Category Archives: Uncategorized

This video was recorded in mid-March 2015. It was a senior project of a communication student, Emily Paul, at Cedarville University. Since this recording, the soul and spirit continue to remain strong, but the body has failed rapidly. Since May 5^th, she has not been able to stand or walk. Her vision is fading day by day. She is now receiving fulltime care at a nursing home.  Prayers are appreciated with this changing condition and new transition.

One can say, my life last Monday was “normal” as far as typical routine goes. In my mind, I knew there were changes happening. What I didn’t know was that at my doctor appointment my world would be turned totally upside down. This appointment was just supposed to be a typical check up. I assumed this appointment would be short and I would be home by evening. Home in time to get a goodnight sleep to start my typical routines the next day. I have problems standing and I hit my right leg that was already healing for some time from another injury. For my safety, I was admitted to the hospital for the night (which is what I thought). The next morning, a doctor came in and my first question was, “What were they looking at for healing” so I know when I can go home. He said they were still working on a plan or thinking it over as a team. Later that afternoon, the social worker came in. She communicated by writing on a dry-erase board that I can hold close to my diminishing eye. I was shocked to learn that for my safety and because of my health changes I would not be going home. Instead, I would be transferred to a nursing home. Suddenly, my world came crashing down and the thoughts of not going home were overwhelming. In a moment’s time, I had about a billion fears, tears and questions all at the same time.

That night I really did not sleep much. I started to think of more questions and details of how these changes would work. It did not help that after Mom and Dad left I tried looking at my prayer journal and praying about different things. I started crying again. I finally shut the book and called the nurse to help me get ready for bed. Over the next few days, there were a lot of discussions about the details. A lot of my questions at the beginning did not have answers, as this was all new for my family as well. I guess the hardest part in all of this is that I will be moving into a place that I considered is only for old people. As we started talking about other things, my fears about the nursing home started to ease. I found out the nursing home is close to my parents’ home and it was recommended to them as a good place.

The thing is . . . now that I am forced to sit in a wheelchair or a bed for my safety, I get to spend a lot of time thinking. The other night I could see how I was almost prepared for this, but did not realize until now. I had recorded three blog posts earlier that I was waiting for someone to type. They would not make sense now, but in some way what I had recorded and experienced, I can see now that God was helping to prepare me for this sudden change. I think my problem right now is that I am still too independent. I am not at peace with letting go of my sight or my walking. I told my mom about three weeks ago that I was on a different path and I do not understand why. I told my mom too that I am tired of being brave, but I am going to try. These changes are NO FUN, but sometimes when I think I have gone through just about everything, something else happens.

Yesterday, I was given a gift of a painting canvas and finger paint. We went to the activity room and had a lot fun. I forgot about everything. I did some painting and got my hands dirty. It was mom’s idea to use my hands to paint my flowers. When I was all finished, I needed a title for my painting. I could not think of anything at the moment. Later that night, after my parents left, I got a shower. I decided to go ahead and get a goodnight’s sleep. I really wanted to have a title for the painting. Because mom and I potted some flowers a week ago, I wanted to title the painting “Working In the Garden”. Different songs started coming to my mind. One song was a Steven Curtis Chapman’s song, “Fingerprints of God”. In the second verse he writes about how there has never been or never will be another me! This song tells how God’s perfect plan from the first beat of my heart is uniquely me; “a living, breathing, priceless work of art”. Sometimes when changes big or small begin, I forget this. I know that God goes before me and has answered some of my prayers, though not as I was wanting them to be answered. The biggest lesson I am learning now is ‘trust’ as I am in full dependency on everyone for everything. The nurse even wrote on the dry-erase board “You are safe” and I have to trust them. But even more, what I need is to let go of my dreams and myself and trust God’s faithfulness; knowing God has bigger dreams and no matter what, I am safe in His arms.

