Inspiration and Overcoming Obstacles

(originally posted on my WordPress blog in February 2024)

My friend took me to see a really powerful movie this evening. This inspiring true story, The Boys in the Boat is my favorite kind of movie or book. (I definitely plan to read the book.) I don’t know about you, but sometimes life can take so much out of us, and it requires a lot of perseverance just to get through the day.

I’m thankful for the stories that help us overcome whatever obstacles we face. Each day, I face living in a body that doesn’t work the way it was designed to work. Lesions in the brain and spinal cord create challenges that aren’t necessarily visible but they are very real. My friend asked me what the last movie I saw in a theater was. I couldn’t remember for awhile, and that’s because it had been a few years. Jerry and I met Beth and Kurt in Independence to see The Jesus Revolution back then. I can’t just decide to go to see a movie and count on being able to drive home safely afterwards, especially later in the day. (Having multiple sclerosis has impacted my life in many ways, limiting spontaneous things like going to a movie, and it has definitely meant career changes.) So it was a treat to go see this movie with Roberta.

I know that everyone has things to overcome in life. I have so much to be thankful for despite seldom feeling all that well. I know people who are fighting for their lives against a formidable disease like cancer. I am praying for friends in this situation, and you are seen and loved. I know others struggling to pay the bills and cover the essentials of life as they raise their families. Inflation is making life really rough, and I really feel for young families as groceries, gas, utilities and housing costs skyrocket.

I know that loneliness can be as painful as anything else. Grief can hit people in waves, too, so if you’re facing a loss, or living with the ache of fractured relationships, you are seen as well. Hardships come in so many forms.

But maybe in the midst of these topsy turvy life events or challenges you still harbor a dream. You want to make your life count. You’re aware that life goes by quickly and like sand through an hour glass, you recognize that your dreams haven’t come to fruition. You’re not alone in that.

So many people say they want to travel, reach a career goal, get married, raise a family, write a book, get a dog, ride a horse, paint a picture, or make a difference in the lives of others.

However, in truth, they struggle to hold it together and get the essentials done each week. I think of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs. We need the basics covered before we can “actualize” and reach for those goals we hold dear within us.

As I get older, I am very aware of the neurological condition I live with, and how much I long to be able to do the things I see others do quite effortlessly. I’m not complaining. I’m just acknowledging our shared humanity. As I plan a trip with other family this summer, I realize my legs won’t carry me on hikes in Alaska. I hope I can get around the cruise ship sufficiently. So many things take a concerted effort for me now. I marvel when friends can stand and talk to someone for quite awhile. I can’t easily balance to do that, so this feat seems amazing.

As I watched this powerful true story of The Boys in the Boat, I enjoyed seeing these strong young men straining against the oars, synchronizing their efforts and gliding through the water so fast. These young men overcame poverty and great hardship, and they had heart. They had courage, and they didn’t give up.

One of the guys on the team got some kind of virus or something while they were at the Olympic games, and he scared the coach and team a lot. Would their team be able to compete as planned or would his illness impact all of them?

This young guy looked so weak as he sat in the boat, rowing despite having just been so ill. I empathized with him. Sometimes I feel like the weak link in our home. I don’t necessarily have the stamina to get things done that move us forward as a family. I can’t always stand long enough to cook or finish the dishes. Only it’s not a fleeting illness, it’s a disease that will accompany me to my final days on earth most likely, barring a miracle.

The ‘jockey’ or the young man at the back of the boat who yelled encouragement to the other guys saw how weak this fellow was, and he focussed his attention on this team member who hadn’t recovered fully from being so sick. The jockey found just the words and connection that would help his teammate summon the inner strength needed to row (overriding his physical weakness) in rhythm with the other crew mates, and the boat glided through the water towards the finish line in a photo finish. They won!

I had tears in my eyes as I watched much of this movie because it touched my heart. The young man sleeping in a vehicle until he made the rowing team and had a place to stay and money for tuition…the tough times faced by these young men from Washington…they were guys with hopes and dreams. They had their youth and their courage, and they reached for their dreams with every stroke of their oars.

Every day I stumble out of bed when my dog starts squeaking early in the morning (he starts squeaking first, then he begins to bark at me if I’m not fast enough). I make it down the hall and let him outside. My husband gets ready to start his work day in his home office, and I try to spend time in the Word over breakfast as I find the strength I need to navigate another day.

I am so thankful that God is with me on this journey. I find inspiration from the clients who come to my backyard cabin for coaching. I love using my counseling background in this way. People have things they want to overcome. They might be struggling with various things that hinder their ability to enjoy their lives fully. No matter what the struggle, I get tremendous joy from encouraging them. Together these brave people and I come to the Lord for His help and wisdom. I don’t have the power to heal others, though I can encourage and support them in the process. But I can accompany them to the throne of grace, where the One who can heal and transform lives awaits.

