether I could hold course at the rate I was traveling. I watched so many pass me in the other lane as I maintained a seemingly slow motion speed. But as the year came to a close I hit the point where I could see the faintest glow of light shining back at me in a ray of hope from the end of the tunnel. Closer and closer I am still inching towards that light and now feel the reassurance of this journey and the decisions I have made throughout.
Surprisingly the biggest hit to my year has been a tie between my body and relationships. The wear and tear on my body and mind has me in a place where I am looking forward to the beginning of the year being a time of rest and refreshment to regain my physical and mental strength. As I mentioned in the beginning I am exhausted. The other big hit that this journey has taken was on my relationships and friendships. There were several friendships that did not withstand the shaking of this journey and while I was sad to let them go I knew I didn’t have a choice. I knew I could either chase after friends at the expense of my health and sanity or continue on the path that God chose for me. While none ended on a bad note I know that God has called each of us to our own path and I most certainly look forward to the day when we can have unlimited time and energy to gather our friends around us in glory.
God has known from the very beginning what this journey would be for me. And so much has changed this year. It has been a year of shaking just as He promised. As the year comes to a close and things that have been shaken continue to fall and lay where they land I feel as if a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. Chains of bondage have fallen off and I am closer to the King of Kings than I have ever been. Instant Miracles happen all the time but this year has been one slow and long miracle of freedom. I have received the miracle of the freedom to walk, freedom to hopefully dance, and freedom in Christ.
In and through the struggles God also sent us just the right amount of blessing seasoned through all of this. As I inventoried our year of blessings I could see that while the struggles may be prominent in my mind the truth is that our Lord was faithful! My leg was paid for ($54,000), Rick was baptized this year, we both joined church, I turned 30 this year, I reconnected with several people from the past, and many more things! Every place that we hit a bump God was right there with “Road Work” signs smoothing them out.
On March 28, 2014 I awoke to a song in my head that has played over and over in my spirit this year. It carried me through walking with all the painful legs, it carried me through when I couldn’t even think for the frustration and it always pointed me to Jesus. As a friend in church pointed out, “It is so amazing how man’s absolute best [technology, science, effort in prosthetic devices] cannot even come close to what God could create in one word.” In closing this year I will share the simple song with you and look forward to the exciting and new writing topics that will come from my time of R&R this New Year!
Here is a link to an article recently published on UD-Daily about my experience this past week at UDEL working with inventor and entrepreneur Jay Martin (Martin Bionics) to be fitted for a new innovative type of prosthetic leg specifically geared for hip disarticulate patients. More updates and information to come on the project!
One of my first embroidery projects for a friend to use in her nursery
We all do it. We have some way of allowing ourselves to morph into zombies most evenings after long days of running, working, cooking, cleaning, and/or tending to the needs and demands of our families and friends. Sometimes I sit in front of Netflix for an hour or two. Other times I jump on Facebook to sift through the statuses and seemingly super exciting lives of others while reposting all the great and influential quotes I deem as noteworthy (regardless of redundancy) . Over the past year I have picked up another habit to keep my body producing melatonin far longer than necessary and causing me to rub my eyes and yawn in regret the next morning: Candy Crush.
You see my husband has been a third shift truck driver this past year and I have been a stay at home wife for nearly that long. While we do not have children yet I still manage to jam pack nearly every day with work and activity. I stay busy with gardening, yard work, flowers and landscaping, canning, sewing, cooking, research, and lately knitting hats for charity. Being an amputee causes the most basic task to take twice as much time so by the end of the day I find myself mentally and physically exhausted while yearning for the end-zone of monotony and boredom. I attribute this vulnerable state to being the reason why I so eagerly fell into the seducing arms of Candy Crush and a few other great online games.
At first the games seemed to be just what I was looking for: Sleek and attractive activity at the end of the day to fill time but still containing just the right dose of excitement and mindless stratagem to appease my restless soul.
As time went on I noticed I was spending more time zoning out in games or Facebook and less time I connecting with my husband during his break time via phone. I noticed that he would ask frequently, “Are you busy? Your mind seems somewhere else…” as I irritatingly insisted I was listening and only trying to beat a level in a game. Tired and cranky the next morning I would feel a little empty and even describe my time at the end of the day as “missing something”. I rationalized that everyone zones out and kills time before bed which clouded my thinking and prevented me from identifying the source of the hole in my life.
