January 19th, 2021

Wednesday, March 11th, 2020:  I gathered at my friend's house for small group.  We laughed, prayed, and studied God's Word together.  We laughed about the coronavirus.  We joked that this week of a full moon, time change, and Friday the 13th was the worst week ever.  We made plans for the rest of March and April for social gatherings and service projects.  Why wouldn't we?

Sunday, March 15th:  I went to church like normal.  Only very few people were there.  I looked over my shoulder every single time someone coughed.  At the end, the pastor said "See you sometime soon" instead of "See you next week" and my stomach turned in disbelief.  That afternoon, my world plunged into darkness.  Schools shut down, churches closed, restaurants closed.  Fear gripped me and the whole state.  I didn't know when I would see my friends again.

We started wearing masks all day, every day at work that following week.  The hospital was chaos.  Contingency plans were made that I thank God up to this point we haven't had to use.  But it still felt like an endless descent into a terrible new world.  It still does.

Weary.  Lonely.  These past 9 months have been a blur.  A weary, lonely blur with a few encouraging bright spots along the way.  I often think back to that last Wednesday we met together for small group.  It feels like a dream.  That world no longer exists.  That girl sitting there laughing so carefreely - she no longer exists.  I have mourned over and over those days and the dreams I had for 2020.  

Sunday, December 20th:  Today - a thrill of hope.  I got my email invitation from the CDC, and I will receive my first of 2 Covid vaccines on Tuesday.  

Tuesday, January 19th, 2021:  10 months after this nightmare began in my small part of the world, I will have maximum immunity from my vaccine and booster. 

I remember when churches closed, when large gatherings stopped, I kept saying "when this is all over and these halls are filled again, I'm going to give everyone the biggest hugs and never take gathering for granted again!"  I imagined it would be a huge celebration in the streets like the end of WWII.  Just as quickly as the world shut down stadiums, concert halls, restaurants, theatres, churches - all would swing their doors open wide and welcome the masses again.  As this pandemic has dragged on and on, I have realized that will not be the case.  As vaccines roll out and spring time begins to blossom, it will be a very slow shift to a new world.  This new world may resemble the pre-2020 world in some ways, but scars from the past year will run deep, and I am afraid we will never be the same.  While I realize that in some ways, that's good - there are some things we needed to leave behind in 2019.  But I will still mourn the loss of the dreams around that coffee table back in March, of what might have been.  I will mourn the loss of patients and with families and friends who have lost loved ones.  I will mourn the loss of time with my own friends and family.  

But I do welcome this slow shift back to a world where I can strike out bare faced into a grocery store without caring.  I celebrate this feat of human ingenuity and collaboration and genuinely pray that carries over into the post-Covid world.  Post-Covid.  That brings tears to my eyes.  It's coming.  And if you know me and I see you, you are warned - big hugs are coming your way!!!

Addendum 12/21/2020:  As I pulled into work this morning, I had a text - "They are taking walk ins today if you want to get your vaccine."  So a group of us went and got the shot.  Before I had a chance to be nervous, I had it.  I realized as I went back upstairs to start my day, there was something different.  Hope, excitement, comradery seemed to fill the halls for the first time since March.  I found myself still anxious but also giddy.  Today was a good day.  I crawl into bed tonight with a sore arm, but with hope for more good days ahead.  

Into Closed Places

I went to college in Colorado in pursuit of horses and vet school.  God had other things in store for me.  I had abandoned the idea of being a vet, but I had no idea what was next.  I knew I wanted to do something that was useful internationally for missions.  I wanted to do something that could get me into places otherwise closed to the gospel.  In God's perfect providence, I just so happened to end up helping a friend move while his parents were in town.  They are medical missionaries in Kenya who also take the gospel into closed countries.  I will never forget his mom's face as she said "We need physical therapists more than we need doctors!"  My fate was sealed.  

