It’s my birthday and maybe I’m finally growing up.

I’ve always hated birthdays even before I turned 18. Shy kids generally don’t like being the center of attention and birthdays are especially harsh for someone whose face turns beet red just saying her name. I had a surprise birthday party at maybe age 6 and I cried. The whole time. I have pictures. Adults thought it was cute. I was mortified. (See, I had issues way before the stroke)! I don’t know if there is a reason why I was shy, yet thankfully, it didn’t grip me in enough fear that it paralyzed me as I still was able to play ball, be in front line as a cheerleader (I was one of the short ones), be the caption and do princess pageants as they were called back in the day.

But make no mistake- I was shy. With a smile on my face at all times.

So my Senior year, my 18th birthday, I got 4 more reasons to hate my birthday. Four Senior classmates, friends, co-worker, fellow cheerleader were in a horrible fatal car accident. A fifth senior from another school was also killed in this accident. This was just weeks away from Prom and months away from High School Graduation. I hated it. For all of us. For our Class of 1987.

So young, so invincible. We were just starting the “rest of our lives “. I already had so much mental anguish going on. I had an eating disorder, I thought I was fat and ugly, I hated myself. Losing these beautiful young girls made no sense. It was something horrible and ugly that bonded our class for eternity. If I thought I hated birthdays before, I really hated them now!

⬇️ me: fat and ugly. Unworthy.⬇️

2 months later I’m April I lost another good friend from my catholic school days in a boating accident just one month from his graduation.

So I carried this “non-importance” into my own family. Yes, when the kids were little I did all the big parties- petting zoo, bounce houses, trains, slot car race track, etc….but as they got older I didn’t make it a big deal. We go out for dinner- no presents- hurry home for chores and bed. Just another day. And trust me, I felt guilty. On the upside, my kids don’t have a feeling of entitlement. They know not to expect certain big items at milestone ages. But if we were to do something, it is a nice unexpected surprise. A gift not an expectation.

I didn’t especially want to bring attention to my birthday. It has never been about “another year older” or another wrinkle, or more pounds. I actually enjoy the journey of growing older. I just didn’t want to deal or be reminded of a very sad event that happened on my birthday. How could I celebrate knowing 5 lives were lost on that day to never experience graduation, college, marriage or children. Why celebrate when their families are having a hard time dealing with the anniversary death of their loved one. My birthday- it was not a big deal. Not compared to the reality I knew that was going on around me.

Now today- at 49, a year post stroke – And a year from almost dying, I see birthdays totally different! Life is a gift. It is an important and gracious gift to celebrate the day we were born and took our first breath. It was the start of a beautiful life journey. The miracle of pregnancy and childbirth is such an amazing experience – so the birthday itself should indeed be celebrated. Most funerals use the words “A celebration of life” and that starts with the day of your birth. I’ve heard often “we are not human beings having a spiritual experience: we are spiritual beings having a human experience.” Interpret that however we please but it’s the journey of experience that become our blessings. Yes, life is indeed a gift. And one not to be taken for granted. Like the shock of 5 senior girls dying in one instant moment. Or the tragedy of the most recent school shootings in Parkland. Life also sometimes sucks. It’s part of the journey that makes us stronger, better, more compassionate, and changed. We can share our darkest hours knowing we have survived – but not necessarily unscathed – to help others on their journey. And that’s part of our celebration of life.

When we share, we give.

When we give, we receive.

When we receive, we love.

And when we love, it is well. We are doing exactly what God wants us to do: Love one another just as He has loved us.

So I decided life was too short not to celebrate my birthday. It’s always appreciated, but especially this year, all your birthday wishes were warmly received, welcomed, and treasured in my heart forever. Thank you for giving of your time. Sometimes it’s the simple things that really matter.

I pray you receive back abundantly!

So with said, I may just throw myself a huge 50th birthday party next year to make up for all my bah-hum-bug birthdays. Who knows…. maybe I’ll throw in a surprise or two. Hopefully I won’t cry!!! Lol

Now I’m panicked no one will come! Like this blog if you want to celebrate my 50th next year! I plan on being happy and in love itch life…it will be grand!!!!