“She watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness.” Psalm 31:27
So I began to pray…I began to ask God why I felt empty at different times and why I felt so disconnected from reality. I asked God why when I read about others’ lives on Facebook I felt like I was lacking something in my own. I asked why I seemed to not want to play games yet was irrationally drawn to them even though I do not have an addictive personality. Most daringly I asked God to remove and redirect me away from anything that was causing me to not live in the moment and honor Him every minute of every day. I want to be a Proverbs 31 woman as I continue to grow and be the wife I was created to be.
(Please note that I am not in any way attempting to speak out against online games, Facebook, or television but am merely sharing my opinion and personal experience. I fully and readily confess there have been times when I was knitting and watching Netflix while my husband read Facebook updates to me from across the room! Just “keepin’ it real”!)
Hats made for Veterans
Within a week of praying about this I received a gift from a dear friend of mine. She had embroidered and made a pillow for me. As I looked over her intense labor consisting of thousands of stitches forming beautiful flowers and displaying gorgeous color pallets a spark was lit in my heart. It didn’t come down like a lightning bolt from heaven and at this point I didn’t even have a clue that it was God speaking to me. Yet there it was… a message impressed on my heart that I couldn’t shake. Within a few days I marched to the front door of my friend with a project and newly purchased thread in my hand to sit down for my first lesson in embroidering.
“She makes linen garments and sells them, and supplies the merchants with sashes.” Proverbs 31:24
Over the next week I started to see the creativity in me develop. As I sat I would think about how I was embracing an art form that hundreds of generations before me have used to gift and bless those around them. From evenings by medieval firelight and colonial candles all the way to the electric lamp in my living room women have been embroidering for centuries. I began to feel I was a part of something bigger than myself and making even the slightest difference. Seeing my progress each evening helped me to look forward to tomorrow and whatever adventure it may hold.
“And he arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace, be still. And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm.” Mark 4:39
Now more than ever I am convinced that the creative process allows for expression and processing within our minds. I believe processing allows for a space and creates capacity for us to review our day past and mentally prepare for our day to come. It also allows for healing to flow as we reconcile the things we have said and done that day and align ourselves with God’s will for our lives. Whether the project is embroidery, a puzzle, knitting, sewing, woodworking, or journaling I believe we are building the bridge between one day and the next as our mind and body works together to express itself through something tangible.
One of my more recent projects
I have not felt that empty feeling in over a month at this point. On the contrary I have felt more connected to my surroundings than ever before. I watch my progress in knitting or embroidering and I can see the story of each day being told in the colors and stitches I choose. The conversations that come from my work brings me closer to those around me and I am present rather than distractedly consumed when speaking to my husband at night. As a bonus needlework does not cause melatonin to release and keep me awake beyond that of a healthy schedule.
“Honor her for all that her hands have done, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.” Proverbs 31: 31
So while I surely do miss imagining myself with a hammer and fighting to achieve level 315 of Candy Crushing I can honestly say my quality of life has immensely improved through embroidering. Is there a creative process you can embrace today?
There is an update on my journey mentioned above published here.
“I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago.” Psalm 77:11
Nearly everyone I know has a way of connecting with the past. For some reason as humans we feel the need to reach across generations and stretch ourselves outside of time even if just for a moment to connect with our past stories of how we came to be. Some people research genealogy and get lost in family history while others keep to certain family traditions and pass them on to their children. For me, the kitchen has involuntarily become my very own time capsule.
“He remembers his covenant forever, the promise he made, for a thousand generations…” 1 Chronicles 16:15
The rack of cast iron frying pans hanging in my kitchen was my great grandmother Chamberlain’s. I have slowly collected these from discarding family members over the past ten years and I have had no greater delight than cooking something for my own family in a well-seasoned and easy-to-clean pan. My great grandmother Chamberlain was a strong woman, a single mother of seven children whom sometimes held three jobs to hold her family together along with her eldest son. As I cook and reflect on her life and her hardships I often wonder what she would think about as she stood over these very same pans after working three jobs and coming home to care for a family. I wonder sometimes if she cried out to God the way that I do after a long day and whether she also found joy in the mundane things of life along the way.
