When Muscles Won’t Listen: spasticity

Over the past few weeks, I’ve been dealing with some leg discomfort that I couldn’t quite pinpoint. It wasn’t always there, but when it was, I could trace the pain in a line from my hip to my ankle. It mainly happened when I stood or walked, though not consistently. It wasn’t unbearable—more like an annoying tightness tor dull pain.

Since I wasn’t sure what was causing it, I went to see my chiropractor. After an adjustment, I felt some relief, but the issue wasn’t completely gone. I gave it a little more time, but when I noticed the discomfort still lingering, I went back to him for a follow-up.

The Chiropractic Adjustment That Helped Me Understand More

During this visit, he performed a few different adjustments, but one, in particular, stood out to me. As I lay flat on my back, he took my left leg and gave a gentle but firm jerk straight out. Then he did the same with my right leg. Immediately, I felt a release in my hip area, and that’s when I remembered something—I had been experiencing a strange sensation right where my hip bone meets my pelvis.

When I mentioned this to him, he explained that I have something called muscle spasticity. I had heard the term before, but I didn’t fully understand what it meant in my case until he broke it down.

What Is Muscle Spasticity?

Muscle spasticity is when a muscle remains tight or contracted involuntarily, often as a protective mechanism. The body does this to create stability, especially when it senses that something about your movement pattern isn’t quite right.

In my case, because my walking is not completely normal and I have been relearning how to walk, my body has developed some compensations. When we walk, our hips naturally rotate to keep us balanced and moving forward efficiently. But if something interferes with that movement—like past injuries or improper muscle activation—the body may respond by tightening muscles to prevent instability. That tightness, in turn, can lead to pain, discomfort, and limited mobility.

The Bible reminds us in Psalm 18:32: "It is God that girdeth me with strength, and maketh my way perfect." Even when my movements aren’t perfect, He is strengthening me daily.

A massage gun

The Impact on My Walking & Leg Pain

I realized that my hip and leg muscles have been overworking to compensate for the challenges I face with walking. My gait mechanics (how I walk) aren’t the same as they used to be, so my muscles have had to adjust in ways they weren’t originally designed to. Over time, this has created tension and spasticity, which contributed to the pain I was feeling from my hip down to my ankle.

While this realization was frustrating at first, it also gave me hope. If my muscles had adapted to move differently, that meant they could also adapt again—to move more efficiently, more smoothly. It wouldn’t happen overnight, but with practice and consistency, I could make progress. As Romans 5:3-4 teaches us: "We glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience; and patience, experience; and experience, hope."

How I’m Addressing It – Massage Gun Therapy

After identifying the issue, my chiropractor recommended that I get a massage gun to help manage the muscle tightness. If you’re not familiar with them, a massage gun works by using percussion therapy, which means it delivers rapid pulses to the muscles to increase circulation, break up tightness, and promote relaxation.

I’ve already ordered one, and I’m looking forward to seeing how it helps with my hip, thigh, and calf muscles. My goal is to reduce the spasticity, improve my mobility, and make walking more comfortable. (Easier said than done)! Each step I take, each exercise I do, is an opportunity to refine and improve. I remind myself of Isaiah 40:31: "But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint."

I never realized how much hip rotation and muscle balance affect the way we move until I started experiencing these challenges firsthand. It’s been a learning process, but I’m thankful for the knowledge I’m gaining along the way.

Muscle Spasticity: Progressing Toward Graceful Movement

Muscle spasticity doesn’t mean I move like a rigid, jerky robot or a character from a horror film. It’s a challenge, yes, but one I’ve been tackling head-on. My goal has always been to make my movements as smooth and natural as possible, and I’ve seen remarkable progress.

They say practice makes perfect, and I believe that applies here more than ever. The best way to improve my movement is to keep moving—to push myself, refine each step, and identify areas that still need work. If I notice something that feels off or awkward, I don’t just accept it. Instead, I focus on that specific motion, adjusting and strengthening the muscles involved until I see improvement.

Spasticity can be unpredictable, but consistency is key. Every stretch, every exercise, every deliberate step forward is part of the bigger picture. Some days, the progress is small—so subtle that only I can tell the difference. Other days, I hit a breakthrough, a moment where everything aligns, and I move with the ease and control I’ve been working toward. Those moments remind me why I keep going. 2 Timothy 1:7 reminds me: "For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind."

Through all of this, my faith has been my foundation. In moments of frustration, I remind myself of Philippians 4:13: "I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me." When progress feels slow, I lean on Psalm 46:1: "God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble."

I share this information because I just became aware of it last week. Even though I have been living my recovery journey for all these years, I still don’t know everything there is to know about myself. I might have a good idea, or I might not be fully aware of all the facts. To me, that is a lesson I can equate to my spirituality.

I have been a Christian for a long time and have learned a lot, but I do not know everything. It is important for me to realize that, so that I may continue to grow when new truths are revealed on my path. When we come to know Christ, we don’t suddenly experience all His wonders at once. Our growth in grace begins when we start on that journey of learning about God, the more we walk with Him, the more we learn of Him and the more we become like Him. (hopefully) Proverbs 4:18 tells us: "But the path of the just is as the shining light, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day."

Final Thoughts

The journey isn’t about eliminating spasticity altogether—that may not be realistic—but rather learning how to work with it, to adapt and refine until my movements become as fluid and effortless as possible. It’s a process, but one that’s well worth the effort.

If you’ve ever dealt with tightness, discomfort, or spasticity in your legs or hips, a chiropractic adjustment or massage therapy might help. It’s always worth exploring different options and learning more about how our bodies work.

