On August 18, 2013, I suddenly felt dizzy. It had been a nice Sunday afternoon. I remember what I was wearing: a mauve colored peasant blouse and white pedal pusher pants. And I remember that the sun was shining through the dining room windows and my cats were curled up on the couch. It had been a good day, because I had spent the day in prayer. And I fasted for eight hours that day. Only eight hours. I had fasted several times before, for more than 24 hours on a few occasions, and never had a problem. This day was different.I fasted for many reasons. I felt disconnected from God and disconnected from people. I prayed an earnest prayer for God to do whatever he needed to do to help me to reconnect with him. You see about 20 years earlier I had been a devoted follower of Christ. I had even picked up my life in North Carolina and moved it to Washington, DC to be part of a church planting. I remember my faith soaring at that time, and I was an eager witness to others about Christ. But somewhere along my journey I became disillusioned through the death of my mother and failed relationships. I became a legalistic Christian and lived a life of drudgery. I eventually turned myself back over to the world and all its enticing lies about where happiness comes from.
Rising up off my knees on that beautiful sunny August day left me feeling an incredible resolve. I remember how free I felt. I remember how much lighter I felt. And that's when I decided to break my fast and eat. I simply went to the refrigerator, and that's when the dizziness hit me. The next time I opened my eyes my view of the world, my attitude towards God and people, and the things I treasured most in my life, were forever altered.
For anyone who's ever fainted, you know something is off because your world begins to shake a bit. Although I've never experienced an earthquake, I imagine the quaking I felt in my body could be likened to a tremor. Sometime later I opened my eyes. My whole body was tingling. Nothing below my shoulders moved, no matter how hard I tried. All I could see was ceiling tiles and I felt completely disoriented. Somewhere between the refrigerator and the floor I had fallen backwards, probably hit the stove handle just right to snap the C4 vertebrae in my neck.
I knew I was paralyzed. I remember thinking to myself, okay – this is how it is. I was in and out of consciousness for the next day and a half. When I was awake, I spent time praying and reciting Scriptures that I had memorized for challenging life moments. Although I never expected a life moment like this one. And please don't think I'm a spiritual giant. I was terrified, and this was all I knew to do. My coworker came the morning of the second day with the police. The door was broken down and I was found laying on the kitchen floor. Close to death.
Prior to the fall I had just returned from a vacation in Cancun a few months earlier and had kept up my tan via the tanning bed. My hair was streaked with blonde from being in the Mexican sunshine and $200 highlights at the salon. I worked out. I took walks. I had been athletic most of my life and so I was fit and muscular. I had a closet full of clothes, a bunch of new furniture because I had just moved, a new car, many friends, and a close-knit family.
I seemed to have it all together on the outside, but inside I was groaning. I felt a yearning that could not be satisfied. Unbeknownst to the world, I was at the bottom of a dark spiritual well and didn't know how to climb out. And I wouldn't ask for help. Little did I know I was getting ready to take a journey with God that would teach me how to claw out of that well, inch by inch. When I woke up in the ICU a few days later, I suddenly had a desperate need for support from friends and family and a relationship with God. Thus I began my journey of physical, spiritual, and emotional healing.
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