I never meant to be a physical therapist.  I had no intention of seeking to advance my career as a physical therapist.  I wanted and still want to be an obedient disciple of Christ - that's it.  So I went to PT school with every intention of pursuing this call to missions, to serve the least of these and share the love of Christ with the nations.  The vision has not played out like I planned.  My first longer term mission trip felt like a disaster.  And everything after that has been a painful cluster.  God provides though.  These twists and turns led me to being full time at a trauma hospital shortly before the world first heard the term "coronavirus."  I would be jobless right now had it not been for those seemingly cruel twists and turns.  My department is the only rehab department we are aware of in the entire state that has made it through without making cuts or furloughing people.  God sees and provides and protects His children.

Then there was the day, what I hope will be the worst day of my career.  The day they kicked all the visitors out of the hospital and no longer allowed anyone inside except patients and staff because of Covid19.  I do not feel I have words to describe the pain and fear that filled those hallways.  The family members who had been by their daughter's side after a horrific car crash, by their beloved wife's side night and day as she received a grim cancer diagnosis and all the work up and treatment that followed, by their special needs brother's side as they tried to figure out the best place for him to live after discharge.  By their dad, husband, sister, mom, brother, aunt, uncle, son, daughter, and friends as they experienced the worst day of their lives.  Now these people were left alone in dark rooms to suffer and face impossible situations and decisions completely alone.  As an employee, my heart broke and my job changed overnight.  I spent hours on the phone with families and coordinating with case managers.  I made sure all of my patients knew how to get in touch with their families and friends.  And I spent a few extra minutes where needed to just be a friend and listen to the stories and concerns, and tried to meet any need within my power, even if it wasn't "my job".  Somehow it never seemed to be enough.  I was overwhelmed and took it to the feet of Jesus who promises to take our burdens.

He reminded me of my prayer in college - to do something that would take me into closed places.  I had not thought of that in years.  The hospital in my home city was now a closed place.  Never in a million years would I have imagined that vision to be fulfilled in this country, in my own hometown.  Never.

I believe with all my heart that God has orchestrated all the events in all of time to point to Jesus and His Kingdom come and then invites us to play a part in His story to bring the nations to the foot of His throne.  He showed me that when I was a senior in high school and invites us all to be a part of this tapestry He is designing, which was a huge part of my surrendering of my life to Christ.  My life, the events of my life, are a microscopic part of His grand plan.  And He sees and care about all the details of my life and your life.  As I stood outside, I realized God had orchestrated the past 12+ years of my life to lead to this moment and answered my prayer from so many years ago.  My whole life up until this point had led me to here with great purpose.  A hush came over my soul.  But then the weight of that really hit me.  Was I enough?  Was what I was doing inside those walls enough?  

I was encouraged at that time by someone speaking Zephaniah 3:17 over me.  God delights in us.

I trudged forward, one day at a time.  In The Hiding Place, Corrie ten Boom describes the horrors of life in a German concentration camp, where she and her sister Betsie strove to live out Jesus' calling and love in the face of unspeakable evil both with their fellow prisoners as well as their captors.  She describes the paradox of being "more than conquerors" even while being poor, hated, and hungry.  "Life in Ravensbruck took place on two separate levels, mutually impossible.  One, the observable, external life, grew every day more horrible.  The other, the life we lived with God, grew daily better, truth upon truth, glory upon glory."  This idea that we live for an unshakable Kingdom, that we are called to lean into faith and hope into things we cannot feel, despite the world pressing in on us.  In a very small way, this is what the hospital felt like.  On the surface, there was the utter brokenness of sickness and trauma now with the backdrop of a global pandemic.  But I saw God moving inside those walls more than ever.  Yes, that is my reality - "In all these things (referring to being killed in the previous verse), we are more than conquerors through him who loved us."

One week ago, they started allowing visitors back in the hospital.  I literally wept the first time I walked past a room and heard the now unfamiliar sound of familial chatter.  I teared up the first time I entered one of my own patient's rooms and found not only them but their spouse.  Not only is there the joy of the visitors being there - honestly, most days I think it was harder for the people outside the building than the patients inside.  But there's the feeling that this is somehow the beginning of the end of this pandemic.  The beginning of things being at least a little bit more normal and not quite so life altering.  

But I found a familiar question haunting me.  Was it enough?  Did I do enough?

The short answer is No.  Absolutely not.  I am not enough in and of myself.  My best works are filthy rags compared to God.  I'm sure I failed miserably and missed many opportunities, even though I tried to be sensitive and obedient to the Holy Spirit.