I’ll update you all on how the massage gun works for me in the future! Have you ever experienced muscle spasticity or tightness from movement compensation? I’d love to hear your thoughts!

Be encouraged. 🧡

 

Trusting the Process: my job search

For the past ten years, my home and my heart have been devoted to homeschooling. It was more than just a job; it was a calling, a purpose, and a structured part of my life. (previous post From Student to Teacher) But as that chapter has now closed, I find myself standing at the beginning of something entirely new—seeking a part-time job outside the house for the first time in 16 years.

And let me tell you, this is not easy.

Facing the Unknown

It’s one thing to decide to pursue a job. It’s another thing to step into that pursuit, facing the reality of interviews, unfamiliar environments, and the logistics of navigating new spaces. The thought of walking into a facility for the first time, not knowing the layout, wondering how I’ll maneuver confidently—it’s intimidating.

For me, that initial walk-up feels like a vulnerable moment. I like to be strong, prepared, and independent. But this process exposes uncertainty, and that’s hard to accept. There’s a part of me that sees it as a weakness, and I wrestle with that.

Yet, I am reminded of 2 Corinthians 12:9:"And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me."

God is not hindered by my weaknesses. He is magnified in them. This season of transition is not about proving my strength—it’s about leaning on His.

Looking Back to Move Forward

But then I remind myself—I have felt this way before.

There was a time when the thought of driving felt impossible. When discussions about getting my license arose, my mind immediately went to the logistics: "How am I going to physically walk back to the trunk to retrieve my walker?"

That question alone felt like an immovable obstacle. And yet… I do it now. It’s part of my routine, something I once thought was nearly unattainable.

This reminds me of Philippians 4:13: "I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me."

It wasn’t instant. It wasn’t easy. But with each step, I adapted, learned, and persevered. And if God brought me through that, then I trust He will bring me through this too.

Navigating the Job Search

To help me navigate this unfamiliar process, I’ve been working with a job coach. This has been a blessing because, while I am eager to start working, I also have to consider certain income and salary caps. These factors add another layer of complexity to my search.

It’s not just about finding any job—it’s about finding the right fit. I have valuable skills and experience to offer, and I don’t want to limit myself by rushing into something that isn’t aligned with my strengths or needs. But I also don’t want to settle out of fear or impatience.

This brings to mind Proverbs 3:5-6: "Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths."

God has already prepared the path ahead. My job is to trust Him and take one step at a time.

Balancing Patience and Action

I find myself in a delicate balance—taking action while waiting on God’s direction. It’s easy to get discouraged when things don’t move as quickly as I’d like. Some days, I feel confident. Other days, I wonder if I’ll ever find the right opportunity.

But I remind myself of Isaiah 40:31: "But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint."

Waiting on the Lord is not passive—it’s active trust. I should be an expert by now! It’s believing that even when I can’t see the whole picture, He is working on my behalf.

Strength is Not the Absence of Struggle

I used to think that strength meant never feeling unsure, afraid, or overwhelmed. But I’m learning that true strength is pressing forward despite those feelings. It’s admitting when something is hard but refusing to let it stop me.

Psalm 46:1 reminds me: "God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble."

So, while stepping into the workforce after so many years is scary, I know that I am not alone. God has been faithful through every season of my life, and He will be faithful in this one too.

One Step at a Time

This job search—this new, uncertain chapter—is another mountain to climb. And while I may not have all the answers, I do know this: I’ve overcome before, and I will again.

So if you’re facing something new—something that feels overwhelming—remember this: growth happens in the moments when we feel the most uncertain. Strength isn’t just about having it all figured out; it’s about showing up anyway.

This journey is intimidating, but it’s mine to take. And step by step, I’ll find my way.

As Joshua 1:9 says: “Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest."

I don’t know exactly where this road leads, but I do know Who is guiding my steps.

And that is enough.

The Mountain Path: A Journey, Not Just a Climb

I know you’ve heard me talk about mountains to climb—about facing obstacles, pushing through challenges, and experiencing victory. But when you really think about it, climbing a mountain is not just about going straight up.

If you’ve ever hiked a real mountain, you’ll notice that the trail is rarely a direct path. If it were, the ascent would be so steep that you’d have to crawl or struggle to gain footing. Instead, most trails zigzag back and forth, weaving through switchbacks. At times, it may feel like you’re taking the long way around, looping and retracing steps rather than making direct progress. But those winding paths exist for a reason—they make the climb manageable.

That’s how life’s challenges often unfold. We want to tackle them head-on, to move in a straight line from struggle to success. But God, in His wisdom, often leads us through a different route—one that may seem longer or even repetitive, but ultimately, it is the path that will get us to the top.

This reminds me of Isaiah 55:8-9: "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts."

I may not always understand why the path looks the way it does, but I can trust that God’s plan is higher than mine. He sees the whole mountain when I only see the next step.

So, as I navigate this season of change—searching for a new job, stepping into unfamiliar territory—I remind myself that the journey doesn’t have to be rushed or taken in a single stride. If God is leading me on a winding path, it’s because He knows it’s the best way for me to reach the top.

And when I get there, I’ll look back and see that every turn, every step, and every challenge had a purpose.

Psalm 37:23 says: "The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord: and he delighteth in his way."

So, I will keep walking, trusting that each step—no matter how indirect it seems—is leading me exactly where I am meant to be.

Tell me, what are you searching for?

Be encouraged. 🧡

From Ventilator to Victory

One of the injuries I suffered during the 2009 motorcycle wreck included having a collapsed lung. Due to my inability to take deep breaths, I was given a tracheostomy, commonly referred to as a trach, which meant that I was hooked to a ventilator to aid in my breathing. Because of the ventilator, I temporarily lost the ability to speak orally, as the trach bypassed my vocal cords.

