When I meet people for the first time, I sometimes have to decide how I’m going to introduce myself. There are times that my introduction comes out like I’m in an AA meeting, except I’m not an alcoholic. Instead, introducing myself comes out as a list of diseases, diagnosis’, and sometimes things that I’ve been through become part of my introduction, by default, as if that defines who I am. Introducing myself usually sounds something like this, “Hi, my name is Lori, and about 6 years ago, I sustained a Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI) from a severely damaging domestic violence relationship. This has caused my left sided hemiparesis, my concentration issues, gastroparesis, a partially paralyzed diaphragm and pelvic floor dysfunction. Certainly, each day has it’s struggles, but I am usually very grateful to see each morning and the sunrise that God gives us.” The few sentences that I have brought a summary of “me” down to says a lot about who I am as a person. Originally, I just started blurting things out like this to avoid hearing the same questions from people such as, “How did you get a TBI, were you in a car accident?” Oh, how sometimes I want to just say yes, it was a car accident, but I do not do this, because I believe that God can make a greater good come out of anything, and I believe that I had the Holy Spirit inside of me from very early on. I believe that God works through me, even in times of great illness and pain.
I didn’t grow up within a childhood surrounded by laughter and huge fields of big sunflowers, my childhood was rather bleak, wrought with abuse, and quite void of hope. I knew there was a higher power of some sort that created us and everything in the universe, but as a child or teen, I received nearly zero religious education unless a neighbor felt pulled to bring me along to church, but this happened less times than I can count with my fingers on my good hand. I remember hiding a lot as a child, almost as far back as my first memory, but I also clearly remember, even to this day, hearing a voice from within my head but not coming from me, and this voice would calm me during particularly trying and difficult times that I was sure I was all alone and would not survive (this feeling happened so much throughout my life that I do not have enough fingers to count the times I wondered if I would survive). But there was always this voice, this presence that seemed to say, “This will pass, your life does matter, and things will be different. Someday, you will be free, be patient and strong, my child.” I clearly remember feeling these words, not just hearing them, and this was before I had a clear understanding of exactly who God and Jesus were and how powerful they may be.
I turned 18 and headed out into the world uninhibited by any fear or education on what it takes to live in the world. Breaking out of my childhood family was like seeing broad daylight after years of darkness-as wonderful as the sunshine is, it is bright, stinging and overwhelming, and you have to shield your eyes some to get through at first. It was during this period that I believe God brought people into my life to teach me, to teach me how to live, make ends meet, how to interact with people, and, most importantly, how to love. It is at this period of my life that I began to educate myself with different religions, science, and what the meaning of life meant to me. I did not come to a definite conclusion on what Christianity meant to me immediately, but it worked it’s way into my mind, because, even at age 21, I could have easily not survived that far, had it not been for those comforting words that I heard early on in the dark.
I left an extremely abusive relationship at age 31, I was in the relationship for a couple of years, and prior to that, I had always needed someone or someone was controlling how I lived and learned to some extent, even though some people had good intentions. I fled to live in a house with a roommate, but I was continually harassed and stalked for nearly a year. In November of 2009, just a few days before Thanksgiving, I was nearly beaten to death by my abuser. I saw my life flash before my eyes in moments of consciousness, and I fully believe he had an intent to kill me, but for some reason he didn’t, I was left alive. I had survived again.
After being severely beaten, and having a host of new medical, cognitive and communicating disorders, I thought that I was going to wind up back with my parents, living the rest of my life paralyzed in the dark, in more ways than one. But, God had a different plan for me. At the last minute, a good samaritan set it up for me to have my OWN apartment. My own place. It had three pieces of furniture and a mattress on the floor, which is quite difficult for a newly left sided paralyzed person, but this mattered not to me. My first hour in my new place, I praised God with joyful tears and thanked Him for the life he had given me. I was so thankful to be free. I had a heart full of hope even though, medically and in the way of material things, I was at rock bottom, I was still full. It did not take long before I, happily and full of emotion, struggled to get down on both of my knees, so I could pray and ask for forgiveness for my sins, and to declare my belief and love for Jesus, whom I believe was powerful enough to even care about and speak to me in the dark as a child.
Today, people sometimes wonder how I can smile through so much difficulty, but I teach them, either through words, actions, or just by my gratefulness, just how powerful and wonderful our savior, Jesus Christ, will forever be. I know my suffering is temporary, and that I will join Jesus in His kingdom of heaven, which is said to be more wonderful than any human understanding can comprehend. I will continue to do my humble work here on Earth, to help people, with gratefulness in my heart, and as living proof of God’s miracles.