My story

Just in case you missed the newsflash or happen to be one of those lucky folks who have been gazing at blue skies, watching the waves gently lap the sandy shore, all while you sip a frozen margarita – it snowed.  It snowed a lot.  And apparently it’s not done.  Goody. 

Early fall found us making the move from country mice to city mice in the thriving metropolis of Waynesboro, Pa and it’s been an interesting move trying to remember that we HAVE neighbors and I probably really do need to get dressed in the morning to put the puppies out.  This winter though I am discovering the wonder of young, enterprising neighborhood men who want to shovel FOR me.  Uh, yeah! 

That being said, I do like to shovel from time to time and though I had them do the front steps and walk, I myself did a path to the back of the house and dug out the car - all by myself.  Why, you ask, would you enjoy shoveling??  

I am 40 years old and have only known health for probably the last 8 or so years of my life.  For those who don’t know I was born with asthma and spent most of my childhood, and indeed much of my life, quite sedentary and in and out of the hospital.   I was always anxious that over doing anything physical would equate to an ER trip and ever hyper aware of anything around me that could throw me in to an attack. I have been in the position at least 2 times in my life that I thought I was going to die before someone came home to find me because I didn’t have enough breath to stand up and make it to a phone; let alone talk to someone if I did get them… and that doesn’t include the time I had a seizure and passed out from lack of oxygen in my system (In front of my mother and husband – banner day).  I have spent hours trying to get showered and ready for the day because I had to do it in shifts to be able to take in enough breath to take the next step. 

I should have been dead so many times over.   These experiences don’t even include a myriad of car accidents that have been stunningly serious.  I’ll be honest; I've asked the question time and time again “How many times can you cheat death?”  I've come to understand that I have a purpose.  God has a plan for me.  I may not always know what it is or where I’m headed, but I know I have to keep moving.  Even in the deepest throws of depression (and I've struggled with those valleys as well) there is always a pilot light deep in my soul that keeps my joy alive. 

I guess I’m sharing this with you because I want you to know that we all struggle.  We all have disappointments.  We all think that we will never be able (physically, mentally, financially, whatever… ) to do that which we KNOW we must do.  I always wanted to sing -always.  Did I really think that would happen, realistically?  Yeah, I did.  I didn't know how, I didn't know when, but I knew this was who I am.  What I am made to do.   God has healed me.  God has protected me.  God has always made a way.  Do I still have disappointments and struggles?  I sure do.  We all do.  Those are different stories.  ;)

Tell me your story.  What are you made to do?  What brings you joy even in the darkness of your journey?