Fingerprints Of God

Lyrics by Seven Curtis Chapman
I can see the tears filling your eyes
And I know where they’re coming from
They’re coming from a heart that’s broken in two
By what you don’t see
The person in the mirror
Doesn’t look like the magazine
Oh but when I look at you it’s clear to me that

I can see the fingerprints of God
When I look at you
I can see the fingerprints of God
And I know it’s true
You’re a masterpiece
That all creation quietly applauds
And you’re covered with the fingerprints of God

Never has there been and never again
Will there be another you
Fashioned by God’s hand
And perfectly planned
To be just who you are
And what he’s been creating
Since the first beat of your heart
Is a living breathing priceless work of art and

Just look at you
You’re a wonder in the making
Oh and God’s not through no
In fact he’s just getting started and

I can see the fingerprints of God
When I look at you
I can see the fingerprints of God
And I know it’s true
You’re a masterpiece
That all creation quietly applauds
And you’re covered with the fingerprints of God

How is it that light is a cause of blindness? It is something I cannot fathom, yet that is my problem. This is not a stare-at-the-sun problem…it is any light. From sunny or overcast days, lamps and overhead lights, to the background color brightness on my computer and Nook.

I probably drive my family nuts, because one minute it is dark for me, especially when   natural light still streams in the windows; eventually, lights are turned on where needed, depending on what I am doing and where I sit, you’ll hear, “Hold on…eye is adjusting!” The contrast of dark and light is effected by anything: how Fast I turn my head; the color of the room or what people are wearing; light reflecting off my silverware or bathroom counter; and even how much I strain my eye reading what I type or Nook or finger spelling.

I do not feel that my eye is dimming in darkness like my right eye…rather it is fading through the blind spots. The more I strain my eye, the, more I think light sensitivity increases.

“I feel like a star,” I tell Mom as she helps me with emails…except that night, my thoughts of stars were backwards. Instead of getting brighter before they die out, they already have died. We see that radiance thousands of light years away. To

realize I am but a speck in the heavens, yet God calls me by name, only puts me more in awe of

His Majesty. My eyes may never see stars again, but when I focus my eyes on Jesus, I see the Light of His Glory and Grace.

This is a memory in which I do not have the whole picture…only the images of what impacted my heart remain.

I must have been alone in our dorm room that early evening of my sophomore year at CCU. I was watching a program on the TV, which actually turned out to be a movie based on true events (unknown to me at the time.) I remember a woman encouraging a boy to persevere through life’s challenges and his learning disability.   Most importantly to keep his faith in God. Next he was in college and becomes a doctor…a pediatric Nuero Surgeon. It was the story of Dr. Ben Carson, M.D.; the movie titled Gifted Hands.

Of course, I still didn’t  know  this as I am finishing watching, but remember crying during the scene where he raises his hands in prayer before entering the operating room to perform his first surgery on Siamese twins.

After the movie ended, I went for a walk. I don’t think I intended to go far—maybe just clear my mind, because it was so full of emotion about Dr. Carson’s story. Leaving the dorm, I took a right that kept me headed toward the soccer field. When I neared the end of the field, I remember stopping dead in my tracks. I can’t tell you what I was thinking or discussing with God before that because I don’t remember, but this I do: standing right there, I told God that if I ever needed a wheelchair, I would be okay with it.

I don’t understand why we discussed this at that time…it had nothing to do with the movie. Greater still, that I would tell Him during the prime of physical best, or why it reappeared to memory seven years later…as I now enter the stage of physical worst.

I never told anyone about that   conversation until a few weeks ago when Mom came in to say goodnight. In tears, I said that I think He wants to know if I still mean it…asking, “Do you still trust me?”

I am not in a wheelchair yet, but have sat in some for full days a few times due to doctor appointments or shopping trips. I never feel so much freedom than when I get  home to my walker. And if I trust the human hands to guide me, how much more to trust my all to the Hands that gave me life—and it is only by His Grace that I still walk, because every part of my being says the opposite. I’m overwhelmed with thankfulness and in this new season of growth, I know that God is teaching me and preparing me to fully trust Him for the day when I sit full time in a wheelchair. And when that happens, I want to once again say with my whole heart that I am okay with it.