So….Happy birthday to me! And happy birthday to you!!! And I will celebrate it everyday for the rest of my days. And there is no better way to honor my friends who passed on from this human experience way too soon.


I lied, I am afraid

I am afraid. My recovery has been nothing short of amazing and I have been strong and brave and resilient to the best of my abilities. I usually get asked “how are you” and I answer with honesty – I’m great – doing awesome- so blessed. But to be truthful (and those answers are correct but) that is only on a physical level.

Should we ask people how they are emotionally? My goodness it could wind up being a tear fest or an angry mess of deep psychological issues. Maybe we don’t really want to know how someone is doing on the emotional level. Maybe we are afraid of the answer feeling not capable of handling such depth or maybe even not wanting to know that much. Maybe we know that person is a complainer anyway and won’t stop talking about the drama and problems in their world. Maybe we don’t want to see sadness or feelings that we too hold in the secrets of heart. I don’t know. What I do know is that I am afraid and I never share that when asked “how you doing girl?”

So my fears I know are sometimes irrational. (Says the neuro shrink I saw in rehab). But they are very real and based on concrete evidence. Meaning my truth and my reality. Such as when I first had the stroke and didn’t sleep fearing I wouldn’t wake up- that’s a real fear and an understandable one. But it is based on emotion not necessarily a medical reality.

My other fears are early Alzheimer and Parkinson’s. I have an injured brain. I’m terrified that these two brain diseases will take advantage of this soft spot that I see as an open door policy for such “violations”.

I know-I’m crazy- no wonder people don’t ask how I am emotionally!! Lol

But to me it’s a real fear and it makes sense. Add in the fact that my dad had dementia/Alzheimer’s so that increases my percentage rate.

So now brings a “friend” who I know only through an online Stroke survivor group. She had the same stroke I did but in January of this year. Her recovery has been amazing and her spirit incredible. When she wasn’t in therapy – she would take laps around her house!!! Seriously? The only laps I take on my day off is around the room chasing down the TV remote control! This girl was on fire in her recovery. A few weeks ago on a Wednesday she complained of a very bad headache. The comments were “lay down”, “feel better soon”, etc. That was the last we heard from her. That Saturday- just 3 days later, she was on life support. Her headache was a massive hemorrhagic stroke. Today, her husband ended her “care control”. I am so sad. This has rocked my boat to my very being. I mean, how? why? I don’t understand. She was doing everything right. She was right where I am in my recovery. I know there are no guarantees in life. There are car accidents, falls, heart attacks, cancer, drownings…. Maybe I got too comfortable for a minute. Maybe I needed to be reminded of how fragile life is. No! I don’t need to be reminded! I know. I know very well how fragile life is! I learned life is delicate before my stroke with each of my 4 miscarriages.  My sweet baby boys. I know life can change in a single moment.  I need no more reminders.   Darn it- really? This has me mad. And sad. And afraid. Afraid enough that I told Cliff I needed to prepare an Advance Directive. I don’t know if I would have the energy or strength to do this again. And I don’t want to find out.

I am grieving this woman I never met but know her like she’s my twin. I know her struggle, her pain, her perseverance, her fatigue, her zeal and love for life. And she got a headache and died. It’s hard to process. It may take me a while. I know it will.  I feel like my spirit has been broken some.

The only one to comfort me on this will be God. Yes, the same God I want to question all my “why’s and how’s in a spitfire sassy way.

I went to Mass and Adoration today.   I don’t see Jesus. I’m in the chapel and I see the Monstrance but I can’t see the Blessed Sacrament – the Consecrated Host – My Jesus. I think it’s the sunlight casting shadows or maybe just the person in front of me blocking my view. So I scoot down some – still nothing. I tilt my head- nothing. Did Father forget to put our Lord in this beautiful monstrance? No way. Where is my Lord?

Ahhhh! My glasses are on top of my head! That must be it!!!