The Ventilator

Understanding the Trach and Vent

A tracheostomy (trach) is a surgically created opening in the neck that leads directly to the windpipe (trachea). A tube is placed in this opening to help with breathing when a person cannot do so effectively on their own. In my case, the trach allowed me to receive oxygen and ventilation support when my body wasn’t able to maintain proper airflow.

A ventilator (vent) is a machine that helps with breathing. It delivers oxygen through tubing connected to the trach, ensuring air reaches the lungs. The vent can either fully or partially support the breathing process. My vent was a constant presence, often jokingly referred to by my respiratory therapist as R2-D2 from Star Wars.

Attached to the trach were various tubes and accessories, including a humidifier to keep air moist and prevent dryness in my airway. Another critical part of trach care was suctioning, which involved removing mucus and secretions that could build up and block the airway. A thin, flexible tube was gently inserted through the trach to clear out mucus and secretions. While the process wasn’t painful, it looked and felt unusual. Keeping my airway clean was essential to prevent complications, and I was fortunate to have a great medical team ensuring it was done properly.

Deep breathing was virtually non-existent for me at that time, as the ventilator took over the work of breathing. The dependency on the ventilator was so significant that every time I was moved from my hospital bed to my wheelchair, the trach had to be disconnected and quickly reconnected. Without it, I would rapidly start turning blue due to the lack of oxygen. My airway was exposed, making ventilation a non-stop necessity in my life at that time.

The ventilator regulated my breathing in a specific rhythm, which meant that any disruption, such as emotional distress, could trigger alarms. If I began to cry or became overly emotional, the ventilator would react by sounding those alarms, immediately alerting the nurses and therapists. In moments like these, my hospital room would fill with medical staff ensuring my oxygen levels remained stable.

The Trach

I quickly learned that suppressing my emotions was the easiest way to avoid triggering the ventilator’s alarms and the subsequent flood of medical attention. It was an adjustment, realizing that something as natural as expressing emotions could have such a direct impact on my physical well-being. During this time, I had to mentally adapt, finding ways to cope with my feelings without physically reacting in a way that could compromise my breathing.

Having a respiratory therapist was both a necessity and, at times, a welcome break. I had one during the day and another at night, but the one at night always had a good sense of humor. I remember how he’d jokingly insist that I should ditch my vent, calling it R2-D2 from Star Wars. While I wasn’t quite ready to part with it at the time, his teasing made the situation feel a little less heavy.

One of the more unnerving moments with my vent was the night my alarms went off unexpectedly. I was already in bed when something happened—I passed out. Thankfully, I was lying down when my blood pressure skyrocketed to a dangerously high level, 180 over 200. A crushing headache followed, and when I came to, my room was full of medical staff. No one had a clear explanation for what happened, but I could tell by their faces that it wasn’t something to take lightly. Moments like that reminded me how delicate my situation was, but also how quickly the team around me responded when I needed them most.

The Challenge of Independent Breathing

The Button and Oxygen

The respiratory physicians did not have high hopes that I could breathe without the ventilator. So when the main doctor left on vacation, the assistant physician came in and said, "We are going to try independent breathing." We knew this was a big deal because I had not had independent breathing for almost three months, which is a long time to be dependent on a ventilator. Most people are not on them that long, and when they are, they usually do not come off of them.

For the daytime, I would be off of the vent and back on it during the night. My mom physically had to sit in the room and coach me through the process, saying, "Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out." Since I had not done this on my own in so long, I needed to retrain my body on how it was done.

After a couple of days of this, that same assistant physician said, "Okay, she has been doing well. We are going to let her spend a night in the ICU without the trach, for observation, and see how that goes." Needless to say, I was nervous, spending the night in the ICU, breathing on my own with no trach. But the next day, it all proved fruitful, and I made that hurdle.

When the main respiratory doctor returned to the hospital, I believe he was a bit stunned by what had taken place. But I love when people who might inadvertently underestimate God are proved wrong. Humans are very smart, but they don’t know everything.

With that success, I was ready to be off my trach.

The Final Steps After My Tracheostomy Removal

The Plug

After my tracheostomy was removed, there were two important steps before my stoma fully closed. The first was the trach button, a small device placed in the opening to keep it from closing too quickly. This allowed doctors to monitor my breathing and ensure I could manage secretions without any complications.

The next step was the stoma stent (or plug). This was a smaller insert that helped the stoma gradually close while still providing a safeguard in case I had trouble breathing. Over time, my body adjusted, and the stoma naturally sealed.

These steps were crucial in making sure I transitioned safely from having a trach to breathing completely on my own.

During this transition, they also put me on oxygen tanks, which I used constantly after weaning off the trach.

Once the doctors determined that everything was stable, they removed the button, and we simply covered the hole with a band-aid. They reassured us that it would heal quickly, and they showed my mom the proper way to clean the area. The hole was at least the diameter of my pinky, if not larger, but within 24 to 36 hours, it had completely healed.

The oxygen I used came in the tall canisters you might be familiar with, and I was on it 24/7 for several months. Even after returning home to North Carolina, I still needed it at night. But thankfully, after a little while—just a few months—it was all taken away. That was a relief, another milestone in my journey of healing and faith.

Now I have zero breathing assistance since 2009-2010.

The Power of Every Breath

To me, every breath means a lot. When you can take a deep breath or sigh of relief and just feel the fresh air going in and coming out of your body, it's pretty amazing if you think about it. That’s why it is important that we use every breath to its fullest potential, because not everyone has that opportunity. The very act of breathing, something so many take for granted, became something I cherished.