“Therefore the Lord waits to be gracious to you, and therefore He exalts Himself to show mercy to you. For the Lord is a God of justice; blessed are all those who wait for Him. For a people shall dwell in Zion, in Jerusalem; you shall weep no more. He will surely be gracious to you at the sound of your cry. As soon as He hears it, He answers you. And thought the Lord give you the bread of adversity and the water of affliction, yet your Teacher will not hide Himself anymore, but your eyes shall see your Teacher. And your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, “This is the way, walk in it.”

Isaiah 30:18-21

During my Denver days, I did a lot of walking. I started just as a college freshman going around campus to classes, chapel, the cafeteria or my favorite: basketball games on the weekends. Our campus was not that large—probably only a mere block of Lakewood, which is a suburb of Denver. Besides weekly off-campus ministry, I didn’t venture around much that first year…but it wasn’t like I was unfamiliar with Denver and surrounding areas. All the adventures Mom and I had during my radiation treatments in high school were refreshed very quickly.

The change began that summer before returning to CCU as a sophomore. I met God. GFGGG For the first time since diagnosis, I embraced the unanswered unknowns—and opening my heart was the first of small steps to bigger  change, and it changed everything.

I returned to campus feeling anew; not sure when it began, but I started walking the neighborhood behind campus. A few blocks up, past an elementary school, there was a grassy hill, surrounded by trees to set it apart from the houses. There was a play area for kids and a swing-set. I walked there quite often, just to swing.

I continued these walking neighborhood ventures the rest of my time that I lived on campus…even when I did move off and got an apartment with friends, I still went for lots of walks.

Looking back, it probably was not the smartest thing to wander around alone, even if I was careful. But I never felt alone because my times were spent talking with God. I have to say that I did most of the talking. But when I finally stopped and listened, I saw Him in nature. And even though He didn’t really speak to me at that time about things that I brought up in discussion, I saw now seven years later that I was seeing some more discussions reappear.

Even though today my walking is a bit different, when I feel someone’s hand help guide me or point me in a direction I need to go, I think back on these walks when I could feel God with me, even if it was just the breeze in my hair, the beauty of the spring flowers or crunching through the leaves in the fall. I cherish those walking memories and even though now I sit, I am still trying to see God from a different perspective and in our new discussions I have learned that He may not answer right away, I know He will answer and I am ready to listen.

Jars of Clay ~ Love Song for a Savior

Can you see me?

I can see you, but it is not how you see me. I see your figure and body movements…your face, now a clear-ish fuzzy blind spot.  Like anything else, I wish to view with some clarity, I unfocus my eye or look beyond—in hopes to catch a glimpse of  time past the void; yet even then, my unfocused-refocusedness only sees a faded view…the details driven from memory.

How does one live in a changing world of detail by mere use of memory?  To realize your own capacity for the details in life…it becomes overwhelming, and most—if not all—I cannot keep account of my own details.

Details—even in the fading, I see my need to surrender what was my obsession—being detail oriented. Being organized is not a problem, but when it becomes a worry, it is time to let go. And when I refocus on talking to God, I know that He sees me, but not in the way that I see Him.  He saw me before I was born and created me with such detail.  I stand in awe.  I only see Him through my spiritual eyes, because I know how He has worked in my life in the past years.  But in my memory, the details return of all the prayers he has answered in the past.  Of all the detail that came into place at the perfect time.  This is what helps when I am in my times of overwhelmingness, because I know my prayers are being heard and the prayers of many others, and all the little details will again be answered in His perfect timing.

“Perfect Time”

(Chorus)

Believe me, I’m not afraid to
Teach me to learn Your ways
Carry me under Your wings
In Your perfect time
Only You, can dreams come true
Only You can make me shine
Only You, can days be right
In Your perfect time

Lyrics by Moya Brennan

“Have you ever considered eating a challenge?” I ask looking up from my plate, totally interrupting Mom and Dad’s conversation. We were having bean burritos. Like any other dinner, I was making a mess—but this was close to catastrophy. “Maybe next time I should just eat beans with  a spoon,” I add as I wipe my face and hands with yet another napkin. Looking helplessly back down at my food, I sigh and end, “I can’t figure out which is the open or closed tortilla to pick up.” Dad reaches over and hands me the correct end…I get about three more bites in before it falls apart. Another napkin and scrub from a wet dishcloth, I was finished.

