Wisdom is the principal thing

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, 

who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. 

Everyone's lives are so fast-paced. We're always rushing through our days wondering how we're going to get everything finished with a little time left for the family or ourselves. Then, when something out of the ordinary happens in our lives, it can knock us of our feet! But for me, it was the times when I was "knocked off my feet" that forced me to STOP. I believe God allowed me to be flat on my back at times in my life, to remind me to LOOK UP and to LISTEN. 

My youth was not so different than anyone else’s. I met my "soul mate" at a young age, we had three beautiful daughters, and suddenly my life was in high gear! 

I was blessed enough to stay home with the girls, for the most part. Being a wife and mother were the JOYS of my life and I gave it everything I had. My husband worked long hours, we were on a tight budget, and caring for the girls kept us busy all the time. I homeschooled them through much of their growing years, which in itself is a huge endeavor. 

The first time I was really knocked off my feet was in 1988. We were having friends over for pizza and movies, and I began to feel ill.

 I eventually went into the bathroom to find that I had a bright, hot, red stripe from my thigh to my ankle. My fever jumped to 104*. I was admitted to the hospital with a diagnosis of Osteomylitis, or "bone infection" of the left ankle. I had the first of more than 20+ operations attempting to "scrape" out the infected tissue. The first of many, many long hospitalizations for strong IV antibiotics and other treatments. God was beginning to become more and more real to me. Where else do you turn when you're so sick, in the hospital, and have three growing girls at home? 

After five years of surgeries and no success with antibiotics, doctors told my husband and I that it was now the leg, or my life. My left leg was amputated below the knee in August of 1993. I was angry. Angry at God, angry at the world. We had prayed so hard for God to heal this infection. Our church prayed, our friends and family all prayed so hard. WHY did God let this happen? I received my answer a day or two after the surgery. Pathologists found that I had a Level 4 Melanoma in that ankle. Doctors missed it on x-rays because the infection was so bad, the area was severely ulcerated. Had my leg NOT been removed, it would have been just a matter of time until the cancer spread throughout my lymph system. GOD IS GOOD. 

I was learning to TRUST God. I was beginning to be more aware of how He works in our lives. Although I was raised in church and had attended all my life, I was learning what it meant to accept Him personally for myself, rather than an "inherited religion". I began to learn the difference between religion and having a "personal relationship with Jesus". 

In 1998 I began noticing problems with my balance and coordination. My legs began to be weaker, and I was even having some strength issues with my arms and hands, often dropping things or being unable to grasp as well. I was eventually referred to one neurologist after another. I was born with a birth defect known as Spina Bifida, which can be devastating. But I was very fortunate growing up, and other than several orthopedic surgeries on my legs as a child, I walked and played like any other child. We began to learn that these new symptoms I was having were due to a complication that is commonly secondary to spinal cord trauma or disease, like Spina Bifida. Eventually we heard the word, "Syringomyelia" for the first time. After a year or so of going from specialist to specialist, and my symptoms becoming more and more severe, I was told I needed a major spinal cord operation. Flat on my back again. 

The surgery was a very difficult one wrought with complications and a long rehabilitation. I had to learn to walk again. I spent long hours in physical therapy at the inpatient Rehab. Center I was admitted to four weeks after surgery. I will never forget the late night in March, when a staff doctor came into my room and sat down. He was a specialist on Syringomyelia (or "SM"for short) and he was there to ask me a lot of questions about my health history. When he was finished, it was MY turn to ask the questions! Until that moment, doctors were somewhat vague about the symptoms of "SM" and what kind of future I could expect. He explained how "Syrinx", or fluid-filled cysts, form in the spinal cord sack, destroying any nerves in their path. These syrinx can grow inexplicably overnight, or they can grow slowly over months or years. There have been "SM" sufferers who have woke up paralyzed after a night’s sleep. This doctor, whom I have never seen since, told me that he cannot predict the time frame, but that I should expect the disease to progress, first, with the loss of use of my legs, my ability to walk, and my bladder/bowel function. And eventually the syrinx damage the upper parts of the spinal cord, affecting organ function, the ability to swallow or speak, and eventually to breathe. 

