I was enjoying a lovely time out at a local establishment to listen to one of the bands my husband plays bass in; The Usual Suspects. I really do enjoy going to hear them play, not as much as when we play/sing in the same band together, but still a lot of fun. Music is still one of my all time favorite escapes.

I think that may be why it was such a jolt to the night when the normal “where are you from” became more in depth than usual. It turns out that one of the visitor’s for another band member is a doctor from New York and he flat out couldn’t believe me. So I had to go into verification mode at a time that I would have rather been enjoying the music, singing along and joking around with the other people. Don’t get me wrong; I think that it is neat that a young doctor is skeptical, but the timing of this particular encounter was unfortunate.

Because I know how very rare this disorder is, I feel an added responsibility to communicate the information about Foreign Accent Syndrome. However, because I am not a specialist, a doctor or someone who works in the medical field, my words are often held up to greater scrutiny and skepticism by those who do have such professions.

As a result, at a time when I would be relaxing and just enjoying, I now had to go into “work” mode. It is real work to try to describe something that has happened which is so rare. I’d offer proof, he’d counter with another question, and on it went. After several minutes of this, I told him that he should go ahead and look it up on the internet, but not to be surprised when he doesn’t find much information. I am one of 39 medically documented cases in the world . . . ever.

I was relieved to see that he had an internet capable phone so he could continue his query there. Which he did.  So I was able to enjoy the last two songs of the first set.  I was further relieved when my husband joined us at the table and further questions about its authenticity were confirmed for the young doctor. I have nothing against the young man, it simply was a timing issue and the fact that it made me “go there” at a time when I just wanted down time.

It is sad to believe that I can never really escape from this new voice’s impact on my everyday life. It is sadder still that some professional people will question my integrity when faced with something that they don’t know. I think that’s really what bothered me. I am telling the truth here. How can you stand there and call me a liar?  Yes, it IS interesting? But what can we DO about it? What can we learn? How about being helpful instead of being skeptical?

Although I wrote those thoughts from a carnal viewpoint, I do see something to be learned here. First, I can be sensitive to the fact that there are some people who cannot help but be skeptical about things they have no former experience with. Second, I am more sensitive to their insensitivity. I need to realize that it is not his intention to treat me as if I am a liar, although it feels that way to me. This is more mental “work” for me on top of the corrections to my speech as I communicate using this foreign voice.

So the take-away from this little life experience is this: although I thought he was thinking less of my integrity, he really simply couldn’t believe the fascinating medical manifestations. It was not that he wasn’t believing me. I took it too personally. It was simply “unbelievable”!

I thank God that he has given me the wisdom to keep such upsets inside myself so that I didn’t get snippy or impolite. Also, the humor mode that allowed me to take an uncomfortable topic and make light of it at my own expense allows me to lighten up. That gets me through the moment. Then, later,  I can really analyze what transpired so I can prepare for the next time such a thing happens.

Live and learn.

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I have been taking part in an inter-city mission that I had been called two “accidentally” for over two years. “Ask Anything Saturdays” is conducted at the Unleavened Bread Cafe in the heart of Indianapolis. This mission-field is one in which some of us Christians implant ourselves into an otherwise unfamiliar culture to be used to show the love of Christ in practical ways.

The overall objective is to be available to introduce anyone who comes in off the street to the basics of using computers. So much of our society today involves the World Wide Web for developing job skills, applying for jobs, conducting research and getting to the information in a fraction of the time it used to take. Even more exciting, is the opportunity to make new friendships and network across many physical boundaries.

The internet has allowed us to cross racial, economical, cultural and educational boundaries. There are tutorials that help the newbies start out on this new adventure called the Internet. There are still some accessibility issues, especially for the aged and the economically strained. However, thanks to Public Libraries, schools, and now other social gathering computer cafe’s, this boundary too, is being torn down.

Since I consider myself a “Walmart Missionary” (my term for witness and connect WHEREVER you happen to be at the time, to whomever happens to be around, in whatever way the Lord leads) when I was first asked to make myself available for a few hours on Saturday mornings, I accepted the commission.

This is an commitment that I do not take lightly. I often have NO idea of who will be there or what possible way(s) I may help them.

This last Saturday, July 5th, there were BIG plans at the UBCafe. We had been urging some cafe regulars to come to a special Media Training event. I was encouraged by a co-servant to spearhead the workshop. It would take a bit of extra preparation on my part, but I was very happy to accept the challenge. We even invited others from outside the usual crowd to come join us.

Thursday night before the Saturday event, the Great Oppressor started to work on me. I had a terrible fever, too nauseous to eat, extremely weak and a headache that made looking at my computer monitor for prepwork extremely difficult. All day Friday the illness continued. Then the battlefield of the mind was being bombarded with “oh man, wonder if this fever doesn’t go away? Suppose I am not prepared enough?”