A little later that night, I was sitting at tbe dining room table, with a few large piles of books in front of me…the last of books to send, as the remaining few on my bookshelf are special or for my family to enjoy. I was having problems grouping some of the titles, so I leaned back in my chair to think.

Out of no-where, Audio Adrenaline’s song, “Hands and Feet,” comes to memory. Forgetting the books, momentarily, I pull my hands up—palms facing me—and stare at the feeble, curled fingers.

It wasn’t until the next evening that I contemplated more on the lyrics…why this song?

I still am not certain, but many thoughts came to mind—especially as Easter approaches. At the Last Supper, Jesus became like that of a servant and washed His disciples’ feet.

I see the hands and feet of Jesus each day by those around me, who sacrifice their time and energy to meet my needs…but I will never be able to serve again as they do.

Hands and Feet–I am still seeking mine in this new state of dependency…for when I sing the lyrics, “I will go where you send me,” I want to mean it with my whole heart. So I look to Jesus—whose hands performed miracles and feet walked on water—were nailed to the cross bearing the weight of the world and bringing salvation. And when my body can no longer go on its own, He will continue to carry me to the end.

In the older days of Sesame Street, there is a song scene in the library. We find Oscar the Grouch sitting in his trash can and inquiring the where-bouts of the Trash section…as if crumpled old newspapers and torn magazines were a highlighted and popular genre to read. Of course, the direction to his question does not come first thing—not without an attempt to tell what a library has otherwise.

Two muppets are there as well and start the song, bobbing up and down opposite to each other, but in step with the beat; they sing the chorus:

“There’s books for him and books for her and books for you and me.  books for him and books for her and books for you and me. You’ll find your books for everyone at your library.”

The main cast come in with costumes to go along with the adventures you can have when reading, and as Oscar becomes more unimpressed, the singers bust out this fancy, “FA LA LA LA LA LA,” finale. Hard as they tried, Oscar interrupts the jolly tune, and in classic grouchiness, again wants only the trash section. The two muppets shake their heads, like sad defeat, and sing to turn around…the direction of the trash selection. Oscar exclaims, “WOW! I’m in heaven.” And tells the others to be quiet—after all, they are in the library.

We were not at the library, but my favorite bookstore—Barnes and Nobles—and after a loop around the place, Mom was directing me to the cozy chairs up front. You can’t leave without browsing the bargain books, so as Mom set to do so, I sat and reflected on books and reading…it was then that the library song came to mind. I wanted to laugh, but just smiled casually instead; regardless, I needed the humor because reading has changed.

Reading, for me, encompasses more than books—it is my means of communication within the hearing world, I consider lip-reading like a second language and used to be fluent in both it and ASL, at one point…but have always read lips until now.

March 5^th, I saw my neuro ophthalmologist. Because I opt out of the eye surgery, it was my last time unless an emergency problem would arise. Upon leaving, a few things were evident even since seeing him in January—I am blind in the right eye and the little sliver of peripheral vision only catches a tiny beam of light. My left eye could read the big E on the wall; when I read words…as to not fully strain  my lazy eye because it is  trying to focus around a clear-ish blind spot in the middle of my eye…I use huge white lettering on a dark background; my social media has dwindled.

But that is not as important compared to person to person commu nication..,especially with  my family. It takes time, lots of patience (mostly on their part), lots of finger spelling and basic signs or writing on a black dry erase board with neon  markers. It is different—often frustrating, but communicating (tweaked from normal) is still possible.

“I don’t think God has a problem communicating with me,” I told Calli as we talked using the type in Word and I read method. Indeed, talking to God has been my only constant. He speaks to me with verses and songs, with memories  of His Goodness.

If you have never experienced or heard of “pain spasms” prior to this entry, then I will briefly explain. It is much like a Charlie Horse cramp that one can unexpectedly experience…

usually in the calf or thigh muscles of the legs. The sudden surge of pain and tense muscles start to diminish after a good stretch, although it may take some walking for the leg to feel fully normal again.

