Rolling through life...

Greetings, Loved Ones.

So. I have been discharged from the hospital and living back at base for almost 2 weeks now. During this time, I have made several important discoveries.

Discovery 1: When people see you in a wheelchair with a broken leg, they automatically assume you are completely incapable of any human function. This frequently translates to people assuming you need help with ordinary, day-to-day tasks. For instance: moving. Let me make this clear, lest there be any confusion: my upper body is completely competent to push the weight of myself whilst in a wheelchair. Yet, many a person will run up to me, out of meetings, away from meals, out of rooms, away from work, just to come up behind me and INSIST, sometimes against my request, to push my wheelchair 20 meters. This could certainly be the Lord removing my pride further, but it doesn't stop me from asking: in what world is it socially appropriate to take control of a disabled person's life (even if under the claim of "courtesy") by rolling them around in a wheelchair they cannot get out of even when they tell you your help is not needed? In addition, people will often run up behind me as I'm rolling around and grab my wheels or put the breaks on. This was only slightly funny the first time. By now, I have had to resort to spinning my chair on a dime to stop them from being able to get to my wheels at all- sometimes resorting to rolling over their toes on accident because they were too close to me. At any rate, it's humbling for me to no longer be able to operate on the level I am used to, and even more humbling to be at the mercy of anyone, including small children, who feel and act on the impulse to grab my wheelchair and push me places I don't want to go.

Discovery 2: Office work, from 8-5 daily, is hard. I now work as a receptionist in the offices here at YWAM Townsville to substitute my going to PNG. To be able to graduate, I had to make up the outreach work I am involuntarily forgoing by staying in Australia, and so I have been made a sort of student-staffer. The days are long and often hot, and I am often tired and lonely.

Discovery 3: The Lord will speak to you when you give him time. I'm sure you can tell by this point in my article that my demeanor has taken somewhat of a toll. For the past two weeks I have been very busy, from 7 am until often times 10 pm or later, 6 days a week, working. On Sunday, I am often too tired to even gather two thoughts to rub together. I will admit that there have been days when I have prioritized like an idiot and pushed spending time with my God to the back burner. What kind of a fool does that? Here I am, trying to carry the weight of new work, loneliness, physical pain, etc., knowing full well that I CANNOT do it alone, and still deciding that a nap is more important than conversing with the Lord and hearing what He has to say to me. Although to be sure, naps are sometimes the only choice I can make! But truly - I have found during this time a deeper need for time with the Lord than I have known up until now, which is wonderful and also difficult.

For those of you who may not see much point in talking to the Lord unless you have a question or a request, let me just share with you something - He is not just an omniscient God of answers, but also a God of encouragement. It is incredible to me how light my burdens feel after crying out to the Lord for help. I'll be honest, there have been many a time these last days when I have felt as though I'm being strangled slowly. The amount of small details in my life that piled up and needed attention astounded me. Whether it be the hospital needing information I didn't have, the healthcare store giving me a wheelchair with a broken wheel, the incision on my inner ankle breaking open and bleeding through the cast (yes, actually, that does hurt as much as you're thinking it does), not being able to eat because of the painkillers I'm on, both of my pets dying while I'm out of the country...You get the idea. And yet, right when I feel as though I'm ready to wheel myself away into the great unknown, the Lord speaks to me and says "My dear little one, I have so much in store for you; this is only the dry season, refreshing rain will come soon." Then, like a vapor in the wind, all my worries disappear. I realize that people are kinder to me in the streets because they have sympathy on a crippled girl. I realize that I'm in Australia, living a story most people wouldn't believe. I realize that I'll be going home soon to a family who loves me. I realize that I have friends here who mean more to me than I could ever have thought possible. I realize that I have supporters all over the world - people who are diligently praying for me - sometimes hourly. I realize no matter what happens, broken bones or no, I have the Good Shepherd watching over me--what can be unbearable when that is the case? I'm living a wonderful life. I am blessed with friends and family who love me. I get mail all the time with flowers and teddy bears and chocolate and kind words. How could I ever overlook these blessings under the notion that my life is just too hard? Ridiculous.

I find that my life often becomes how I look at it. When I am skeptical, both of myself and of those around me, misery and self pity kick in with shocking ferocity. When I choose to see the blessings the Lord has granted me today, when I decide not to heap those gifts on the alter of "the future", looking so far ahead that I neglect to see what has been given me now, hope and excitement lift me off the ground. This does not mean life isn't hard sometimes- but, as I have said before, my situation is my situation no matter if I am joyful about it or not.