But if I take my eyes off of myself and fix them on Jesus and being His vessel wherever He places me now, trusting and believing that He is piecing things together for my good and His glory, then I can more easily cast aside everything that hinders and rest and run.  Rest in who God is and my identity in Him.  But then run the race marked out for me, being obedient and accomplishing the works prepared beforehand, not so I can boast, but so the name of Jesus will be known among the hospital halls, my community, the nations.

Potential missed opportunities after over 12 years of preparation for this moment still breaks my heart, but feeling guilty about it won't fix it, won't atone for it.  Christ's finished work on the cross covers my sins, all of them from before I accepted Him as well as since.  So should I be complacent and continue in sin and despair?  As in Romans, may it never be!  If I truly understand the work of Jesus, I must fix my eyes on Jesus and continue forward.  If I fix my eyes on Him, what He's done for me each and every day, abide in Him and His Word, then fruit will overflow from that relationship.  And when that happens - wow, it feels so right!  My soul sings "this is what I was made for!" in spite of all external circumstances.  Lord Jesus, let it be, even as we draw closer to the end of this dreadful season, may it be!

Rock climbing, tequila, and coronavirus

Just 3 weeks ago.  My life was pretty "normal."  I had a routine and knew what to expect day in and day out.  I was excited for many events in the coming months.  After several years of feeling isolated and lacking community back home in Lexington, I finally felt like I had found fellowship within my church family and was looking forward to that continuing to grow.  My sister is getting married this summer.  I've bought a house and am slowly working towards having it delivered hopefully around the end of April.

Insert coronavirus.  What was somewhat of a joke for weeks suddenly has reared its ugly head and changed everything we know about day to day life across the world.

The first few days I was in shock.  Waves of anxiety and fear came and went as I cried out to God and experienced prayer without ceasing on a whole 'nother level.  I would wake up in a panic attack feeling like a dark cloud had descended over me.  The nausea would abate as I drove to the hospital but would come and go throughout the day as I dealt with panic in coworkers and the systems around me.  I went to meetings about disaster plans I prayed fervently we never have to use.  I felt like I was barely hanging on.  The only thing that kept me going into work was knowing my patients were having the worst day of their lives, and none of their loved ones could be there with them.  I had to be the hands and feet of Jesus for them.  Perhaps I was placed here for such a time as this.

In the midst of this, God reminded me of an experience, a vision from several years ago.  I was on a trip to Colorado.  One of my friends asked if I wanted to go rock climbing.  I've only been outdoor rock climbing a few times, so I leapt at the opportunity.  I was the first up on the rock face and was feeling pretty confident until about half way up.  I could not find my next step, my next hold.  Everything looked sheer.  My friend yelled up for me to look just above my left foot and see if I could step up to this spot she saw on the rock so I could grab a larger hold with my hand further up in order to stay on the rock and keep moving.  I looked at the "spot" she was referring to.  It was more of a slightly rough place in a vertical slab of rock.  She had to be crazy; there was no way this was going to work!  But I had a rope and a belayer I trusted, so I gave it a try.  I didn't really have any other better ideas.  I trusted the micro hold with my left foot and made it to my next hold and ultimately made it to the top of the route.

After I came down, we laughed about that tiny hold and talked about how God does that.  He asks us to trust a really small hold in order to move forward in our faith in seemingly impossible situations.  It seemed like a neat little anecdote, experiential learning piece at the time.

But God reminded me of it as I faced the unknown world last week.  For the first 3 days of this lock down, I wrote Isaiah 41:10 on my wrist.  That was my hold.  "Fear not, for I am with you.  Be not dismayed, for I am your God.  I will strengthen you.  I will help you.  I will uphold you with my righteous right hand."  Every single time I put on or took off gloves and washed my hands (which is a lot), I recited those words.  Since then I've tried to purposely choose a "hold" each day.  A simple truth about God to help me keep focused and moving forward amidst the chaos that surrounds me.

One day it was lyrics from a song:
I will not fear for You are with me
I've seen this fight from the victory
No power of hell could stand against me
'Cause I've seen this from the victory,
I've walked around the hospital and up and down stair wells praying that song.