Pain spasms, on the other hand, are associated with the nerves. I am not sure if this is the official name for it, but doctors always know what I am talking about and the phrase speaks for itself. These spasms jolt through the nerve as spontaneous as a Charlie Horse cramp; but unlike a leg cramp, this pain cannot be lessened by mere stretches and it is not confined to just the legs either.

I first started experiencing pain spasms my sophomore year in high school. Because the brain, shoulders and neck tumors were affecting me most at the time, it was my arms that felt it first…specifically my elbows. Then the spasms appeared in my feet. Then it stopped—and when it restarted (in memory anyway), I was a fresh college graduate who had just returned from a once-in-a-lifetime tour of Greece. The spasms that had started in my face from the tumor on the 5^th nerve stopped when I restarted chemo, and when I had to stop chemo after the blood clot, I started pain medication that helps stabilize this to some small extent. I really do fine, as these are sporadic and I cannot control when they hit—some are small, while others can literally jerk my body. All I know is that my pain spasms have restarted pretty intense over the past month or so…around the same time I started having a phenomenal “pain spasm” experience in my eyes.

Now that I just freaked you out, please read this as slow as I am finger-poke typing It: I am NOT experiencing pain in my eyes—thus far, I only have been getting more headaches from straining my left lazy eye and the different contrasts of light my eye adjusts to all day. I simply refer the phrase to what happens, due to the sudden surprise and spontaneity.

This only happens when I get in bed and close my eyes to sleep. In the blackness, out of no-where, flashes of the most illuminating white appears…pure white, and vanishes as quickly as it appears. Like a spasm. Solid white or brightness of sunshine bothers my eyes, but this…this is beautiful.

I am also going color blind. However, in these eye “spasms,” I also see wriggles of florescent colors: green, blue, yellow and orange. It is such an experience—my descriptions do not do justice. My painting does not either. And I suppose that is why I look forward to these—because it reminds me that one day, my eyes will not see spasms of light in darkness. They will be forever in the Light.

“Show Me Your Glory” by THIRD DAY

I caught a glimpse of Your splendor

In the corner of my eye

You’ve probably read the stories before…

Someone’s life is changed forever, turned upside down, and in it all—they continued to breathe, for at times that seemed the only possible. Yet living within the new walls of change, they strain in tears to carry on…a new path to be taken, a new mindset (perspective of priorities), renewing a sense of purpose while clinging to hope.

This, my friends, has been my past two weeks…but my story is still somewhere in the mist of all the change; it is still tossed by waves of frustration, loneliness and darkness. I am waiting for Jesus to speak, “Peace be still.” and rebuke the wind and waves…but He asks of me, where is my faith? I must answer that question and cling to hope—yes, God is bigger than my current woes and yes, it is okay to struggle through them.

The last week of February, one day before my friend was to visit for the weekend, I fell in the night as I entered the bathroom…not to say that the fall initially changed everything (because signs of left leg not holding weight had appeared here and there previous), but at that night, I entered full dependency.

Of course, this did not change me and Calli’s plans. We were college roommates and enjoyed looking at pictures from those days, a chocolate chip pancake brunch, reading, showing her around the area and a snow day, in which we painted. Crying when she was leaving that Monday, I told her, “God knew I needed you here.” We all did and as she left, my sister Megan arrives, then all the rest of my family over the weekend…and I held my sweet little nephew, until my arms fell off.

Yet my body continues to spiral, down. It has changed everything—it is not just my eyes or hands or intestines or legs and feet, but it all and that is where I feel overwhelmed. It has changed the way we communicate, responsibilities, daily life. I can no longer walk by myself, use the bathroom and do other hygiene by myself, let alone all from before anyway; most of all, vision. I am now as dependent on my magnified glass as I am my walker and others. That is the physical, but what I am challenged more so, is the mental. Realizing what I want to do and finish might already be complete in God’s eyes, thus He leads a new path.

I don’t understand yet what my calling is as I journey ahead—it is something that I am seeking, learning in new perspective…in the pain and sadness and confusion.

The hope in the storm: God answers. “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you; plans to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11