So, then, why not be joyful? There truly are so many reasons to praise Him after all.

Random Fact of the Post:

I tried seafood for the first time ever in my life last week! My friend and I went out to a fish and chips place on the beach and I tried two whole bites of crumbed mackerel. Not bad, actually- I would try it again. Being a vego, though, it'll probably be a while... But my first experience was overall pretty darned delightful. Thank you again for your prayers. My parents often tell me of each one of you stopping them and asking them for updates because you pray for me so often. I can't tell you how much this means to me and how much it has helped me. Click Here to Read More..

How Am I Doing, You Ask?

Greetings, Loved Ones.

This post might be hard to read for some of you- those who are squeamish, and those who are particularly in touch with their empathetic side.

I have found that there is a certain degree to which you can ignore life. I don't know where to start this article to be honest- I suppose I will start with telling you that, right now, life is hard. Let me just squelch the skepticism right now- I understand that I am in a first world hospital with good care and enough food and loving people sending me flowers and visiting me daily. I understand that my life, by all worldly standards, is pretty darn good. I have a wonderful family and a bright future in front of me. This being established- right now, in this moment, life is hard for me.

As most of you already know, my surgery has been routinely pushed back every day since last Thursday. There have been three full days where I have been made to fast from all food and water all through until the evening before they have finally come in and told me that my surgery is, again, postponed. It is Monday night here, and tomorrow is Tuesday, my 11th day in the hospital, in this bed, in this corner of a room with three other sick women in it. I am CLINGING to the Lord here. Each day I read the Bible and each day I pray and each day I spend time with my Savior. I contact my parents frequently to let them know how I am doing, and each day I tell them that "It's hard, but I have the joy of the Lord, and He is keeping me strong". Now, He IS keeping me strong, but today His method of doing so changed from what I was familiar with-- the usual "fill my cup" strength was gone and replaced by something else. When it says in Ps. 34 that "the Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit"- that's become me. The strength I have now is no longer the "divinely granted but also some of my own sanity and resilience" strength. The strength I have now is purely and only my Shepherd's, Who is close to me, surrounding me, and guarding me from what is hurting me. I am thoroughly crushed in spirit. I have been sprinting to keep up with what's been happening to me in this place but today I reached an end to my psychological endurance.

This morning, a doctor came in who was fresh out of med school and perhaps over confident in her abilities of cannulating (sticking the IV thing into your veins). I asked her if she was skilled, as I knew that, after fasting for almost three days, my veins would be quite dry. She waved me and my question aside. She proceeded to puncture my skin three times in two different arms before hitting the vein- when she hit it, it turned out that she had nothing on the back of the cannula. As you can imagine, blood came pouring from a very thick vein out the needle, pooled on my arm for about two seconds, and continued to pour out onto the bed, floor, and my belongings nearby. This was at 10:00 am; and was only the start to my day. I was told around 12:00 pm; by an extremely excited nurse that I was finally going to theater (surgical theater)- overcome with joy and excitement that my time here was finally coming to an end, I called my parents and told them. Then, as I was being prepped for surgery two minutes later, my nurse received a call that I would have to wait two hours for the "equipment to be made ready." So, I waited. Three hours later, I called a nurse in to see what was going on. She said she'd find out for me. I asked this of four more nurses before one finally came back at 4:45ish and told me that I was no longer going to theater today and that I could begin again to eat and drink. Until 10:00 pm, of course, when they would begin fasting me again for tomorrow.

Let me take a moment to say: disappointment has a certain potency to it that invokes both anger and self pity- a dangerous combination to nurture. I contacted my parents and friends and told them the news of the postponement. I attempted to stay focused on the fact that the Lord does have a plan and my day and week and month had gone like this for a reason. Basically, I stuffed my emotions. Stuffed them all. I refused to let myself feel self pity or sadness at all because in my mind, that's not the Lords will, and thus, why should I feel it?

During a phone call with my mother the other night, she told me that hurt needs to be felt. She pointed out that "sadness endures for the night, but joy comes in the morning" and thus, to feel absolute joy, you often must also feel genuine sorrow at some point before hand. I understood that logic with my mind, but my heart rejected it on the terms of "Well, I don't need that. I don't need any of that. I have Jesus. So there. I'm set. I'm perfect."