“Remember, Lord, your great mercy and love, for they are from of old.” Psalm 25:6
My cupboards also contain the pots and pans that were my great grandmother Burke’s given to her as a wedding gift circa 1920. These came to me from my Aunt at a time when I was about to purchase new pots and pans and fed up with the chemical warning labels. Never have I seen a set of pans in better condition and knowing these were used on our family farm to feed the mass of family members congregating truly speaks volumes of my great grandmother’s care and appreciation for her possessions. There have been many times when those pans were not easy to clean that I have stood over them scrubbing and wondering how these have lasted for nearly 100 years of use and whether they will retain their pristine condition after the likes of me!
“They remembered that God was their Rock, that God Most High was their Redeemer.” Psalm 78:35
Around the edges of my counter tops, lining my cupboards, and holding my sugar, tea, coffee, cookies, etc. is a huge set of old Village Brown Pfaltzgraff canisters passed on to me by my own mother. It was the set that she used after being married and as a toddler I clearly remember being reprimanded when reaching for the sugar canister from the edge of the counter. This set throws me back to the foundation of her and my father’s marriage, my pre-amputation days, while somehow bringing to me great comfort and peace as I use these same dishes and plates in my own home.
A Sampling of my first canning year proudly on display
All of these items transport me back in time but there is one thing that stands apart from all the rest: canning. About five years ago my husband wanted me to learn how to can peaches for him. He bought me the beginning water bath canning kit, mason jars, and a box of peaches while heading out to the garage to build shelves for the final product. I remember calling my grandmother Rodriguez and telling her that no matter how many times I read the recipe I might has well have been an alien reading Japanese for all the sense I could make of it. She laughed and reminded me that growing up during the depression with seven siblings taught her a lot and that she would be right over without the need for a recipe. She began to teach me how to sterilize jars, wipe lids, remove air bubbles, and can food in a way that would leave my shelves lined with the vibrant colors of summer to enjoy one jar at a time year round.
Five years later we continue to can everything we can garden and put our hands on. It surely is no easy task as any homesteader will confirm. With my disability it can be an even more challenging project as I hoist the big pots laden with empty jars and bushels of produce up the basement steps and into my tiny kitchen. I have since learned how to read canning recipes and we still spend our canning days sharing stories of my grandmother’s childhood, her marriage, and her life as we ladle the same foods she ladled with her mom into the hot, clear glass jars.
Spending this time together closes the gap of generations as we perform the same tasks done by countless women in our family history. We connect in a way that shows me how God has worked in my family and a way that makes the hours fly by without either of us noticing.
“But from everlasting to everlasting the Lord’s love is with those who fear him, and his righteousness with their children’s children—with those who keep his covenant and remember to obey his precepts.” Psalm 103:17-18
Remembering where we come from and embracing our history is something that is not foreign to God’s people. A simple bible search for the word “remember” renders 231 results! God wanted His people to remember the traditions and realize the richness of the grace and love he lavishly provided even while his people were still living under the Law of Moses. Just as in knowing the hard work of canning before electricity was invented makes me appreciate being a modern canner; so remembering how people operated in grace while under the Law of Moses allows me to appreciate the way Jesus set us free from these rules of religion.
“Do you have eyes but fail to see, and ears but fail to hear? And don’t you remember?” Mark 8:18
While canning there are a ton of rules to follow: Keep your jars hot; wipe the rims before placing on the lids; Don’t reuse your lids; Each food needs to be in the canner a certain amount of time; Listen for the “ping” of the seals; do not leave unsealed jars out because of the dangers of botulism. When I am canning alone I tend to worry about these things and anxiously keep “on my toes” making sure everything is being done just right so that my time and food are not wasted. But when my grandmother is with me I relax fully in the nature of our relationship trusting that she knows just what to do and when to do it and will alert me if I stray from the course. I do not worry about how the food will turn out tomorrow because we are talking and laughing and sharing history with one another. We are relishing relationship even as we make the relish!