And honestly, I find in these encounters such joy. I find inspiration from watching people seek God’s help and transformation. Just like I sat at the edge of my seat today in the theater, cheering on the boys in the boat, I watch with great eagerness as people grow and heal. I love seeing people find new freedom or the peace they are longing for more than anything.

And just as I did when the movie finished and the credits were played, I slowly got up from my chair and struggled quietly to walk down a few stairs and out into the light.

As a young farm girl, I loved to run. I ran cross country and track, and I absolutely love watching the Olympics. I can remember the joy of strong muscles propelling me forward along the cross country trail through the woods. I loved playing point guard in basketball and at one time I had the dream of playing college basketball. I would shoot hoops for hours. I could only imagine what the Olympics would be like to experience. But my high school basketball and running career was cut short by what I assumed were ‘bad knees.’ I had patellofemoral pain syndrome, or knee caps that didn’t track well and roughed up the cartilage. This meant by my junior year, the three sports a year I had enjoyed were not possible, though I still rode horses at Canyonview (a local youth camp that also had a small seminary) and took New Testament Greek in the mornings before high school my senior year.

Looking back, I also had unexplained vision problems and difficulties with tingling in my feet and hands, and my left side felt different. I had other unexplained symptoms, but I was young enough that I don’t think I realized these things weren’t necessarily common.

My dream of becoming a physical therapist was one I worked extremely hard at achieving. From a young age, I felt drawn to helping people overcome the injuries or limitations that they faced. My dad had been in a very serious tractor accident on the farm when I was in first grade, so I knew how much this mattered.

The limited positions in PT school meant the competition was steep. I did get into the masters program at Pacific University, and I made it about halfway through to the point where we would be doing more clinical work, but my mobility was becoming limited and something was clearly wrong. Sadly, the director and I talked and she said to take a year out to see what was going on with my health. I felt really lost and heartbroken. I realized my identity had become wrapped up in my career goal. But God used this loss to help me learn to find my identity in Him and not in what I could do.

I never returned to PT school, and friends went on to enjoy that career, while I struggled to regain as much health as I could. I went through testing at OHSU, and doctors said it might be Multiple Sclerosis, but they couldn’t be sure.

So I fought hard to regain some strength while doing office work, and then I went to China to teach at a medical college for a couple of years. Right around the time I had to leave the graduate program in PT, I watched the young people in China demonstrating. They were searching for meaning and hope. My heart broke for them when the 1989 Tiananmen Square protests and massacre took place. I felt this compelling desire to meet these students, and though I wondered how I could possibly work in China, I couldn’t shake this desire.

God had placed this dream on my heart as PT school became physically impossible. And I had the audacity to trust Him and catch a plane for China a few years later. I absolutely loved my college students and the people in my community in China. I loved teaching full time and I had never felt more joy. I knew God had taken me there, and even when health became very hard, my students asked me, “Why do you still have joy? What gives you hope?” I answered them with great satisfaction despite poor health. My time in China was extremely fulfilling.

Eventually, working in China was more than I could physically continue doing, so I returned to the US. Again and again, God would place a dream on my heart and I would pursue it with my whole being. Until my limitations forced me to redirect my energies to something more feasible that is, and when teaching became too hard, I studied counseling. I got my Masters in Counseling (in the Rehab Counseling Program at WOU) in 2000. I absolutely loved helping people pursue healing and growth, and I still do. I’ve had some years when health hasn’t been sufficient to continue working. And it’s not easy now, but I know the strength comes from the Lord, and not from myself.

I wake up each day excited to write and work with clients as God enables me to do so. I can’t work so many hours any more, but that doesn’t keep me from living out the dream God placed on my heart many years ago. To heal with words. To share His love with others who need some encouragement.

I often feel like two things are taking place simultaneously. My physical strength and abilities continue to diminish, but my inner peace and strength, and my love for God (and for writing and helping others) continues to grow stronger.

I need the sense of purpose each day to keep going, but helping others and staying connected to the LORD gives me this sense of meaning. As I see God redeem the hardships I’ve gone through as He allows me to help others, I often smile. I cry now and then, too. But a deep abiding joy accompanies me because I see Him at work in lives and within our home.

I remember a sketch I made when I couldn’t walk much some years ago. I drew myself leaving my wheelchair behind and jumping a horse over a barrier. This symbolized so much to my weary heart. Life holds so many obstacles, but by His empowerment, I carry on. I keep trying. (I recently framed that drawing and it hangs in my backyard writer’s cabin where I also see my coaching clients.)

On that same page, I wrote, “If I never lived another day, this one was unto You.”