As Job 33:4 reminds us: "The Spirit of God hath made me, and the breath of the Almighty hath given me life."

Breathing is a gift, a sign of life, and a testament to God’s grace. Psalm 150:6  says, "Let every thing that hath breath praise the Lord. Praise ye the Lord." My journey has taught me that even the simplest things, like taking a breath, are blessings that should never be overlooked.

A Testament to God's Faithfulness

Looking back, that season of my life was both physically and emotionally challenging. Relying on a ventilator for survival was an experience that reshaped how I viewed something as fundamental as breathing. It made me appreciate the ability to breathe independently even more and gave me a newfound respect for those who live with long-term respiratory support. My journey with the trach and ventilator was another testament to God’s grace and the resilience He instilled in me to navigate such a difficult chapter of my recovery.

Isaiah 42:5 beautifully states: "Thus saith God the Lord, he that created the heavens, and stretched them out; he that spread forth the earth, and that which cometh out of it; he that giveth breath unto the people upon it, and spirit to them that walk therein."

I am forever grateful for the breath that God has given me and for the strength He has provided through every step of this journey.

This experience didn’t just teach me about breathing—it taught me about trusting God even when the odds seemed impossible. If He could bring me through that, I know He can carry me through anything.

Please share, how do you make your breaths matter?

Be encouraged. 🧡

Faith, Friendship, and a White Washcloth

Managing Saliva: A Journey of Adaptation and Unexpected Blessings

Some topics are tough, but sharing them can encourage others facing similar challenges. Today, I want to share my experience with saliva control—or rather, my lack of it—following my 2009 accident.

Yankauer Tip

No Swallowing, No Control

When I suffered my injuries, one of the immediate effects was losing my ability to swallow. This meant I had an overabundance of saliva that I could not control or keep in my mouth. I also had a near-constant nasal drip, making things even harder. The saliva and nasal fluid flowed almost non-stop, making it necessary to have a way to keep things sanitary.

To manage this, I relied on a Yankauer suction tool, a medical device designed to clear secretions. It became a constant companion in my daily routine. It’s typically attached to a suction hose and designed for efficient fluid removal. Its durable construction and ergonomic shape make it a reliable instrument in bedside care settings.

This device was something I had to use all the time. I had to change out the suction tip regularly, and nurses would sometimes need to replace the hose.

Fixed Suction Room Design

In old pictures of me in my wheelchair or hospital bed, you might see a white washcloth near my neck. That wasn’t just for comfort—it was to catch any extra saliva or nasal drip. Managing this at night was a constant battle. I would wake up to find my washcloth completely saturated, and this happened from the very first day and continued without stopping.

Then, one night, something changed. I woke up the next morning, and my nasal drip was completely gone. Just like that. I don’t know what happened, but I see it as an unexpected blessing from the Lord. I don’t know where all that liquid went, but I am beyond grateful that it stopped.

“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” (Psalm 46:1)

Life at Home: Adjusting to New Routines

Once I returned home, I still relied on a suction system for a few months, but this time, I had a portable Yankauer Box that collected the liquid into a container. My mom had to empty it daily—sometimes even twice a day—because it would fill up quickly. To help with odor control (because let’s be honest, mouth fluids don’t smell great), we would pour a little Listerine into the container to keep things fresher.

Portable Yankauer Box Components

To help reduce my saliva production, I also wear a prescription Scopolamine patch. It’s a small patch I wear behind my ear, alternating sides every 72 hours. While it has helped tremendously, my saliva production still varies depending on the weather. When it’s rainy or snowy, my saliva tends to increase, which can make management a bit more challenging.

Lessons in Adaptation

Looking back, learning to manage my saliva was not just about medical devices and hygiene—it was about patience, adaptation, and persistence. It was frustrating, exhausting, and sometimes discouraging, but over time, I found ways to improve.

I hope that by sharing this, others who may be struggling with similar challenges can know they’re not alone. Some improvements happen slowly over time, and some—like my nasal drip disappearing—happen in an instant, reminding me that God is always at work, even in the smallest details.

“And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28)

The Importance of Weight Shifting: Preventing Pressure Sores

Wheelchair Weight Shift, 2009

While learning to manage saliva was one challenge, preventing pressure sores was another crucial aspect of my recovery. I needed to know how to manage pressure on my body due to extended periods of lying in bed or sitting in a wheelchair. When mobility is limited, it’s crucial to be mindful of weight distribution to prevent pressure sores—a serious issue that can develop when too much pressure is placed on the same areas of skin for too long.

Weight Shifting in My Wheelchair

To prevent pressure sores, I had to perform weight shifts every 30 minutes while sitting in my wheelchair. This meant that every half hour, I would tilt my wheelchair backward, putting myself into a more horizontal position for one full minute. This simple action relieved the constant pressure on my buttocks and lower body, giving my skin a break before I returned to my upright position.

This routine was essential to my daily life. Without regular weight shifts, people who are constantly in a wheelchair or bedridden are at high risk for skin breakdown. Pressure sores can become extremely painful, take a long time to heal, and even lead to serious infections. That’s why caregivers and medical staff emphasize the importance of movement, even if it’s small adjustments like tilting in a chair or repositioning in bed.

Repositioning in the Hospital: No Such Thing as Undisturbed Sleep

While in the hospital, I couldn’t perform weight shifts on my own while lying in bed, so the nurses took on that responsibility. Every four hours, they would come to reposition me—sometimes moving me onto my back, then four hours later shifting me to my right side, propping me up with pillows and blankets, and then next time moving me to my left side.