God, comforted me with a remembrance of the story of the little boy with the tidbits of fishes and loaves that fed thousands. “Just do what you can and I will take care of the rest. Don’t listen to the Supreme Liar who is trying to convince you that you can’t do it. Remember, in weakness, God’s strength is magnified.”

This is the same exact lesson that God has been showing me to encourage not only myself, but other Christian workers who are getting bombarded lately.

Saturday morning arrived. My body was still sick, but I was trusting that my fever was NOT contagious and prepared for the workshop. I had gathered all of my things and was heading out to our only car only to discover that we were totally out of gas!

So, my husband quickly took the van down the street to put in some gas, while I phoned to my friends to let them know that I would be tardy, but I AM coming. I felt so apologetic, knowing that they were waiting for me. Again the battlefield of the mind was aglow with new “worthlessness” bombs and a barrage of “you’re letting everyone down” grenades.

About that time, Steve returned to tell me that our debit card was declined and we have no credit card. OH NO!! It turned out we’d been double charged and it hadn’t been credited back because of the holiday weekend banking hours.

Earlier in the week we literally emptied our penny bank for gas so that I could make it to another Christian meeting I felt lead to attend. A Christian brother handed me a folded bill and simply said “here, go get some gas”. I was blessed to receive the bill. I would go straight to put $5 of gas into the car. When I went to pay, I discovered that the bill was really a $10. So I pocketed the remaining $5 and over the course of the next day bought a gallon of milk (on sale!) and still had $3 left.

That $3 put enough gas into the van for me to get into the workshop. I had earned a fifty dollar check dog sitting earlier, that Steve would go cash at customer’s bank which would close at noon.

Now, I was almost an hour late !!! The battlefield was having a turn in the fighting. I was more convinced than ever that Satan really did NOT want me to go this morning. And I KNOW from experience that when things get this bad, there is going to be a tremendous Godthing happen! I even verbalized that fact to my husband who was driving me in. And then again, I spoke out loud as I rushed right in to the community room. “Hold on and pay attention, God is gonna do something!”

I went from dread to anticipation. Leaning not on my own understanding. Not getting hung up with the “oh, there are not as many people here as I thought there’d be, maybe they left because I was so late.” I was excited to see what was going to happen. Confident in the fact that whoever was here, whatever we shared, whatever we did… all of it was in God’s hands, for His glory and for the blessing of us all.

We DID have a very productive workshop. It was difficult to balance the information between the totally inexperienced and the already understanding individuals so as not to cause sensory overload on the novices nor bore the experienced. God IS good.

Again, I was comforted as I AGAIN encouraged us all with the sufficiency of our Great God. That whatever little thing we have to bring God WILL use. We do NOT have to do it all. And what we may think is NOT enough, with God’s power becomes MORE than enough.

As I was outside teaching basic video filming with some of the trainees, two of my brothers in Christ were talking about me. When I came back, I was offered a JOB! Those who know me and my physical limitations and lack of income, know what a tremendous blessing this was. My new employer has offered to pay me for doing communications work for the Ministry that he spearheads. Communications is my passion and now I’m actually going to get a little money for that. He was reminding me that he couldn’t pay me much (apologizing about not being able to pay MUCH), but that it should help offset gas money. “It’s not very much”??? What is the lesson we are learning boys and girls?

God is sufficient… just do what I can…. He’ll handle the rest.
It’s called walking by faith, NOT by sight.

Then, another miracle happened. My husband called my cell phone. Was I ready to be picked up? Oh yes, it was now after 2pm and I hadn’t eaten yet, could he please bring me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with him?

To which he replied, “it just so happens that we got $100 refund in the mail just now”. That was enough to buy some much needed groceries! Immediately after ending the call, I began to tear up. “God, you’ve done it AGAIN!”

I was so filled with praise for what He had done for us, that I gathered about 6 brothers and sisters who were about to leave the Cafe and said… “please just give me 5 seconds to tell you something and pray with me.”

We gathered in a circle holding hands and I reported all that God had been doing just that very day. Then I offered up praise that just spewed out of me, with my dear friends joining in the Thanksgiving to our Saviour. Tears of joy and undeserved blessing streamed down my face. I thanked my friends and thought they’d leave. But once again God was not DONE blessing yet. A brother who I do not really know well at all, asked to pray. He affirmed that something that I had said testified to something he was learning through God!! Blessing upon Blessings… now this was a worship service. 7 people and gathered angels praising our Awesome God!