I just took a shower in the little bathroom attached to my hospital room here. Because of my leg, I had to be seated the whole time. Because I was seated, my leg was not elevated- this means it was throbbing and in serious pain. Because of my massacred cannula from this morning which was still inserted in my inner elbow, my left arm was unable to bend at all. After a short while, I realised I was not doing well in my heart. I was sitting there, trying to wash my hair and face and hold the shower head with my only working arm, feeling like my foot was about to pop like a balloon from all the blood that had flown into it, and suddenly I realized I was about to burst into tears. The realization shocked me, as outward expressions of emotion aren't my favorite- what do tears do anyway? I stuffed it down again and as I was trying to unlock the wheel-locks on my shower chair, I foolishly hit my head on the shelf on the wall in front of me. I looked at the shelf and thought of my mom saying "Sweety, you're going to have to hurt, and you're going to have to let yourself feel it." I didn't burst into tears- but suddenly I realized that I wasn't joyful anymore about being stuck in this hospital. I was in a good deal of physical pain and that pain was only amplified by the constant, cyclical routine of the doctors not communicating and postponing my procedure. I've been woken up every two to three hours for blood pressure and temperature checks every night for ten nights. I have lost count of the amount of blood thinning and pain killing injections I have been given. Every time I shower I have to wrap a trash bag around my cast and tape it to my leg, and every time I have to rip the tape off of my leg, and after 11 nights of doing that, it hurts. My upper legs, inner arms, and lower stomach are a mangled mess of blood spots and bruises from all that's been done to them. I freeze nightly because they don't have warm blankets here and they turn the aircon up way too strong, plus, on the doctors orders, I have to keep ice on my foot every night. I can't eat hardly ever, either because food is being withheld from me or the painkillers make me nauseous. I can feel the Lord with me, His heart aching for/with mine, but I still somehow feel alone most of the time.

Life is hard right now. I admit to my weakness. I admit that I am not doing as well as I was early on in my stay here. I admit that I am not sure how much more of this I can handle. I am screaming to the Lord to help me, and He is, but not in the way of deliverance. Deliverance is not the only way the Lord comes to aid. Sometimes, I find, He comes and sits with you and He says "Well, you're going to have to endure this through till the end. But I'll be with you. So take heart. Joy comes in the morning."

I love the Lord and I am willing to endure anything for the sake of Him and His plan for me. I used to say I would endure it with a joyful heart, but right now, my hurt needs to be felt by me. All this being said, I still ask that you would not pray that it would get easier- I do trust the Lord to take me through this on His own no matter how hard it gets. Like I said in my last post- pray that I get the message the Lord is sending me!

So, this is how I am doing, truly. I think of 2nd Corinthians (12, is it?) where it say that "I will boast all the more gladly of my weakness for when I am weak, then I am strong." I think of Matthew 5 when it says "Blessed are those who mourn for they shall be comforted." Sorrow is a part of the Gospel, friends. Hurt must to be felt. The Lord is our Comforter- how can He comfort if His children neglect to feel hurt under the claim that they are always happy with the joy of the Lord? Thank you for your prayers, dear ones. They are much needed. Bless you all!

Random fact of the post:

My friend visited me on Friday and was able to wheel me outside for half an hour or so- we were on a balcony and the sun couldn't get to me but I could feel the breeze and I could hear the birds and in that moment, I was so blessed. Those are the moments I cling to here. It's not all bad. I've had some great memories here already. Even my vein spilling blood to make puddles on the floor will be a good story one day.

Be blessed, Anna Click Here to Read More..

...The Fall.

Greetings, Loved Ones.

You will note that my last blog post was titled "Pride Comes 'Fore a Fall"- oh, if I had only known how prophetic that article was!

I am writing this in bed #5 in the Women's Ward of Townsville Hospital. I will now give you a bit of background as to how I got here:
Last Saturday, on the second of May, I was climbing a tree with a wonderful friend of mine when I realized the fastest way to get down from the tree would be to jump off the limb I was sitting on. I knew that it was a rather high jump, but, seeing as I stand a solid 6 feet high, I decided that the 11 foot drop would really only be about 5 feet since my own height canceled out half of the distance. Believe it or not I actually knew my logic was faulty but I consciously decided to ignore that fact in light of the hope that luck would be on my side. Plus, why should I doubt my own physical abilities - even if I did just write a blog post about pride and falls and the dangers of depending on myself and such. What's the point of living life if you don't take a risk now and then anyway?