This wasn’t just during the day—it happened throughout the night as well. So, as you can imagine, getting a full night of undisturbed sleep in the hospital was impossible. Just as I’d start to drift into deeper rest, it would be time for another repositioning. While frustrating at times, I knew it was necessary to protect my skin and prevent pressure sores from forming.

Visitors

“And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Corinthians 12:9)

Why Weight Shifting Matters

For anyone with limited mobility, whether due to an injury, surgery, or a medical condition, being proactive about weight shifts is key. Caregivers play a vital role in helping those who cannot shift their weight on their own, ensuring their loved ones don’t experience painful skin damage.

Looking back, I’m thankful that I was taught the importance of weight shifting early on in my recovery. Though it was a simple action, it was a necessary step in maintaining my health and preventing further complications.

The Power of Presence: Family Visits and Support

One of the greatest blessings during my recovery was the unwavering support of my family, friends, and coworkers. Being over four hours away from home at Shepherd Center in Atlanta, Georgia, I knew visits weren’t always easy. Yet, despite the distance, my family and loved ones made the effort to visit as often as possible, some even every other weekend, strictly keeping to their visitation routine.

Shepherd Center didn’t restrict visitation, allowing my family to visit freely. That policy made a world of difference in my healing process. The emotional support, the simple presence of a familiar face, and the reminder that I was not forgotten helped me push through even the toughest days.

A Wall of Encouragement

Besides visits, I received countless cards and letters full of prayers and encouragement. My mom taped them onto the hospital wall, and I remember how they covered an entire section of the room—a visual testament to the love and encouragement pouring in from all directions. All the colors of the rainbow with hand written, heart-felt notes. I wish I had taken a photo of it, but I will never forget how that wall of words lifted my spirits.

A Community of Support Online

In addition to physical visits and mail, my mom kept a daily online journal on a website called CaringBridge. She updated it nearly every evening with details about my progress, and then she would sit beside me, reading aloud the comments and messages people left. Many faithful visitors left encouraging words and prayers online, even if they couldn’t visit in person.

Why Support Matters

This taught me that even small gestures make a big difference. Whether it's visiting someone in the hospital, sending a card, or even leaving a kind message online, those simple acts can uplift a weary heart.

The Bible tells us in Matthew 25:36, “I was sick, and ye visited me.” We are called to care for and encourage those in difficult circumstances, whether they are sick, injured, or facing hardship. I am forever grateful for those who showed up for me—both physically and in spirit—during one of the hardest times in my life.

“And let us consider one another to provoke unto love and to good works: Not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together, as the manner of some is; but exhorting one another: and so much the more, as ye see the day approaching.” (Hebrews 10:24-25)

If you ever wonder whether your kindness matters, let me assure you—it does.

Just as God provided relief from my nasal drip overnight, He also surrounded me with a loving support system during my recovery. Through every challenge—big or small—God’s presence and the love of those around me carried me through.

 Be encouraged. 🧡

                                🎵Amazing Grace My Chains are Gone

Will I eat by mouth again?

Ready to go with my lunch box.

One of the most common questions I get is: "When will you eat by mouth again?" or "When do you think that will happen?" After over 15 years of using a feeding tube, I understand why people ask. So, I’d like to take a moment to answer it fully.

My Journey with a Feeding Tube

Questions showcase a natural curiosity; hopefully I can provide answers that may help. Since July 2009, all my food, drink, and medications have been taken through a feeding tube. I don’t consume anything by mouth—not even water. However, because I love to cook and bake, I do taste food. But when I do, I have to be extremely careful to spit it out.

This caution is necessary because my esophagus does not function the way it should. Normally, when you swallow, food travels down the esophagus into the stomach. If something "goes down the wrong way," your body recognizes it and triggers a cough reflex to protect your airway. But in my case, I wouldn’t feel it if food went into my trachea and toward my lungs. That’s a major risk, as aspiration can lead to serious complications.

Even though this has been my reality for years, I hold on to faith and trust that God’s plan is perfect. "For with God nothing shall be impossible." (Luke 1:37)

The Swallow Studies

Over the years, I’ve worked with speech therapists and undergone numerous swallow studies to evaluate my ability to swallow safely. These tests involve eating different textures—like applesauce, yogurt, or ice chips—coated with barium, a substance that shows up on X-rays. As I swallow, the X-ray machine captures real-time images, tracking whether the food moves safely down my esophagus into my stomach. These swallow studies provide visual answers to lingering questions.

swallow study real-time x-ray example

I have tried every technique in the book—tucking my chin, turning my head, adjusting my posture—yet every test has shown the same result: only a small trickle of liquid reaches my stomach. After so many swallow studies that I’ve lost count, the outcome has remained consistent.

Though the tests haven't shown significant progress, I am reminded of Hebrews 11:1, which says: "Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen."

I may not see results yet, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t coming.

Medical Interventions: The ENT Procedures

In addition to speech therapy, I also pursued another avenue: working with an ear, nose, and throat (ENT) physician to explore a possible procedure to help.

The procedure involved going under general anesthesia so the doctor could inject Botox into my upper esophageal sphincter muscle. The idea was that Botox would relax the muscle for three to six months, potentially allowing for improved swallowing. However, in my case, the effects never even lasted the full three months.

While under anesthesia, the doctor would also use a tool to stretch the esophageal opening. Over several months—and even years—I underwent this procedure multiple times. Each time, the doctor used a slightly larger gauge tool, eventually reaching the size of a garden hose in diameter.