Last Friday, my hold was God as a Provider, Jehovah Jireh, and Philippians 4:19 - And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus.

As we were going from place to place treating patients around the hospital, we noticed the hand sanitizer smelled different.  In fact, it smelled VERY strongly of tequila, like I was washing my hands in a marguerita… without the fruit.  There were rumors of a "bourbon" and a "rum" hand sanitizer on other floors.  Word quickly got around and our boss ended up sending us a text.  Apparently, due to shortages, our refill hand sanitizer was being made in the pharmacy and in local distilleries, so yes, it did smell like tequila and bourbon!  Jehovah Jireh indeed!  And it came with a good laugh, which we all needed.

In the end, I know beyond a doubt that God can and will work all things for the good of those who love him.  I know that what was intended for harm, God meant for good.  I can't see that part of this story yet, so I'll just keep grabbing on to the micro holds until I get to the vista, clinging to what I know is true of God's character, praising and thanking Him along the way.

Called to Life

This has been my facebook information for a while... just want to store it some other place to remember.


Yea, sometimes ... sometimes I want to spend hours talking with girlfriends about silly things, to have my hair and clothes look cute and stylish all the time and have the latest whatever, to go out on dates, to have horses and event and show every weekend, to be comfortable and safe, to see the world...

BUT I want other things more, *all the time* my heart leaps at the thought of them - to be spiritually and emotionally filled every day. I want to be loved and cuddled by a hundred children, "neck hugged" by hundreds more patients, shoulders wet with tears, knees worn from prayer and to never go a day without laughing. I want to wake up to a rooster's crow and open my eyes to lush green trees that seem to pulse with life against a piercing blue sky in [place TBD].

I want to be challenged endlessly. I want to be taught by those I teach, and I want to share God's love with people who might not otherwise know it.

I want to work so hard that end every day filthy and too tired to move.
I want to make some kind of a difference, no matter how small, and I want to follow the calling God has placed on my heart no matter the cost.
I want to give my life away, to serve the Lord with each breath no matter what others think or expect.
At the end of the day, no matter how hard, I want not the American dream, but to serve among the least of these... the orphans, the broken, and the tired, to seek justice for those who cannot speak for themselves wherever God calls me, both here and abroad.
*Called to life, not to comfort*
(Adapted from the back cover of Kisses from Katie, missionary to Uganda)

For those moments where my soul sings:  This, *this* is what you were made for.

Blanca

This was my physical therapy clinic last week.

Unfortunately, it also doubled as an ICU/step down unit for a majority of the week.  When we got to clinic on Tuesday, there was a lady lying on a bench outside.  She was clearly very sick and in distress.  Our team leader is an ER doctor in the US and immediately jumped into action.  Blanca was her name, and they found out she was septic, likely from a kidney infection.  She needed IV fluids and antibiotics ASAP.  They brought her into my room because it was the only area available that had a mat and space to set up the IV.  She had been sick for 5 days.  She had travelled to a medical clinic of some sort, but they had told her she had a virus and sent her home to drink fluids.

Rewind 2 days.  We're unloading our equipment and supplies to set up our clinic for the week in Guitierez Nortes.  Dr. Ries finds out that we don't have any IV fluids.  In my 3 previous years, I have never seen a team use any IV fluids, but they always use it as a scare tactic to make sure everyone drinks enough water - "if you get too dehydrated, the youngest member of the team starts your IV line" sort of thing.  So they do keep some on hand, just in case one of us gringos forgets to drink water.  So Dr. Ries asks Rolando, our Nicaraguan GHO contact, if we can get some.  Rolando travelled back to Managua on Monday and brought back several bottles of IV fluids.  We found Blanca on Tuesday morning.  Her blood sugar was all out of whack as well.  One of the doctors on the team, who is a urologist, randomly put a bunch of insulin syringes in his supply kit for this trip - not something he typically uses, but something that was vital for treating Blanca this week.  I serve a God who sees and a God who provides.