Nope! I cannot see the Most Blessed Sacrament. I see only a mirror type color with no reflection. I don’t understand. It has me stumped. I seem to think that I can’t pray and talk to God because I’m too consumed with the fact that I cannot see Him. So I go to His mother. Mary. Mary, do you know where your Son is? And as I talk from one mother to Another, religion 101 hits. I don’t need to see God to know He is there. Although I would like to, I really don’t need to feel His Presence to talk to Him or hear His voice to know He is listening. So there I am sitting in front of my Savior who I cannot see, feel, or hear yet when I become still and open my heart, I am comforted by His love.

I don’t have answers, I am still somewhat fearful, I still grieve and I still so long to know His desire for me but I know I am comforted and loved. I am also two and a half more hours invested into my relationship with the Lord. And for today, that may be all I need.

Be not afraid

I go before you always

Come follow Me

And I will give you rest

It must have been the Breath of the Holy Spirit

Prayer of St. Augustine

Breathe in me, O Holy Spirit, that my thoughts may all be holy. Act in me, O Holy Spirit, that my work, too, may be holy. Draw my heart, O Holy Spirit, that I love but what is holy. Strengthen me, O Holy Spirit, to defend all that is holy. Guard me, then, O Holy Spirit, that I always may be holy. Amen.

I don’t know what I am. Am I handicapped? Am I disabled? Differently abled? Kinda handicapped but not exactly? I mean, I have a handicapped parking sticker. I qualify for Social Security Disability but it’s still all so confusing to me. I am still me. I just have different needs and obstacles to overcome now. I mean, we all do, right? But sometimes I feel an entitlement of sorts and I DO NOT like that feeling. Maybe entitlement isn’t the right word but there are indeed special and different accommodations that I need that most others don’t. That is hard for me to acknowledge and harder to accept. There are times, things, people or feelings that get in the way and just confuse me even more.

For example, when I was completely wheelchair bound, I would see people parked in handicapped spot with no sticker or have a sticker and hop out of their brand new vehicles- usually an expensive truck with lifts, and

I would get so irritated! I could barely get in and out of my ‘drags the floor’ 2004 Honda Accord!! Fortunately, my dear husband would quickly remind me that not all disabilities can be seen. I’ll repeat that on purpose: not all disabilities can be seen!

Ugh! I’m thinking all sassy-like, “then if crazy is a disability”, we need to make all parking spaces handicapped, esp. with Christmas shopping about to drop on us.

(I promise I’m about to get to the Holy Spirit)

I try to walk everywhere. Most people see my gait and brace and double look to see if I have a fake leg. But the ‘other most’ don’t even notice as they crowd me or cut in front of me throwing me off balance. Grocery shopping is another thing: There are too many people, my left arm can’t hold on to the buggy, I get both brain and physical fatigue fairly easy: so I use a scooter! No big deal. That’s what they are for- people like me who need entitlements, er, um, I mean accommodations.

Now enter Walmart….

(Insert Jaws theme music)

It was a respectable time of day- not too crazy for this store on the 103 if you know what I mean. Parked by the lawn and garden but not in a handicapped parking space because they were all occupied. It’s Walmart. I got a scooter. It felt so good shopping!!!! So good!!! I bee-bop around, gather the 2 things I need and 6 things I don’t need and park myself in a safe, out of the way place while waiting on my mom.

Do you feel the breeze?

(The Holy Spirit is a moving my way)!

So I have set you up partially for my mindset about my un-abilities, my low confidence, my confusion, my forced “entitlement” and how much I despise needing my much needed accommodations yet loving the freedom I get from it.

So I am out of the way of any shoppers and merchandise when I see a lady coming my way (older but not elderly). I notice she is staring at me. I think, maybe I look like someone she knows or is inquisitive about my brace. And she stops right beside me, I smile, and she shakes her head at me. For like a few seconds. Blondie here ( that’s me) still thinks maybe I look like her deceased daughter or something and I’m waiting for her to say something heartwarming. She takes a few more steps- still looking me- I’m still smiling but she stops and shakes her head with one of those disapproving looks only a nun can give. She huffs and puffs and I finally get it!!!! She thinks I am joyriding on that scooter!!!!! She doesn’t see my disability. She doesn’t think I deserve to have those wheels! So I hiked up my pants, and let my gimpy arm go flying, and took a deep breath!!!

