My Story
My story is pretty simple... until about the age of 18. I grew up in a loving, christian home. I wanted to be like my mom and marry someone like my dad. Life was great. I went to ballet classes, did my school work... and went to more ballet classes. People told me I was a good dancer and I hoped they were right. I loved it... that's all I wanted to do. I knew I wanted to go to a school where I could major in dance, but that's about as far as that dream went before it was snatched away in a moment. At the age of 17 my back just snapped as I was leaning over the sink, washing my hair. I was in a great deal of pain, but I remember chuckling to myself as I waddled to my bed and laid down with dripping wet hair and shampoo cascading down my face. The spasms stopped after a few agonizing moments... and I didn't know it then, but that was the beginning of the end for me. The end of endless ballet classes. The end of being praised for my extensions and technique. The end of life being 'great'. The end of myself. Looking back... it was the end of my own plans for my life, but the beginning of God's plan for me. (If I were to indulge myself at this moment, I might sing a lengthy version of 'JESUS TAKE THE WHEEL'... but I'll refrain).
I had always believed in God and considered myself a christian, but didn't know God deeply and personally. I remember thinking that 'I didn't want to go to hell'... but I didn't really want to go to heaven either, at least not for a very long time. Life was great... heaven seemed boring. I believed in God and thought I was going to heaven, but I was fine with it being a vague and distant concept. I remember thinking, "Other people seem to have such great testimonies of things they've been through"... and I wondered if my faith was even real, since I didn't have a story at all. I remember asking God to 'give me a story'... and He did.
After my first 'back episode', I continued to dance and live a normal life. But throughout my normal daily activities my back only got worse. After seeing many doctors and physical therapists over the coarse of the next year, I grew weary of endless therapy sessions with no lasting benefits... and eventually became weary of either fighting through the pain of dance classes or having to 'sit out' every time my back would spasm . I cynically and begrudgingly gave up my dreams of pursuing ballet. I was given the opportunity to travel and teach dance in Israel and Russia throughout the next two years, which was a dream come true, but eventually traveling became too rough on my back... and I gave that up as well.
I grew very hostile towards God and cynical towards the things I thought I believed in. God is Sovereign... so maybe he wants me to be in pain? I know God has the power to heal... but I guess I just don't have enough faith? I was confused. I remember thinking "This is supposed to be the best time of my life... and I'm miserable... AND it's only getting worse."
Somewhere over the coarse of the next few years... a new doctor discovered the 'cracks' in 2 of my vertebrae (spondylothesis) and tears on 2 of my discs. We tried conservative methods of treatment... P.T., several cortizone epidural injections and even a very painful(experimental) treatment to try to repair the tears in my discs. Nothing helped. With each try... and with each failure... I sunk deeper into apathy and depression.
Now, don't get me wrong, I have many wonderful memories throughout these rough years. Many friendships... wonderful times spent with my family... I even began teaching ballet during this time, which was unbelievably fulfilling. But overall, these years of my life were spent in depression, isolation and insomnia to name a few of the things I was battling.
I was so lonely. I didn't go to the movies with friends because sitting for more than 30 minutes was excruciating. I didn't go on trips or activities with the singles from my church because I knew it would take me days to recover. I withdrew from the things and people that I loved most. I wanted to sleep away as much of the painful days that I could. I grew addicted to the pain medication that I was on ...and was put on antidepressants to counteract the side effects of the pain meds. When the meds weren't enough to dull the pain... I eventually turned to alcohol. Suicidal thoughts plagued my mind. I remember hearing that my great-grandfather died in his sleep, at a young age, most likely from combining alcohol with some medication he was on at the time. I never actually tried to kill myself, but I remember thinking that 'that would be a peaceful way to go' and I was o.k. if that's what happened. I grasped for any sort of control in my life as I battled bits of anorexia and eventually began cutting myself out of anger and frustration.
At the age of 24 I decided to go ahead and have the back surgery that I had been putting off. This was definitely my 'rock bottom'. Besides trying to recover from a major surgery... I was also broken hearted from a major break up. My back was not getting better, I was full of rage and unforgiveness towards David (the man I would eventually marry, but that's a story for another time). I took as many pills as I could get away with and I kept a bottle of vodka in my closet to help ease my emotions and sleeplessness. I kept things pretty together on the outside, but I felt like I was dying on the inside.