Despite all of these efforts, the procedures did not yield the results we hoped for. I don’t know why they didn’t work, but I do know that I have not lost hope. Romans 8:28 reminds me: "And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose."

throat stretching procedure

The only lingering effect of those procedures was a sore throat for a couple of days—nothing unbearable.

The Possibility of Eating by Mouth Again

I have been told that medically, there is no reason I shouldn’t be able to eat by mouth in the future. The ability to swallow is controlled by a nerve, and nerves do regenerate—but they do so slowly.

So, will it happen? I don’t know. And I don’t know when. But I do know this: These setbacks have not discouraged me. My feeding tube has not stopped me from living my life fully.

In the meantime, I have many dinner invitations waiting for me when that day comes! I have been blessed with family and friends who have promised to shower me with meals when I can finally eat by mouth again. I may be set for weeks—if not months—of home-cooked food from loved ones! That thought alone brings joy to my heart.

I hold onto Jeremiah 29:11, which says: "For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end."

Eating Is a Social Experience, and I Love Being Included

At first, I know some people might feel uncomfortable eating around me because they know I eat differently and don’t want to make me feel left out. But the truth is—it doesn’t bother me at all! Everyone has to eat, and I actually enjoy being included in meals, even if I’m not eating in the same way.

Eating is such a social experience, and I love the fellowship that comes with it. I don’t mind being invited to restaurants or going out to eat with friends. The only difference is that I can’t be quite as spontaneous when it comes to food.

If I know ahead of time that I’ll be out for a while, I pack a lunchbox with my food and tools to administer it. When I meet someone at a restaurant, I either eat beforehand or bring my food with me if I think I’ll need it. But if I don’t have anything packed, that doesn’t mean I can’t still join in and enjoy the company!

how the esophagus stretching works

This experience has taught me a lot about planning, but it has also taught me about the importance of inclusion. Even though I eat differently, I still love to sit at the table and share in the joy of a meal. Psalm 133:1 says: "Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity!"

At the end of the day, it’s not just about food—it’s about the people, the conversations, and the memories made around the table.

I always love when I cook specific dishes or bake to share with my family. The joy of seeing them enjoy my food and hearing their feedback makes me feel included in the experience, even if I’m not eating it myself. Family gatherings that revolve around meals have never made me feel out of place. I simply pack my food and eat when everyone else is eating—just in my own way. It’s understood and expected, so it doesn’t feel like a big deal.

My family has always found creative ways to make sure I feel celebrated, like when my family found a unique way to celebrate my birthday. Instead of a traditional cake, they built a "cake" made entirely of useful items—pens, highlighters, sticky notes, spatulas, and washcloths. It was such a thoughtful and creative gesture! I’ve also received a beautiful cake made of flowers before. These moments remind me that there are always ways to make adjustments that accommodate my needs while still being part of the celebration.

esophagus stretching gauges

"God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble." (Psalm 46:1)

I do have to report that there has been no significant change in my swallowing ability—at least not yet. But just because there’s no new update doesn’t mean that nothing is happening. I’m also not brushing it off, but it’s not something that consumes my thoughts, if that makes sense. It simply is what it is.

The truth is, I try to be content with where I am while still striving to move forward in my recovery. I’m not stagnant in any way when it comes to my inability to eat by mouth. I don’t let it define me, but I also don’t ignore it. I’m learning to live in the balance—pushing forward while choosing contentment.

Final Thoughts

I appreciate the kindness and curiosity behind the question, and I hope this provides some clarity. If there ever comes a day when I can safely enjoy a meal again, I’ll be sure to share that moment. Until then, I’ll keep cooking, baking, and living life to the fullest—one tube-fed meal at a time!

No matter what lies ahead, I rest in Psalm 34:8, which says: "O taste and see that the Lord is good: blessed is the man that trusteth in him."

My circumstances have shaped how I think, my perseverance and faith. I may not taste food the way others do, but I have surely tasted and seen that the Lord is good. And that is more satisfying than any meal!

[These posts offer more information regarding my feeding tube and swallowing ability. My Daily Bread: what not swallowing means and Sustained by God: my feeding tube life]

Share, are you content?

Be encouraged. 🧡

Shaky Hands, Steady Faith

the alphabet board

While perusing through pictures of my recovery from 2009, I was reminded of something I endure that you may not know about: ataxia. Ataxia is a neurological condition that affects muscle control and coordination. Ataxia can lead to problems with balance, walking, speech, and fine motor skills. It’s often caused by damage to the cerebellum (the part of the brain responsible for coordination) or other parts of the nervous system. It can impact basic movements that many people take for granted.

One aspect of ataxia that affects me significantly is how it impacts my eyes. Nystagmus is a condition where the eyes make uncontrolled, repetitive movements, which can result in reduced vision or depth perception. These movements may occur side-to-side (horizontal nystagmus), up-and-down (vertical nystagmus), or in a circular pattern (rotary nystagmus).

I sometimes feel my eyeballs shaking vertically. (You wouldn't notice). This sensation can make me feel less confident in tasks such as driving at night or watching a movie with subtitles. When my eyes aren’t cooperating, I have to be extra cautious and alert during these activities, relying on prayer and God’s guidance to calm my nerves and keep me safe.

"I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me." (Philippians 4:13)

The Challenge of Communication and Everyday Tasks

One vivid memory of my early recovery is the time when I relied on an alphabet board to communicate. With a tracheostomy preventing oral communication and my right arm unable to move, my only option was to use my left hand to point to letters on the board. However, my left hand was not my dominant one and was also affected by ataxia.