Boy, was I ready to open my pandora box of emotions!!!!

I mean, I was ready. Fire breathing dragons had nothing on me! I was ready to be the Walmart headline on National News that night.

I take that deep breath and I hear this sweet voice come out of my mouth that says, “ma’am I’m sorry. I did have a stroke but I can walk if you need this scooter”.


That is totally NOT what I wanted to say!! I hear myself but it’s like I’m possessed. I’m trying to buy in to this force that’s saying “sonia, get her”.

But I don’t. And I can’t. It won’t let me open the box!

Surely, it was the breath of Holy Spirit taking command of my heart and soul and most definitely, my vocal cords.

I see my mom coming down the aisle looking at me with a bit of worry and question as the lady comes over to and puts her hand on the shoulder I can’t feel and starts apologizing- blah blah blah.

She leaves and my mom comes to me and asks if everything is alright and did I know her. I said no and she says “oh, she goes to our church”.

Mic drops

So I boogie scoot to the other side of the store ( lawn and garden) to check out. One person tries to get ahead of me but hahaha I put it in high gear and get there first with my 2 needed items and 6 impulse items to her buggy full of groceries. I notice another lady who had been walking with my mom. Thought it was another church friend. It wasn’t. It was a stalker wanting my scooter.

Said stalker even kindly emptied my buggy on the checkout counter. I blank stared and remained speechless as she talked. I wasn’t sure if the Holy Spirit was still around for me to breathe in.

The Holy Spirit- the third person of the Trinity. The Paraclete. Advocate. Counselor. There are 7 Gifts of the Holy Spirit: wisdom, understanding, counsel, fortitude, knowledge, piety and fear of the Lord.

I don’t see biting of tongue but I’m pretty sure it’s a gift.

So later that evening at dinner, the kids asked me how my day was. Lol oh boy, BIG mistake!!!! I told the tale and ended it with

It’s so hard being handicapped!!”

Yes! I got “the look”, the eye rolls, the muttered grunts, the smart comments, and the quick exit from the table!

Oh well, I just needed to confirm that no one feels sorry for me. Except me 😜

Come Holy Spirit!

I need you.

PS: I also need someone to take me Christmas shopping. I have a handicap parking pass 🙂

Girl, you have issues!

Yeah- I know! How have I lived with myself my whole life?!? I was going to title this “I think I’m gonna cry now” but the more I thought about it, the more “issues” I gave myself!

I had such a busy weekend! Probably the busiest since BS (before stroke). Well, I should rather say I had the busiest weekend as a walker (not the zombie type although that’s how I feel and look when I walk). (And why isn’t busy spelled bizzy? It’s confusing my brain)!

Someone conjugate that for me please: Busy busier busiest????

So I went to Trunk or Treat Friday (Last year I had the stroke the day before the event and apparently I was giving out instructions for my unfinished trunk as I was ‘whisker-ed’ away for a ‘cat’ scan).

So I was kinda sad. For the first time, I didn’t have a Trunk. There were so many people attending this successful event! I have already been grieving my camera and taking “pretty pictures”. Knowing I couldn’t take pictures, I wanted to at least walk around and see the amazing trunks and the awesome costumes the kids were wearing but I was terrified I would be knocked down by a cute 30 lb. goblin or two. I bemoaned myself for not bringing the wheelchair that I told my husband I would take but I didn’t because I didn’t want to look “attention seeking”.

I know right? I have issues! I could have dressed up as a mummy with a broken leg!!!

So instead I sulked! I found a chair, commandeered the volunteer table and sat moping! (Thank you Claribel for talking to me all night)! And when we sulk, the “I hate myself”, “I’m so stupid”, “why did I bother ” phrases pour out and into the brain quicker than lightning on a golf course. It’s a weakness. It brings us down. Makes us self-doubt our whole life. Wipes away all confidence. Pushes us further away from God’s love and purpose He has for our lives.