I feel that our relationship with God is much the same way. It is so easy to get caught up in trying to remember the rules. We try to follow the Ten Commandments and do “good” to ensure our own salvation tomorrow. But with Jesus in our heart all of the rules pass away as we enjoy our relationship with Him. The Bible helps us to marinate in the history of our people and as we enjoy the stories and the presence of the relationship with Jesus all of the rules fade into oblivion. We become consumed by the relationship and remembering the greatness of the one we are in relationship with.
“I thank God, whom I serve, as my ancestors did, with a clear conscience, as night and day I constantly remember you in my prayers.” 2 Timothy 1:3
The frying pans and the pots from both of my great grandmother’s do little more for me than stir my imagination and appreciation for the things I have been told. But while canning side by side with my grandmother history comes to life because my grandmother is with me and present. Each time together ingrains an experience into my being not just my mind. When we approach the bible the same way and experience the relationship first we can be transformed by grace from the inside out in ways that we would never have imagined otherwise.
“But remember the Lord your God, for it is he who gives you the ability to produce wealth, and so confirms his covenant, which he swore to your ancestors, as it is today.” Deuteronomy 8:18
Peach Canning day right after buying our little home
This season of canning is about over and there is one day left (my favorite of all): Apples. Applesauce, Pie filling, and Apple Butter are on my list this year and with my grandmother being 78 years old I am going to allow the day with her to be forever imprinted into my memory. I know she will be gone one day and I will be standing in my kitchen either alone or with my own children. I’m so grateful that Jesus stretches beyond his lifetime so that his Holy Spirit is with me always just as real as if He were standing right next to me. Everything changes around us: electricity, recipes, even people come and go. But the one thing that doesn’t change is how we experience relationship because relationships are outside of time.
“In that day you will say: “Give thanks to the LORD, call on his name; make known among the nations what he has done, and proclaim that his name is exalted.” Isaiah 12:4
It brings our Father delight when we remember and think back on the great things he has done around us. Testimonies we share with one another are powerful as they remind us just how magnificent and great our God is. Remembering and connecting in relationship can bring change to our entire day/week/month. Each time we remember what God has done for us we are experiencing a treasured moment in relationship with him.
So whether we are canning tomatoes or pickling relish one thing is true: relationships reconnect us to remember. So…enjoy our modern day luxuries and plug in to remembering where you came from, where God is taking you, and who is important around you.
“Remember the former things, those of long ago; I am God, and there is no other; I am God, and there is none like me.” Isaiah 46:9
Hello dear friends and followers! It may seem as if I have simply dropped off the face of the earth (or internet) as of late. In reality my new leg has been quite a journey for me and one full of ups and downs!
Back in July I received my newest leg which costs over $53,000 causing my husband and I to no longer look at my wedding band as “bling”. Yes, in my opinion this leg should be sparkling from a mile away! But while it doesn’t blind any with its light it certainly does possess the latest technology for hip-disarticulate amputees including a Helix Hip Joint and Pile (pronounce Pill-A) microprocessor knee. The foot is altogether another beast that is apparently the most lightweight available. So if you haven’t seen me sprint by you yet at lightning speed all I can say is “Get ready.”
Re-adjusting to different materials and three new joints (hip, knee, ankle) has not been an easy process. The first week I could walk but not even sit down with my new toy because of the pain it caused sitting. The first time I put the leg on in the doctor’s office my prosthetist told me to “have a seat”. Not knowing how to operate the new joints I tried to explain that if I sat the leg wouldn’t work properly. He kept repeating and assuring me that I was thinking too much and that if I just sat my leg would follow. At this point I “just sat” and with him standing directly in front of me my new leg flew straight up missing his groin by a centimeter (and by the terrified look on his face that measurement is an exaggeration). From that point forward we both agreed to more adjustments and a little more space between us during practice times.