Playing Connect 4 with a therapist, 2009

What should have been a simple task—pointing to a letter—often took several minutes. My hand would shake uncontrollably, moving in directions my brain didn’t intend. It felt like a constant battle to guide my hand to the right spot, but with determination and patience, I would eventually succeed.

This struggle wasn’t just limited to communication. Activities like using a spoon to pick up marbles or beads for crafts were equally challenging. Many times, I ended up spilling the items all over the table or floor. Even today, I still encounter difficulty with fine motor tasks like picking up coins.

Another memory that stood out to me was my attempts at playing a simple game like Connect 4. Early in my recovery, two games could take me up to two hours because of my lack of muscle control. Placing each piece where I wanted it to go required intense focus, determination, and countless attempts.

Imagine trying to thread a needle while wearing thick gloves or trying to walk on ice without slipping—that’s what it felt like to guide my hand to the right spot or to place a game piece where I wanted it. My brain would give the command, but my body would hesitate, stutter, or outright rebel. It was exhausting, humiliating, and humbling all at once.

I’ll never forget the first time I completed a game of Connect 4 in under an hour. I was so proud of myself because I played my brother—a very worthy opponent—and beat him. (He better not have let me win). That victory remains a vivid memory.

, 

Playing Connect 4 with my brother, 2009

"The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusted in him, and I am helped." (Psalm 28:7)

The Gift of Patience and Encouragement

Seeing these photos reminded me not just of my struggles but also of the patience and kindness shown to me by my therapists and nurses. They never got angry or frustrated at my lack of ability. Instead, they displayed the most incredible patience, encouraging me to try again, even if it was the fifth time I spilled beads on the floor or the two hours it took to play one game of Connect 4.

This reminds me of the special, unique qualities God gives each of us. These caregivers were chosen for their roles, and their patience and encouragement were a reflection of God's grace. When I wanted to quit, their words and actions reminded me to persevere.

"And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not." (Galatians 6:9)

Faith Through Frustration

These challenges could have left me feeling defeated, but instead, they taught me the value of perseverance and faith. I learned to rely on God’s strength when mine was insufficient. Each small victory—whether it was finally pointing to a letter or completing a simple task—was a testament to His faithfulness and the strength He gives us to endure.

I share this part of my journey to remind you that God is present even in our struggles. When life feels overwhelming, and we face what seem like insurmountable challenges, He provides the grace and strength we need to press on.

"My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness." (2 Corinthians 12:9)

Reflection on God’s Plan

Looking back, I can see how God was shaping my heart during this process. He wasn’t just healing my body—He was teaching me patience, humility, and a deeper reliance on Him. Every shaky step and every shaky hand was an opportunity to lean into His strength and trust that He was holding me up.

Even now, I still experience ataxia and nystagmus, and I don’t know if they will ever completely disappear. However, you wouldn’t notice unless you knew what to look for—or observed me closely (but don’t stare too long!). Thankfully, there are no obvious outward signs, and over the years, I’ve come to accept that. I believe God is still perfecting His plan for my life, even if it hasn’t fully unfolded yet. His timing is perfect, even when I wish things would happen faster. This journey was unexpected; I didn’t wake up that morning in 2009 knowing my life would be forever changed. But God knew. He sees the end from the beginning.

In my humanness, I may not fully understand His reasons, but I know I must stay encouraged. There have been many moments where I felt distraught, tired, and ready to quit, but I reminded myself that I still have a role to play. I cannot sit idly by, waiting for improvement without putting in the effort. God honors hard work, and I believe that when you’ve done all you can, He steps in to give you the strength to go a little further.

This journey has taught me that while the road may be difficult, it is not without purpose. Each challenge has been an opportunity to grow, to trust, and to persevere. God has been with me every step of the way, and I trust that He will continue to guide me as His perfect plan unfolds.

I do have things that bother me because, even though I try not to compare myself to others—or even to my past self—sometimes it's just a human thing to do. But one thing I’ve learned is that with God, nothing is impossible.

There were times, because of my injuries and conditions, that I wondered if I would ever be able to do certain things—like drive. And while no one has directly said it to me, I’m sure that some people looking at my situation have had their doubts about what I could accomplish. But I have never let that stop me from trying.

I know myself. I am smart, aware, and in tune with my own capabilities. I also know when something doesn’t feel like the right time. But when I set my mind to something, I pursue it.

I pursued the goal of driving.

I pursued the goal of taking a road trip.

I pursued the goal of being comfortable using the shooting range.

In each of these, I took the time to learn all I could—to be informed, to understand the challenges, and to figure out ways to overcome them. And by doing so, I have achieved things that once seemed uncertain.

“Wisdom is the principal thing; therefore get wisdom: and with all thy getting get understanding.” (Proverbs 4:7)

I don’t say this to boast but to encourage you. What seems impossible is only impossible if you allow yourself to believe it is. That doesn’t mean the challenges aren’t real. I would never diminish anyone’s struggles. But I also believe that, with determination, faith, and a willingness to adapt, there is often a way forward.

If you’re facing something that feels impossible right now, I hope this reminds you that you are capable of more than you think. And with God, nothing is out of reach.

What are your pursuits? Is God one of them?

Be encouraged. 🧡

                                                    

Dreams, Determination & Purpose

In August 2009, my life was in a fragile state after my motorcycle accident. Among my injuries was a fractured spine at T7, requiring a six-hour surgery to meticulously place the fragmented pieces of my vertebrae back where they belonged. The surgeon secured everything with two 9-to-10-inch titanium rods and screws—a procedure that was critical to my recovery.