So, I get through it without analyzing or praying and I move on into the weekend like this. This poor pitiful me! On Sunday, I go the gift shop at the Shrine of Mary, Queen of the Universe. I’m having a hard time. It’s not overly crowded but there is stuff everywhere and people shopping not paying attention to others. I’m not fragile but I really can’t afford to be bumped into. My balance isn’t 100%, I will fall and break my arm or a hip or worse, that $8,000 Nativity set made with delicate crystal. I ask my son to please follow me closely not to keep me from spending money but to protect me….from….. from what?

Jerks? Rude people? Non Christians in a Christian/Catholic store?

Ugh- I am so frustrated. Frustrated on so many levels!! I don’t t have two hands to look and browse. My good hand holds my cane leaving my bad hand still useless! I want to touch and look and flip through books and it’s a difficult task. Something so simple is so hard for me. Esp. with these uncaring people closing around my space, reaching over me, trying to get me to move 2 steps so they can look too at the same moment! Yes, poor pitiful me!

And of course jerks exist- like the lady who jumped in line before me to pay even though I only had 2 items to her 12!!!!!

But I guess in all honesty, I don’t think any one in this weekend of mine would purposely, intentionally knock me over, try to trip me, or make me feel uncomfortable. It’s my own insecurities that are leading me on these knee jerking assumptions of strangers I don’t even know! Now that question leads me to, ‘Do I do that to my friends and family that I DO know and love’?

Ugh- here I am judging people because of my own inabilities. Because of my own lack of confidence – my insecurities- my tunnel vision- my low self- esteem.

In my own weakness, I am creating such damage and it makes me sad….and feeling an urgent need for confession. I need Jesus in my life. I need His love and His mercy. I need to be wrapped in His arms where I am safe, loved and wonderful in His eyes.

In my humanity, I am weak. Girl! I have issues! Many issues. If I take this stroke and all it’s after affects at face value….. well, my life sucks! And that is the power of darkness- the power of the evil one. I must rise and rise again from these moments of despair and the lies I am hearing about myself and telling myself! I mean, I don’t make homemade cranberry sauce for Thanksgiving! I don’t! I don’t know if it really exists?!? But I will see Facebook pictures and pretty instagram pics with a clean kitchen in the background and a very cute apron on this perfect looking mom! An apron? Omg really? I just wear sweats – wipe my hands- (ok hand singular) on them and change clothes in the hallway as guests cross my front door threshold!

I can’t keep up! And I shouldn’t. And you shouldn’t. I am what I am and you are what you are and the most important part of us is that we are a child of God. We make up the body of Christ. We bring many gifts to the table so it’s important to bring our own gift and not someone else’s.

And we shouldn’t judge other people’s gifts or weakness. We all have our own gifts and weaknesses to acknowledge and learn from. Even those jerks who seem to have no regard for poor pitiful me who had a stroke and can’t walk or shop normally- they have gifts! Most definitely weaknesses but also gifts I don’t see.

But boy, did I ever want to fall down and feel sorry for myself! Thank you Jesus for reminding me that when I fall I must get get back up, carry my cross, and finish my walk and my mission just as You did for me.

( But sometimes can I use my wheelchair)? I know- I have issues!

If I should die before I wake (part 1)

When I was a young mom with young kids, this “Now I lay me down to sleep” prayer was an easy, sing-song bedtime prayer for 3 year olds. I remember having conversation with other moms debating the gloom and doom of the last line. What 3 year old wants to go to sleep in a new big kid bed, with a nightlight creating dinosaur shadows, with last words of “if I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take”?

This is the time of AOL and dial up internet and one mom found the alternative lines of “may Angels watch me through the night and wake me with the morning light”. Yet even then, a kid who thinks some angel with a sword like St. Michael watching them sleep is a bit inauspicious.

Fortunately, I am not three so it never scared me. Not that is was my go-to prayer but I actually found comfort that I could sleep peacefully knowing I was in my Father’s hand.