I continued to treat outside my room (PT al fresco, my favorite!) or just inside the door.  Since I was there, I kept an eye on Blanca and made sure everything was going okay.  I'd go grab the doctor when she had completed one medicine or one bag.  By the end of Tuesday, she looked a lot better and was able to walk out of the clinic.  They asked her to come back each morning for more fluids and meds.  Wednesday, she looked great.  I helped her get from the bed to the chair to sit up a bit (acute care PT in Nicaragua - who would have thought!).  Dr. Ries told her the story of the IV bags and encouraged her that God had saved her and had a plan for her life.  He also encouraged her to tell people what God had done.  She walked out of my clinic on Wednesday afternoon before I had a chance to see her or say goodbye for the day.  About 20-30mins after she had gone, I wondered out loud to my translator how Blanca was doing.  He told me she was just outside still - she was standing and talking to all the women who had kind of collected outside of the clinic and was telling them the story of what God had done!  I was amazed not only that she was telling the story, but that she had the strength to stand and talk for that long! 

So Thursday came.  Blanca didn't look as well.  She was nauseous and really warm.  I couldn't find Dr. Ries, but found our medical director, Dr. Fryman who came in and switched up her meds.  She still looked rough.  One of our nursing students took her temperature, and it was over 100deg.  They told her she could go to the hospital in Managua (over 2 hours away) or come back Friday morning and see how she did overnight.  Apparently, sometimes septic patients can have a fever that goes up again before it goes down.  She decided to rest that night and come back to see us Friday morning.

Blanca came back Friday, and she looked beautiful!  All of her vitals were completely normal.  Her labs we could draw were good.  God saved her.

One of my co-workers asked me if I'd seen any interesting PT cases or people while in Nicaragua.  I could only think of Blanca.  She wasn't even my patient, technically, but I watched God perform a miracle in her life, so she will always be the most memorable story from this trip.

Ungrounded

Hi friends,

I have struggled to write this letter for the past few weeks as it's hard to explain where my heart is with missions, but I would like to ask for prayer.  I leave for a short term medical mission project to Nicaragua tomorrow, Saturday, March 3rd and will be there through the 11th.  I am going with the Christian Medical and Dental Association's Global Health Outreach, a group I travelled with three times in PT school.

In 2014, I took the next step towards hopefully being a career missionary PT by going to serve at a mission hospital in Kenya for a month.  This trip was very difficult and turned many of my ideas about missions and dreams upside down.  The past 4 years, I have struggled with missions, especially short term missions, as I fear they can do more harm than good.  That door, like most other doors in my life at the time, all seemed to close.  That part of my heart just seemed to go dark.

As I read through my previous post, I guess it started last summer.  A little stirring at church.  While other doors remained closed, glimpses of hope started coming from the missions corner and old passions started re-kindling, but I was so hesitant of what to do with that.  Afterall, it had all disintegrated so quickly in Kenya.

Last fall, I looked into possible trips with GHO and MEI, both missions divisions of the Christian Medical and Dental Association (CMDA).  But that's where it stopped - just a few emails and no decision or release to really go.

Before Christmas, I drove through the snow to meet one of my best friends for some Christmas shopping.  She's a PTA, a Christian, and former co-worker, but has told me on several occasions she preferred staying here - missions was not her thing (I'm pretty sure I recall saying that exact same thing prior to being asked on my first Czech mission trip...dangerous words :) ).  One of the first things she told me was that she was going to Nicaragua to a medical clinic on a mission trip in March with her church.  We spent the rest of the weekend talking about Nicaragua and reading through her prep materials.  I drove the 2.5 hours home, still thinking about Nicaragua.  When I got home, I checked my phone as I got out of the car.  I had a message from Dr. Ries asking if I was up for his trip to Nicaragua in March - he still didn't have a PT and would love to have me.

I signed up the next day.

I have had reservations about the trip, but I feel like God opened the door and kicked me through it, much like He did for Czech in college, so here I go.  In these last few days of prep, I have been excited.  I trust this organization to work with local groups and people, so our impact echoes past our time there.  My biggest prayer is that I will love these Nicaraguan people well, seek to understand and come along side them, NOT sweep in as the American who can save the day.  While I also have many personal prayers regarding my life and direction once I return, I don't want that to distract me from being present there and Christ shining through me. 