The Significance of the TLSO Brace

After the surgery, I was told I’d need to wear a TLSO brace, commonly called a "turtle shell," to keep my torso stable and allow my vertebrae to heal properly. TLSO stands for Thoracolumbosacral Orthosis:

• Thoraco refers to the thoracic spine (upper and mid-back).
• Lumbar refers to the lower back.
• Sacral refers to the sacrum, the area at the base of the spine.
• Orthosis refers to a brace or support device.

This hard plastic shell would encase my body from just below my collarbone to just above my hips, preventing any movement or twisting that could jeopardize my recovery.

My TLSO Brace

Choosing the Butterfly Pattern

I had the chance to choose the color and design of my brace, and I selected purple with a butterfly pattern. Butterflies are a symbol of transformation, and at that time, I didn’t realize just how meaningful that choice would become.

The brace became an essential part of my wardrobe for six weeks. It was worn over my clothes, snapped together in the front and back, and only removed for sponge baths and clothing changes. While it limited my mobility, I wasn’t moving much during that period, so it wasn’t as intrusive as it could have been. However, following the doctors’ instructions to the letter was crucial, and I took the responsibility seriously.

Butterflies at the Shepherd Center

When I was transferred to the Shepherd Center in Atlanta for rehabilitation, I noticed something remarkable. Many patient rooms had ceiling tiles decorated with artwork, and butterflies were a recurring theme. It felt significant to me, as if God was affirming the metaphor of my choice. A butterfly begins as a caterpillar, confined in its chrysalis during its transformation. Once it emerges, it is forever changed and can never return to what it once was.

Spiritual Reflection: Transformation Through Faith

This resonated deeply with my journey. My accident and recovery were my own metamorphosis, a process that transformed me in every way—physically, emotionally, and spiritually. As Romans 12:2 reminds us: "And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God."

At around four weeks post-surgery, my doctors evaluated whether I still needed the brace. Their assessment was clear: I moved enough to require wearing it for the full six weeks. Though it was cumbersome at times, it was a vital tool in my healing process, reminding me daily to remain patient and trust the journey.

Looking back, that purple butterfly brace was more than just a medical necessity; it became a symbol of hope and a constant reminder that I was undergoing a transformation. Just as 2 Corinthians 5:17 declares: "Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new."

Like a butterfly, I would emerge stronger, with a new sense of purpose and a story of God’s faithfulness to share with the world.

Blurred Reality in the ICU

During my time in the ICU in North Carolina, much of what happened remains a blur. I wasn’t coherent and don’t remember much from those weeks. The line between dreams and reality often felt indistinguishable, and I had to ask if certain events actually happened or if they were figments of my imagination. But there are some dreams from that time I vividly remember.

A Recurring Dream of Comfort

Now, I’m not saying all dreams are prophetic. However, the Bible teaches us that God can use dreams to communicate, guide, and comfort His people. Joseph’s dreams in Genesis and the visions of Daniel come to mind. Whether or not my dreams were directly from God, I cannot help but feel they were meant to encourage me during one of the most challenging times in my life.

One recurring dream stands out to me, particularly as I reflect on my journey. In this dream, I was experiencing heat—something that makes sense now, as it was July, and the hospital’s beautiful, large windows let in the summer sun. I also underwent countless MRIs, CAT scans, and other imaging procedures, all of which might explain the sensations I felt in the dream.

Symbolism and Interpretation

But what truly struck me was this: in the dream, Jake, my husband, would take my hand. Together, we would float off the ground, rising toward the sky. As we ascended, I would suddenly hit an invisible barrier, bouncing back down to earth. Jake, however, would continue upward.

At the time, I didn’t understand it, but as I’ve reflected on that dream, I see it as a source of comfort. To me, it symbolized Jake waiting for me and moving on to heaven. The fact that I could not pass through the barrier, no matter how hard I tried, spoke volumes: it wasn’t my time to go.

USS NC, Wilmington, April 2009

Finding Renewed Purpose

This realization brought me peace and a renewed sense of purpose. It was as if God was reminding me through this dream that I needed to focus on the work ahead. It wasn’t my time to leave; it was my time to live. “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end” (Jeremiah 29:11).

From that moment on, I knew I needed to do everything in my power to aid in my recovery. I needed to make every effort to regain my strength, to keep moving forward, and to embrace the life God had preserved for me.

Living with Purpose: A Life Preserved by God

This dream, whether inspired by my own subconscious or divinely given, served as a pivotal moment in my journey. It helped me shift my perspective and recognize that even in the darkest times, God provides glimpses of hope and reassurance. As Job 33:15-16 reminds us, “In a dream, in a vision of the night, when deep sleep falleth upon men, in slumberings upon the bed; Then he openeth the ears of men, and sealeth their instruction.”

For anyone going through hardship, I encourage you to look for those moments of reassurance, no matter how small. Whether they come in a dream, a kind word, or an unexpected blessing, they are reminders that God is near, guiding you and strengthening you for the journey ahead.

As I look back now, that dream was more than just a fleeting image in my mind—it was a catalyst for action and a reminder that my story wasn’t over. “I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the Lord” (Psalm 118:17).

Initially, I remember praying in my spirit that I would die. But in that moment of prayer, I felt God speak to me, saying, "You will not die." That revelation changed everything for me. So I pressed on, determined to get busy living, trusting that God still had a purpose for me.

The Bible tells us that we all have an appointment with death. It is not a respecter of persons; it can come for anyone at any time. You don’t have to reach a certain age or be in a specific situation for death to make its appearance. That is a sobering reality to reflect on.

This truth challenges us to make the most of the time we have, living without regrets. It’s important that we can feel confident in the lives we lead and the example we share with others.

How are you fully living?

Be encouraged. 🧡