That is until I had a stroke.

Of course death is a certainty of life but we don’t dwell or fear it until it stares you in the face. And that’s the thing about fear… isn’t scary at all until it becomes personal. (Kind of like public speaking, dental work, jumping out of airplanes- it’s all well and good until it’s your turn). And this death thing had become very personal. Not just for me – but the welfare of my husband and kids. I mean – what would they do without me? The house would probably fall apart, with no food, stinky clothes, foul mouths, greasy hair….. right?!? No, that’s not true I know but I am most definitely not ready to leave them!

I stare death in face and I’m not laughing. I am very scared.

My memories run like this: I fell out of my car in the ER parking lot laying there paralyzed from the neck down until some (angel) found me. I said to her ” I think I’m going to die” to which she replied not on my watch. My next memory is a week? or so later being unloaded at Brooks Rehab late at night scared out of my mind!!!! I had no real concept of what happened, who I was, who were “they”, or where I was. Not to mention I couldn’t feel or move half my body! I was so afraid to sleep, so afraid, thinking if I fell asleep I would die. And for 3 or 4 days I didn’t sleep: if I should die before I wake. I wasn’t ready.

Something that once comforted me now scared the heck out of me – like a three year old in a new bed seeing creepy shadows on the wall and hearing strange things in the night.

We all know sleep is vital to health in general but with a brain recovery such as what I was about to face, I needed sleep for resting and especially for healing. After a million questions and much coaxing, I let them prescribe me a drug and dosage that I, “Dr. Sonia”, approved of! And I slept. And it was so wonderful. Now I couldn’t be ‘afraid’ to go to sleep because it was forced on me but I still had a lot of anxiety during the coming days just thinking about it: not sleeping but death.

I have cheated death before. Once when I was 20, a second time in 2008 after an at home miscarriage (my fourth) that I thought I could handle and here I was at deaths door again- 3rd times a charm huh?! I knew if I didn’t learn some real life lessons and start asking myself some real tough questions, I may not get another chance at this beautiful thing called life.

…to be continued

Crying Over Spilled Milk

My ego told me not to write again until I did research on how to properly blog and get myself comfortable maneuvering around this beast. I totally have a word processor brain in an age of the supercomputer. On top of recent dead brain cells according to my MRI.

But I’ve had a bad week and it seems to keep tumbling around like a tornado spinning trash and picking up my good healthy leaves as the days go on. So as I sat at physical therapy waiting for the hour and 15 minutes to pass, I had no choice but to reflect on these terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days. Because this seemed to be my last straw. If one person looked at me and smiled I was in serious danger of breaking out the ugly cry!! Despite looking at my schedule 3 times the night before – I still screwed it up and got the times and therapies all messed up. And I was dropped off at the wrong building so now I was stuck waiting. And I was hungry!

As fate would have it, there was an awesome cafe within smelling distance and clearly! eating food would have eased up on my frustrations but my credit card wasn’t in my pocket so I assumed I left it at home (despite just paying $70 in co/pays with it)! I most certainly wasn’t thinking right. I even texted my husband one of those pouty, frowny faces daring him, silently begging, mentally ‘telepathing’ him to turn around and bring me cash and sit with me in those uncomfortable chairs packed like sardines for like, the rest of my life!! Stroke brain? Blonde moment? I don’t know for sure but this is true for all of us: when we cry over spilled milk, we fail to recognize the good in our life at that very present moment. We fail to see the big picture. We can let this one moment break us or we can build upon it. And if we aren’t building, putting one foot in front of the other then we are stuck – like quicksand in the backwoods with the swamp thing coming after us!

And here I sat crying over spilled milk. These accumulated days of bad timing, nothing going the controlling way I expected it or wanted it, overwhelmed by a long list of errands that screams the reminder that I’m not the same independent person I once was and still depending on getting rides. I was angry, frustrated, hurt, feeling sorry for myself…oh and hungry!

We all have those days where nothing goes the way it’s supposed to – the days where it seems the world is against us – we are climbing our mountain only to keep getting pushed back down.