The second week I could do a little sitting but mostly only walk and stand. It was then that we headed to a picnic with some friends. As I walked around the party with my beautiful dress I headed over to the picture table and realized something had just fell out of the bottom of my dress. As I looked down to find a white pad about 2×5 on the ground, I quietly cursed whichever leg mechanic forgot to secure that in there because in front of me were the two repulsed faces of young men labeling me as gross! I mean let’s be real, what conclusion would you have come to? (Yes, even being a Christian I have my moments of foulness when I can thank God for His righteousness because I sure am not holy!) Of course all I could do was pick up my “pad”, smile, and dash for my husband’s side in embarrassment knowing that any explanation at that point would simply bury me but if they just saw me by my husband’s side they would somehow know I wasn’t totally repulsive to everyone!
Meanwhile the warranty is still covering the leg and I have made sure to test every last thing possible. When taking a walk downhill at my parents their new puppy barreled up behind me and knocked both feet out from under me causing me to land hard on my new $24,000 Pile knee. (Pile is pronounced Pill-A – though when I spell it out I can only see Pile as in a huge pile of money being spent on a very little piece of equipment!) Since then my doctor is wondering why I walk funny and have a hard time trusting my leg when going downhill and I’m not so sure yet how to explain that a trauma inducing two month old adorable black ball of fur is to blame. I’ve gardened, fell down, abandoned the leg, covered it in sand, gotten it wet, dug in the dirt, jumped off of the porch, and sat in the rain just to be sure that it truly can handle the wear and tear of the gorilla I imagine it advertises for.
The last few weeks have been a slow process of removing more and more of the “bucket” that attaches the leg to me in order to make the leg more lightweight, cooler, and comfortable. This has also been a trying process as every week that I bring the leg home I then have to figure out how to “do life” with this new piece of equipment all over again. As of today, I am far from finished. There is a motion analysis in my future, more tests, and more adjustments yet to come. And I wonder why I have been so tired lately at the end of each day?
One thing is for sure, technology doesn’t stop for adjustment periods. I just was informed last week that there is a new socket (the part that attaches to my body) available for hip disarticulates that looks like a bikini. It has been nicknamed the “bikini leg” since it attaches as such. The prospect of the weightless attachment is so exciting I eagerly asked for a bikini fitting from my doctor only to receive a raised eyebrow and an awkward moment of silence. Ah, the realities of leg life!
According to “Edge” magazine only 1-2% of amputees are hip disarticulate and of that only 25% choose to wear their prosthesis at all. So as I continue pioneering with my doctor (John Horne) what it looks like to make a hip-disarticulate leg comfortable and durable to wear as many hours as I choose and for all sorts of activities I expect to be tired and fatigued and frustrated as I have been this past month.
In my exhaustion I have been forced to isolate myself from people and activities that I have simply not had the capacity beyond my own struggles to partake in. It has been during the past lonely month that I have learned to pray scripture into my life when words have not been present and my soul groans under the stress and pressure I am facing. Psalm 71 has been one chapter that I have prayed over and again during this time.
“For you have been my hope, Sovereign LORD, my confidence since my youth. From birth I have relied on you; you brought me forth from my mother’s womb. I will ever praise you. I have become a sign to many; you are my strong refuge. My mouth is filled with your praise, declaring your splendor all day long. Do not cast me away when I am old; do not forsake me when my strength is gone.” Psalm 71:5-9
Sometimes when I walk my leg starts to feel very heavy and I feel like I am dragging it behind me. I notice when this happens I try to visualize myself walking free and fast. When visualizing still doesn’t give me the boost I need I have learned to get out my little hand pump and check the PSI (like a tire) that is in my knee because anything less than 85 PSI in my knee makes me feel like I am being sluggish. (Here’s another great visual of me traumatizing folks by flipping my foot around in public at a 180 Degree angle and pumping air into it!)
Visualizing the answer to my prayers for peace, patience, and wisdom from heaven is biblical. Unlike in my physical situation where using my own strength to visualize a leg that isn’t there doesn’t work; when we visualize and believe to receive help from the Holy Spirit our Father promises to grant that to us.
“Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.” Mark 11:24
Because of the price tag on this leg I try not to “cast it” to Jesus, But I do cast my cares to Him and celebrate each day and each humorous moment because who knows what tomorrow will bring? Each day has had enough for me to face.
Blessings to each of you and thank you for being followers of this blog and of my journey!
Crutchprints in the Sand 