So, though this blog post is one of my longest yet. I think of it as a pile of stones of remembrance; set to remind us of how God cares for even the little things, even me.

It is fitting that this Independence Day weekend was one in which I was set free in a new way. That by simply pressing on against the seemingly narrow passage; I not only was escorted through the narrow chasm, but my SAVIOR used the Holy Scripture to BLAST a passageway, the Holy Spirit to energize me forward and the Awesome Grace of God to show me that on the other side of the passageway was beautiful meadow full of all the blessings that are yet to come!!

Thanks for taking this trip with me : )
Because I believe like it says in the book of Corinthians that when we share such things together, our sorrows are halved and our joys doubled!!

PS I’ve also embedded a great song on this page called “Just How Big Small Can Be” by 1000 Generations. This is my theme song for this portion of the journey of my life.

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This was the easiest surgery I’ve ever had on my leg. Dr. Karl Raynor went in and removed 2″ from my left distal fibula (smaller lower leg bone) and the internal bone stimulator that was placed in there when my ankle was totally fused in May of 2006.

You can see the wires sticking out of where the devise had been. See that sharp bone sticking out of the back of the leg? That is the place to which my fibula was cut this time (where some tendon attach). It was about 2″ longer but had grown toward the tibia to try to make a pseudo-joint which was causing unbearable bone pain for me.

The wires from the bone stim were wrapped around the ankle area along with some bone removed from my fibula to help attain a solid fusion. Though the bone stim is supposed to stimulate bone growth in the area where the wires are located, apparently some EMFs encouraged some bone growth at the end of my fibula that we didn’t want.

You can see that I have a metal rod and a couple of long screws that bind things together. It looks rather robotic on xray, but kind of nasty in real life. I have a crookedy lower left leg with no outer ankle protrusion at all. It’s flat and majorly scarred.

Still . . . I have my own leg and foot. I even have most of my sensory nerve functions so that I feel thing with that foot which is amazing given all that it’s been through.

I joke with people who can’t believe how many surgeries I’ve survived by saying, ” When God does finally take me home, it will probably be from an infection from a paper cut or something small like that.”

Seriously, the prayers of my friends have helped sustain me through everything. It is especially important since I am allergic to all the main pain medications.

I went into surgery at about 11 a.m.. My nurse’s name was also Ellen (43 y.o.) and she also likes to long distance run. Therefore she understood when I said I take the pain and push it aside like when you are waiting for your “second wind”. Still the different people including the anesthesiologist found it hard to believe that I was not taking anything for the intense pain.

I came out of surgery in record time and was very talkative even before I could open my eyes. I heard Dr. Summers (the anesthesiologist) check on me before he left. I asked him to please give us some “Summer” weather. It was a bad joke, but he laughed anyway.

At 1 p.m. I was home in my own bed! The nerve block that they gave me in surgery worked so well that I felt no bone pain, just sharp cut of the incision. The On-Q Pain med ball was in place to drip Marcaine right into the surgical site, and was a godsend for the three days it worked!

With my leg elevated in the wheelchair, I am finally able to get back to my computer to catch up (if that’s EVEN possible) with all the things I need to attend to. [Yes, I ended that sentence with a preposition because that's how I would speak naturally].

Currently, I am using lydocaine pain patches next to the incision for 12 hours a day to help with the pain. I am to be non-weightbearing until at least Monday when I get the stitches out.

The most frustrating thing is that I can’t do housework that I want, cook supper, or be much help around here. AND I am lonely, since I am unable to go out just yet. Thank God for phone calls and book reading, cause there’s hardly anything worth watching on TV.

Well, I’m gonna call it quits for this post. I’ll just be “kickin’ back” and recovering for a bit.

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To be in the shadows is to have all the joy sucked out of every aspect of my life. It is the fear of the unknown. The realization that I can’t stay in this place. It is drudgery, bleakness and hopelessness. Or is it???

You see… I believe that the shadow can be seen in another way. As I acknowledge the shadow for that which it truly is, I needn’t fear. For a shadow is simply a result of a light shining beyond an obstacle. It is not solid and cannot hurt me. It has no course of its own. No ill intent against me personally. It simply exists to testify that there is a great light nearby. It is the light that has the power; not the shadow.

Walking down the pathway of my life and journey through pain, I experience the shadows of depression stretching toward me from time to time. However, if I remember the insight above I can overcome the despair of the shadows and realize the hope that is there.

For, if the shadow is reaching toward me, and I face it, I know that I am heading in the Light direction. The darker that the shadow appears, the more intense is the light that forms it.
My friend, I pray that you remember these words and draw upon the encouragement that is intended to help you as we travel this path together. Experience the joy as we draw closer to the light!

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