After a year or so I DID improve and I regained the ability to walk. But as is common with "SM", the syrinx returned along with the same symptoms. In 2008 I had the second and final "SM" surgery. The outcome was not successful this time. I'm confined to a wheelchair now, I require a urinary catheter, and I have severe chronic neurological pain. 

BUT... that is NOT the story I most want to share. This is not about surgeries, disease, hospitals and scarey prognosis! It just happens to be the path I was on, that led me to such a wonderful revelation! I was fighting depression following the second spinal cord surgery, trying to find the sense in everything- through my own HUMAN eyes. I read and re-read the scripture that I had based my life and my ministry upon, in II Corinthians 1:3-4. 

"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, 

who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God." 

The Lord helped me to begin to see how very different, the paths of our lives are. Each of us in our own unique set of circumstances, CROSS THE PATHS of different people. FOR ME, this meant so many, many nurses, doctors, physical and occupational therapists, hospital roommates and their family members, hospital counselors, lab technicians, ambulance drivers, fellow amputees, fellow SM sufferers, fellow Spina Bifida patients, and so much more. I began to reflect back on the unique experiences I'd had in my life to "leave a fingerprint" on someone's life. 

There was the young phsycologist that met with me every day for nearly 6 months in the first rehab. hospital back in 1999. She was young, newly graduated, newly married, and eager to learn more in her profession. I shared with her about my faith, the times it was shaken, my pain- physical and emotional, my guilt from not "being there" for my children. She was a great resource for me at the time. A year or so later, after I was back at home, and hadn't given much thought to her in months... I received a beautiful card from her. Inside she wrote that she hoped I was doing much better, and that she thought of ME often!! Me? But why? She went on to say that she always saw "something different" in me, compared to most other patients. She described it as a certain PEACE in the face of real adversity, and this, she said, left a mark on her. "My fingerprint?" 

There was a lab technician that was always the one sent to get blood samples from me. My veins were so overused and abused, that drawing a simple blood sample was a very difficult task, even for the most experienced Phlebotomist. Her name was Mary, and although she was quite good at her job, my veins usually proved to be her daily challenge. It could become quite painful, after poking and prodding with the needle and sometimes I just didn't have the emotional fortitude to get through it without tears. I'd ask Mary if it would be okay for us to pray together before the first "poke". She was always okay with this and she'd respectively bow her head. But I would always say the prayer, as she didn't seem comfortable doing so. But one day, after several months of our frequent visits, she seemed excited to be in my room, and she quickly said, "I want to lead our prayer today!". I get tears in my eyes remembering that moment, even now. She told me later that day, after she'd successfully drawn my blood with one stick, that she always thought prayer had to be said with "fancy words"... and that she'd never heard anyone "just talk to God as though He were a regular person." This was nothing that I had done...but rather, it was something God had done through me, as a result of my "crossing someone's path". Mary had learned to be comfortable to pray and God seemed more approachable for her. What a privilege to be a part of that process! There are so many MORE stories like these to share, but too many to share here in this piece. I plan to dedicate part of my book to more stories like these. More times than not... it is MY LIFE that is impacted in a positive way, by the fingerprints of someone whose path I've crossed. 

There is certainly nothing special about ME. But my UNIQUE experiences allow me to Cross the Paths of a unique group of people. If I cannot find a way to USE what I have learned through my own individual trials, then all I've suffered through was useless. So I now try to be conscious in all that I do, to pay attention to the Paths I cross...of the individual people I meet in my day. Whether it be an online encounter or a person on a bus stop bench we pass on the sidewalk... the opportunity is there. Leave YOUR fingerprint on whoever crosses YOUR path.