So, I jumped, and as I was falling, I actually had time to process my "free falling state" and complete the thought of: "yikes, this was a lot higher than I originally thought, and it's going to hurt when I hit the ground." A split second later (or, as the Kiwis say, "nek minnit") I fulfilled that foresight, and I felt my right leg...bend...in a way I had never felt before. Immediately rolling onto my back in the dirt, I looked at my friend still in the tree and said through bursts of laughter "that was such a bad idea!" We looked at each other, both of us laughing, when suddenly I lifted up my leg and saw that my foot hung to the side in a limp, baby-doll-like fashion. On the outside of my right shin, there was a sharp edge sticking outwards with the skin stretched tightly over the new found ridge. I said "I think this is broken" and proceeded to hop on my left foot (which I also bruised very badly) to the nearest park bench where we looked it over and ran some water over it to clean the dirt away.

Heading back to my room at the YWAM base (bringing the phrase "walk of shame" a whole new meaning- or, actually, hop of shame?) I got 4 staff-member-opinions on whether or not they thought it was broken. All four said "Can you move it?" And when I could - they all said "Nah, you'd be in way more pain if it were broken. I think it's just a bad sprain- wait a few days until the swelling goes down and then if you want to get it checked at the docs, someone will drive you." (At this point my entire lower leg had blown up to probably three times its normal size and you could no longer see the sharp point sticking out from underneath my skin - but the sight of your own bones pointing out of you like that is not a thought you dismiss too easily.) Still - we spent a hysterical afternoon trying to navigate me around my room on the third floor with only one foot and a longboard to sit on. At some point I called my loving mother, who promptly and forcefully told me to "Go to the hospital NOW and call me when you get there."  I got over my obstinance and made a quick call to a friend- next minute I was in a van with a YWAM staff member to drive and my dear friend Kayla (she came for emotional support) for what we all thought would be a quick trip to the local hospital.

When we got there, Kayla and I had a fantastic adventure trying to find the ER- me in a wheelchair holding crutches and her running behind me, pushing me down the sidewalks trying to find the right building. Once we reached our destination, we checked me in and Kayla wheeled me upstairs for X-Rays whilst our driver went to get a bite to eat, expecting us to be ready to go by the time he finished.

So, after a bit we got the X-rays, and as soon as the doctor got back into my room after looking at the results, this was the dialogue:

ME: "Give it to me straight, is it broken?"
DOCTOR: "Short answer, yes. Long answer... How long will you be in Australia for?"
(At this, Kayla, who was sitting next to me, groaned in sympathy)
ME: "I am scheduled to leave for PNG in 6 days."
DOCTOR: "6 days? Okay...No. You've broken your ankle in three places- you're going to need surgery. You'll be in a full cast for 6 weeks and then you'll move into a moon boot for another 6 and that'll be when you can first start to re acclimate your right leg to pressure."

At this point in the convo, my friend had gone silent, and I was laying on the hospital bench with my hand over my mouth in a state of shock and resigned helplessness. Understanding that there was nothing I could do about foregoing PNG, I said thank you to the doctor, turned to my friend, and said "Wow. Well, that's alright. It is well with my soul. The Lord has a plan. The Lord has a plan." Later in the evening, as the doctor was wrenching, or, as they say, "manipulating" my shattered foot into the correct position for a "back slide plaster" to be wrapped around it, I was smiling at him and making jokes about everything that had happened so far in the day. He noted this by saying "Boy, for the amount of pain I know you must be in right now, you're certainly the cheeriest patient I've ever seen." I looked at him with a grin, managed to get out "It's not me, it's the Lord- it's only the Lord", and then, for the first time that day, I burst into tears. My friend rushed to me and we both started to laugh through our tears. The rest of the night was painful in more ways than one. The tears stopped pretty quick, but were promptly replaced with my teeth chattering with physical pain like I had never experienced before in my life.

I have been through quite the ordeal. From not feeling fresh air for a week to getting told each morning that surgery will be "probably tomorrow", I have only been kept sane by the Lord and those He has placed around me who love and support me. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart for the flowers, gifts, phone calls and visits- they have been such an unspeakable blessing. It has been especially hard to watch my team leave for PNG as I stay behind in Townsville, but the Lord does indeed have a plan, and it is one to prosper me, not to harm me.

Something really interesting to share with you - during my stay here I have been reading the book "Hinds Feet on High Places" out loud to my best friend Katrina. During my first night at the hospital, Katrina came to visit me and she hopped into my hospital bed with me and we continued our tradition and picked up where we had left off the night before. The chapter we turned to had us bawling (it hasn't stopped going through my mind since). Here's an excerpt - I think you will agree it is from the Lord. Just to give you some background, the Good Shepherd has just told Much Afraid that she will be taking a detour from the path she originally thought He had her on...