As I sit moping about how “horrible” my life is, I think back to what started it all. It was something small – nothing to write home about it. But I couldn’t process it enough to let it go. It really was not a big deal until something else happened…and the festering began and Murphy’s Law took over and God took a complete back seat except the occasional “why God?”.

To cry or not to cry? – that is the question. Of course it’s ok to cry! Heck, if you drink soy or almond milk- your spilled milk is way more worthy to cry over than mine! We are human – we have emotions and we react to those feelings. Sometimes quickly, sometimes with anger, laughter, tears, hives, and even full blown temper tantrums. But these moments- these horrible, no good, very bad moments give us some important opportunities. Even if it is only a “why God”- we are still seeking Him out for answers, for consolation, for pause and reflection- we are seeking Him like Three Wise Men in a far away dark land and nothing pleases Him more. Matthew 6:25 Jesus says “I tell you, do not worry about your life” and then He says strive first for the Kingdom of God.

Now if you went to parochial school, right about now you are humming “seek ye-e first, the key-ing-dom of God, and His righteousness. Ask and it shall be given unto you – allelu. alleluuuuia”. So why seek first the kingdom of God? Because we are human. We can not rule over ourselves. We err in sin and judgement-we are prejudice, selfish, vengeful; we worry and we are distrustful. So we need God and He wants us- He longs for us- He wants us to knock on His door. And He surprises us doesn’t He? I think this has happened to just about every driver…. you are running late in a 2 lane no passing zone and the oldest woman alive is in front of you. It’s literally driving you insane. Your hands grip the wheel a little tighter, your teeth clench a little harder- there is just no end in sight. You already have envisioned yourself fired from your job, your husband is going to divorce you, the kids are going to start doing drugs- I mean life is over! All because blue haired granny is going 15 miles under the speed limit. You’ve been there right? Please leave a reply that you have otherwise I may check myself in the looney bin!!!

But aha!!! The light- the bright North Star the wise men were seeking – no wait, it’s blue and red, it’s a cop and he’s directing people not to the manger but to the side of the road and here it comes…! Instead of why God it’s now thank You God. And that’s just how it works. The big picture comes to light. We see the North Star and are reminded that God wants us to slow down and bring Him with us in everyday moments!

So cry if we must over spilled milk. Let’s not linger in it for too long because it turns sour real quick!

Clean it up – preferably with a servants heart – but move on. The day will get better. The puzzle piece will find it’s home and the picture will be revealed.

By the way, I’ve put almond milk with vanilla on my grocery list-

just in case of emergencies!

PS: I know my grammar and punctuation are horrible and once upon a time I would have cared. Cared very deeply. Today, it’s ok. Perfectionism is totally overrated!

why knox

Why now?why not?why knox?

the sloth?

that pretty much sums me up right now: literally,physically,mentally, spiritually, and always mathematically!   Oh! and well,  the sloth is just really huggable! ☺️

The journey of life can sometimes rush by so quickly – like how did my baby become a senior in high school?! Or it can go by painfully slow- like the “what-Ever” ages from 13-16. Or it can be an amazing time- like the baby stages of babbling to talking and crawling to walking.  And that is how I am feeling now: bedridden  to wheelchair to cane to……

the possibilities are endless. The journey IS the same for all of us isn’t it? Painstaking and awesome and fast and slow all rolled up into this thing called life.

My one year mark is approaching and I’m not really sure what to call it:   My Stroke, The Day I Almost Died, The Day I Got Another Chance, The Day I Heard God’s Voice, The Day I Started Mountain Climbing.

All of those but mostly the day I opened my eyes to some most important lessons in life (literally, physically, mentally, spiritually). And that is the why…and the now.

I am trying: Trying hard, in my recovery and most importantly, trying to follow the footsteps of Jesus.  Allowing Him to carry me when I need to be, push me when I don’t wanna, and pull me when I’m being slothlike.

We all need a helping hand and it’s the sharing of your stories that I learn and grow. So I am stepping out of my comfort zone and sharing my journey and my heart: whyknox!