Most people in my life would've never known what was going on with me. I still went to church, taught ballet, spent time with my siblings and even occasionally travelled around the country to see friends. I am so grateful for these 'sparks of hope' throughout those years... I really believe they kept me from disconnecting altogether and drifting further into addiction and self injury. I didn't realize it at the time... but God had me right where I needed to be... DESPERATE. Life was no longer 'great'. This world was a bitter disappointment and I found myself longing for relief. I began randomly picking up books about heaven. I longed to be in a place with no suffering. A place where all tears would be wiped away. I would spend hours trying to imagine what 'no pain' felt like. It was during this time that God started to become real to me. I remember cursing at him... a lot at first. How could a loving God allow so much pain and suffering in the world He created? I began talking to God... well, more like wrestling with God. I think I believed the things that I was taught growing up... but I wanted to KNOW God, not just know about him. I read the Psalms and the book of Lamentations... and I could relate to the desperate cries. I longed for God to be just as real to me. As I look back, I'm grateful that I didn't turn my back on the truth that I learned during my early years, just because I didn't feel it at the time. I could've gone down a much more difficult and heartbreaking road had I completely turned my back on these things.
I'm still not exactly sure when it happened, but I was transformed. From a person who was angry at God, to a person that began to trust Him. From a distant bystander to a loving follower. From a cynic to a believer. I don't remember the exact date I became a christian... only that I am one now.
My story continues. My first back surgery didn't help and within a year I went through a second spinal fusion. I have experienced times of brief relief from my back pain (throughout the last 14 years now) and other times where the pain is overwhelming. David and I were reconciled and we have been married almost five years and have two beautiful children. The Lord took someone that I hated and has turned him into one of my Life's greatest blessings. The Lord has used the pain that I've been through and has turned it into a way to empathize and grieve with those who are hurting. I still pray for physical healing, but it's not the most important thing to me.
I have struggled with anger most of my adult life, but I honestly can't remember the last time I hurled anything across the room at my husband (more of that story later). I still battle depression, apathy and cynicism... but I'm no longer consumed by them. I am still in a great deal of pain on a daily basis, but no longer addicted to or even taking pain medication. I still want to cut myself out of pain or frustration, but rarely give in. I am being sculpted to look more like Christ, which means all the parts that don't look like him are being whittled away... and that's painful, but pain with a purpose. I am grateful for the joys and blessings of this life... but I am aware that this earth is not my home... and I will spend eternity the place my soul longs for.
I had always believed in God and considered myself a christian, but didn't know God deeply and personally. I remember thinking that 'I didn't want to go to hell'... but I didn't really want to go to heaven either, at least not for a very long time. Life was great... heaven seemed boring. I believed in God and thought I was going to heaven, but I was fine with it being a vague and distant concept. I remember thinking, "Other people seem to have such great testimonies of things they've been through"... and I wondered if my faith was even real, since I didn't have a story at all. I remember asking God to 'give me a story'... and He did.
After my first 'back episode', I continued to dance and live a normal life. But throughout my normal daily activities my back only got worse. After seeing many doctors and physical therapists over the coarse of the next year, I grew weary of endless therapy sessions with no lasting benefits... and eventually became weary of either fighting through the pain of dance classes or having to 'sit out' every time my back would spasm . I cynically and begrudgingly gave up my dreams of pursuing ballet. I was given the opportunity to travel and teach dance in Israel and Russia throughout the next two years, which was a dream come true, but eventually traveling became too rough on my back... and I gave that up as well.
I grew very hostile towards God and cynical towards the things I thought I believed in. God is Sovereign... so maybe he wants me to be in pain? I know God has the power to heal... but I guess I just don't have enough faith? I was confused. I remember thinking "This is supposed to be the best time of my life... and I'm miserable... AND it's only getting worse."
Somewhere over the coarse of the next few years... a new doctor discovered the 'cracks' in 2 of my vertebrae (spondylothesis) and tears on 2 of my discs. We tried conservative methods of treatment... P.T., several cortizone epidural injections and even a very painful(experimental) treatment to try to repair the tears in my discs. Nothing helped. With each try... and with each failure... I sunk deeper into apathy and depression.