I write all of this to ask you to come alongside me in prayer this next week while I am in Nicaragua.  I'll keep you posted as I am able next week, but likely we'll catch up once I return.

Not where I meant to be

Facebook reminded me today that 5 years ago I posted the comment:
"I never meant to be a [physical therapist] ... Thankfully, God's plans do not seem to be affected much by my own."
This was shortly after beginning my career as a physical therapist, and while it really was not the path I intended to be on, I never could have predicted the winding road ahead of me even in that moment.  Perhaps because this time of year tends to be one of transition for me, I find myself reflecting on where I've been.

Ten years ago this month, I went to Czech for the first time with my church in college.  We went to help with English Camps put on by the church there to build relationships and ultimately spread the gospel to one of the spiritually darkest places in Europe.  Prior to this, I had no inkling of a call to missions abroad.  This trip, just a few weeks shy of my 21st birthday, changed the course of my life.  In the next year, I officially switched to physical therapy with intentions of serving in medical missions in some capacity in the future.

In July 2012, I had been to Czech 3 times for English Camp and Nicaragua 3 times on short term medical mission projects.  I took a job with plans to gain experience here before looking at more long term opportunities.

In July 2014, I quit that job and went to Kenya to serve at a medical mission hospital for a month.  Once again, I had every intention of this just being a stepping stone to longer term maybe even career missions.  After all, that calling, that dream was what got me through the toughest moments of physical therapy school.

Kenya, however, was not what I expected.  I came back questioning everything I had come to believe about missions and wondering if there was a place for me overseas.  After lots and lots of processing and reading, I have come to 3 conclusions about overseas missions - 1)  We must be careful to do no harm - spread the gospel, the love of Jesus, not "Americanism";  2)  Missions done "correctly" is extremely difficult, far from glorious - it is a slow grind way down in the trenches with people you are called to love with the very present risk of them spitting in your face every single day;  and 3) I do not feel I can go at it alone.

So I came back to the US.  When I left for Kenya, I thought I would come back and start planning the next trip, make the next leap towards career medical missions and perhaps throw in some youth or wilderness ministry internationally as well.  Instead, I was in limbo.  I didn't plan for this.  I didn't plan to be here.

So here I am three years later and still feel very much in limbo.  I have worked 2 travel positions, one very short and ill-fated full time position, and now I have 3 jobs - 1 in pediatrics, 2 in acute care (all PRN).  I have dabbled in training for hippotherapy, but I find myself a little trigger shy (is that a term?) on all fronts.  At the beginning of this year, the pieces seemed to be falling into place.  God seem to be providing outlets for me - backpacking ministry at my church, hippotherapy conference, horses, jobs.  Only to have backpacking ministry stripped away yet again - I think that makes 3 times now, so I'm done on that front.

And I can't say Kenya was a total loss.  Pediatric PT, acute care PT, and hippotherapy were all things I was either exposed to or was discussed there that wanted to pursue when I got home.   And I love my three days of pediatric PT each week.  As stressful as it is some days, I truly feel like that is where I am supposed to be for now.  Yes, the commute is rough, but God has blessed my time there, so on I will trudge.  I pray I can love those children and families how Jesus would have me to each day.

As far as all of the other pieces, well, they are still floating around on their helium balloons.  Recently, I have felt my heart strangely stirred when missions or missionaries come up in church.  Even this morning, a couple was commissioned to southeast Asia and I had this fleeting thought that it could be me one day again, maybe.  But also this morning, we finished our series in Ruth.  God uses Naomi's darkest moment - the moment she never intended or planned to be in - when she clung to the tiniest thread of faith to change the course of history for Israel and the entire planet for the rest of time.  It is amazing when we can look back and see our subtle beginnings, our blind wanderings turn into a beautiful piece of a great tapestry God is weaving.  We get glimpses every now and then, but I think for the most part, we'll have to wait until the other side of eternity to see.

So, I still don't really have any answers.  Maybe I didn't have answers really 10 years ago, 5 years ago, or 3 years ago.  People ask when my next adventure or big trip is.  I don't know, and right now, I don't feel free to go.