"She was still crouching at His feet, sobbing as though her heart would break, but now she looked up through her tears, caught His hand in hers, and said, trembling, "I do love you, you know that I love you. Oh, forgive me, for I cannot help my tears. I will go down with You into the wilderness, right away from the promise, if you really wish it. Even if You cannot tell me why it has to be, I will go with You, for You know I do love You, and You have the right to choose for me anything that You please."

I couldn't have said it better. I cannot help my tears, but the Lord is my One True Love, above travel, above friendship, above physical well being. I will follow Him into the wilderness if He calls me, and it's seeming as though He has.

If you would, pray for my family. I am here in the hospital, and I am in pain, but there is nothing here that will crush me. The Lord is close to the broken-hearted and He SAVES those who are crushed in spirit, hey? I will make it through. Pray for my family, in particular my parents, as they are stuck on the other side of the world as their only daughter goes into her first surgery, under full anesthesia, to get 6-odd bolts and screws and a plate or two put into her leg. They are of course trusting the Lord, but I would rather be in my position than theirs any day. (Love you guys!)

Thank you all for your support. The Lord bless and keep you!

Random Fact of the Post:

They wake me up every other hour each night here at the hospital. Whether it be to take my blood pressure, hook up an IV to my arm, give me painkillers, take my temperature, etc., I never get more than two hours of consecutive sleep. I'm learning patience here- patience, as well as being content in helplessness. I couldn't run away even were I to try. I have to scooter myself around on a chair with wanky wheels just to get myself to the bathroom or to the shower. It's hysterically humbling. Thank you Jesus. Don't pray that it'd be easy for me- pray that I'd learn my lesson this time and not have to go through it again!

Blessings from a happily heartbroken and cheerfully ankle-broken daughter of a kind Lord,

Anna Click Here to Read More..

Pride Comes 'fore a Fall?

Greetings, Loved Ones!

Today, I have less of an adventure story for you. Today my post will be more of a personal resolution--a journey, if you will-- that I believe some of you may even be able to to relate to.

I find this week that my pride is at every turn. Now, I truly have been blessed with a rich education and been given a mind that naturally churns with the flow of logic...one that constantly searches for flaws and doesn't forget them once they are found. Keep that in mind as I relate to you some of the events of my week: First-- Our lecturer this week has made a small point of "teaching us how to speak publicly"- I admit that this grates on my self esteem. I have been trained in rhetoric and my pride tells me I have nothing to learn in this area- I know how to write and deliver a solid speech.

Second-- I have a friend here who often explains the love of the Lord and the life of the Christian in such simplistic, faith based, illogical terminology that my reasoning side is driven half mad. To make matters worse, every time I pointed out a logical flaw in an explanation he was able to rebuke it with some mini-monologue typically along the lines of "I used to work purely off of logic but it was getting in the way of my walk with Christ so I dumped it- it's better this way." This is not to say I believe I need to leave all reason in the dust, but you can imagine how that feels- to be told in a nice way to be quiet because you're not getting the point.

Recognizing that my pride had been confronted numerous times this week, I decided to spend a significant amount of time meditating on it with Christ. What He showed me were the parts of myself that I would boast in. The parts of who I am, whether it be my logic oriented mind, my confidence in front of crowds, etc., that I take pride in. When asked, I would attribute those qualities to Christ. I would say I was "blessed" with a sure persona, or the Lord "gave me the gift" of an ability to make friends easily. Did I truly, in my heart of hearts, view them as gifts from my Lord? Or did I see those talents as personal conquests, things I had worked on for years, things to be bragged about, things that I had that others didn't? If I'm being honest with you all, I would have to go with the latter option. Sure the Lord planned for me to be this way, but in my opinion, I thought that I had made myself who I was. All me. All on my own. The Lord (and my mom- thanks mom, you were right, as per usual) had been telling me for years that my pride was going to need to be torn down. The time for this came three months ago. The Lord has done wonders in my life already whilst being here, but I believe it's finally time to burn off this loose end that I have been secretly clinging to. I have laid down the security I find in who I am and have chosen to pick up the only lasting Security. I believe that the Lord will perfect me in His way as I let Him. I refuse to let my pride any longer bar my growing ever closer to my Father.

Well, this is my post for today- thank you for prayers and your support. Thank you also for your prayers and support for my family! I love you all dearly and thank God for you daily. Peace be with you!

Random fact of the post:

Last weekend, I went with my dear friend Katrina to the island nearby to spend the night at a hostel. The island is named "Magnetic Island" and it is absolutely breathtaking- I, coming from a heritage of pure northern blood. Click Here to Read More..