Now, don't get me wrong, I have many wonderful memories throughout these rough years. Many friendships... wonderful times spent with my family... I even began teaching ballet during this time, which was unbelievably fulfilling. But overall, these years of my life were spent in depression, isolation and insomnia to name a few of the things I was battling.
I was so lonely. I didn't go to the movies with friends because sitting for more than 30 minutes was excruciating. I didn't go on trips or activities with the singles from my church because I knew it would take me days to recover. I withdrew from the things and people that I loved most. I wanted to sleep away as much of the painful days that I could. I grew addicted to the pain medication that I was on ...and was put on antidepressants to counteract the side effects of the pain meds. When the meds weren't enough to dull the pain... I eventually turned to alcohol. Suicidal thoughts plagued my mind. I remember hearing that my great-grandfather died in his sleep, at a young age, most likely from combining alcohol with some medication he was on at the time. I never actually tried to kill myself, but I remember thinking that 'that would be a peaceful way to go' and I was o.k. if that's what happened. I grasped for any sort of control in my life as I battled bits of anorexia and eventually began cutting myself out of anger and frustration.
At the age of 24 I decided to go ahead and have the back surgery that I had been putting off. This was definitely my 'rock bottom'. Besides trying to recover from a major surgery... I was also broken hearted from a major break up. My back was not getting better, I was full of rage and unforgiveness towards David (the man I would eventually marry, but that's a story for another time). I took as many pills as I could get away with and I kept a bottle of vodka in my closet to help ease my emotions and sleeplessness. I kept things pretty together on the outside, but I felt like I was dying on the inside.
Most people in my life would've never known what was going on with me. I still went to church, taught ballet, spent time with my siblings and even occasionally travelled around the country to see friends. I am so grateful for these 'sparks of hope' throughout those years... I really believe they kept me from disconnecting altogether and drifting further into addiction and self injury. I didn't realize it at the time... but God had me right where I needed to be... DESPERATE. Life was no longer 'great'. This world was a bitter disappointment and I found myself longing for relief. I began randomly picking up books about heaven. I longed to be in a place with no suffering. A place where all tears would be wiped away. I would spend hours trying to imagine what 'no pain' felt like. It was during this time that God started to become real to me. I remember cursing at him... a lot at first. How could a loving God allow so much pain and suffering in the world He created? I began talking to God... well, more like wrestling with God. I think I believed the things that I was taught growing up... but I wanted to KNOW God, not just know about him. I read the Psalms and the book of Lamentations... and I could relate to the desperate cries. I longed for God to be just as real to me. As I look back, I'm grateful that I didn't turn my back on the truth that I learned during my early years, just because I didn't feel it at the time. I could've gone down a much more difficult and heartbreaking road had I completely turned my back on these things.
I'm still not exactly sure when it happened, but I was transformed. From a person who was angry at God, to a person that began to trust Him. From a distant bystander to a loving follower. From a cynic to a believer. I don't remember the exact date I became a christian... only that I am one now.
My story continues. My first back surgery didn't help and within a year I went through a second spinal fusion. I have experienced times of brief relief from my back pain (throughout the last 14 years now) and other times where the pain is overwhelming. David and I were reconciled and we have been married almost five years and have two beautiful children. The Lord took someone that I hated and has turned him into one of my Life's greatest blessings. The Lord has used the pain that I've been through and has turned it into a way to empathize and grieve with those who are hurting. I still pray for physical healing, but it's not the most important thing to me.
I have struggled with anger most of my adult life, but I honestly can't remember the last time I hurled anything across the room at my husband (more of that story later). I still battle depression, apathy and cynicism... but I'm no longer consumed by them. I am still in a great deal of pain on a daily basis, but no longer addicted to or even taking pain medication. I still want to cut myself out of pain or frustration, but rarely give in. I am being sculpted to look more like Christ, which means all the parts that don't look like him are being whittled away... and that's painful, but pain with a purpose. I am grateful for the joys and blessings of this life... but I am aware that this earth is not my home... and I will spend eternity the place my soul longs for.
