Category Archives: Encouragement

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We Are All in This Together

I have been overwhelmed by the love and support we have received since my seizure. I cannot begin to describe how my heart has swelled by your outpouring of words, deeds and more importantly honest love for our family. Thank you.

A little over eight years ago I had my first grand mal seizure. We were all surprised, desperate to learn, desperate to recover and convinced that we should keep my diagnosis to ourselves. That was wrong, but the reasons were all legitimate. People are afraid of epilepsy. Not too long ago people suffering from seizures were institutionalized, called unproductive citizens or presumed to be demon possessed. Can you imagine? I could be living and working alongside all of you and then after a seizure be forced to leave my family and spend the rest of my life over medicated and away from my family! Much like cancer, epilepsy does not discriminate. I could bore you with statistics proving the prevalence of epilepsy, but that is not my point.

I am almost embarrassed by your comments of support and love. I am not working to overcome anything more difficult than the things all of you overcome every single day. As a matter of fact, almost everyday I tell God I am thankful He gave me epilepsy and not some of the heart-wrenching difficulties that people I know face each day. YOU are overcomers! YOU are an inspiration! YOU are amazing! YOU teach me to see the sun through the shade. YOU teach me to persevere and get out of bed on days when I would rather pull up the covers until the kids get home. YOU teach me that it is right to be different, because we are all different. Life would be terribly boring if we were all the same. We must never be ashamed to be exactly the person God created. He formed us in His image. God is perfect. So, as far as I am concerned God created us all in the perfect image He desired.

Your love keeps me pressing on. Your love continues to restore my faith that humankind is good. Your love shows me we will get through the next 23 1/2 weeks and that we will be stronger. Your love proves that when we can’t walk, we are carried; by prayers, by actions and by unending support in ways we did not know we needed. Thank you for inspiring me by fighting your own battles. Thank you for teaching me that strength lies in being honest about who we are and by being unashamed of whatever “faults” we may think exist.

You are amazing, inspirational, determined and down right fantastic. Thank YOU for teaching me how to face fear and stomp on it with optimism. You are my heroes and I am eternally thankful for the stories you tell through the lives you live.

© Copyright Gatewood Campbell, December 2013

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Chance Encounter or God Encounter?

Coincidence? Bad luck? Good luck? Chance encounter? God encounter? Let me be clear on my opinion… it is all about God encounters.

I have been studying about encounters with God. Now, if we surveyed “Family Feud” style, and asked 100 people what a God encounter was, we would likely get at least 10 answers on the board, if not more. Through personal experience and through my own understanding of the Word, I believe luck and coincidence are actually encounters with God.

These are the most precious moments when He intervenes on our behalf. We may recognize it immediately, we may recognize it later, or we may not know it this side of Heaven. Regardless, for those that love Him, He will work all things for good. I learned this the hard way. Perhaps you will believe my own first hand accounts and not have to go through the painful process to see Him at work. Perhaps He needs you to go through the pain to see Him. Those circumstances and those questions I will probably never be able to answer. I just know that I have to put my trust in Him, that whatever will be is best, as long as I love and trust Him.

Several weeks ago I volunteered for the Book Fair at Hunter’s school. We sign up weeks before the Book Fair actually happens. I signed up for one of the time slots that covers Hunter’s time in the Book Fair. Well, of course HIS time is 8 AM. Suck it up my dear. I signed up for the 8-9:30 AM time. The week of the Book Fair, I got my reminder email about my time. Yeesh, what was I thinking? I have been struggling with some new meds that make me sleep all the time, literally ALL the time. As my Mom said “I think you had a brain fart when you signed up for 8AM”. Ay ay ay! I signed up for it so of course I was going to hold true to my commitment.

I showed up a few minutes after 8, to which I will blame my slow coffee maker. Nonetheless, I was there. Was my heart in it? Not sure. The physical me was there anyway. Hunter’s class was first, and really all he wanted me for was my money. We compromised on the books within the set amount that I had given him and before I knew it his class was leaving the library. I wanted to leave with him and go home and crawl into bed, but I was committed to another session. Ay ay ay!

The next group was 5th graders. They don’t really need help. They know the drill, so essentially all I needed to do was keep the stacks neat and tidy during all the browsing. A boy walking around by himself approached me “Ma’am, do you have this series?” He pointed to a piece of paper in his hand with a title of a book series written down. I could tell from the title it was likely this was a series that targeted children a bit younger. I had not seen the books, but I asked the book fair angels (coordinators). They did not think they had seen it. I told the little boy we didn’t have any but perhaps at the next fair we would. I asked if he wanted something else. “No ma’am, I collect this series and that is really all I wanted.” He looked a bit disappointed but continued looking. Nearly 15 minutes later as I was straightening books I found the exact series AND book the boy wanted. Even the book fair angels didn’t know it was in stock! I grabbed the book and ran circles around the library looking for the cute blonde headed boy. I showed him the book and his eyes lit up like the North Star.

“How much?” I told him it was $5. He pulled a ziplock bag out of his pocket and counted out $4. The North Star dimmed as he explained to me that he didn’t have enough money for the one book he wanted. Flashback… perhaps Mom forgot it was Book Fair day and gave him the only cash she had on hand. Been there, done that. Perhaps the child forgot to tell Mom about the Book Fair and he grabbed his own money that he had been diligently saving. Been there, seen that. Perhaps Mom didn’t work and Dad was laid off and $4 was all they could spare. Been there, except when I was there, anonymous angels stepped in and blessed us. I looked into his eyes and said “What if I give you a dollar so you can buy the book?” He looked at me in astonishment, almost as if he was saying that he was looking at a crazy woman. “Would you really give me a dollar?” I shook my head yes and told him to follow me to the register. I grabbed a dollar out of my wallet (mind you I almost never have cash now that I’m not carrying Emmer’s “pot of cash” for groceries as we called it, but of course this day I had cash). He purchased his book, wrote his name in it and joined his class just as their time at the Book Fair was ending.

This little blonde whom I don’t even know and never even knew his name… Something about me drew him to me and something about his sparkling eyes and quiet demeanor kept me drawn towards him. I kept looking for that series of books long after we had all given up on it. Today I can’t even remember the name of that book, but I’m certain that little boy is holding that book as a priceless treasure.

When his starry eyes looked at me in disbelief that I would help him buy the one thing he wanted, I knew I had not had a brain fart. I knew I had not accidentally signed up for that early time. This was not coincidence. This was a series of encounters with God that led up to this blessing. Chance, luck, coincidence? Nope. It was a much-needed God encounter for me and a blessing for both of us.

Moments like these keep my eyes open for God to move me where He wants me to be. I have been the shy face in the crowd, confused and desperate for help. I saw a face I recognized when I looked at him. In those times, people took me under their care and loved me in ways I still have yet to comprehend. My love for that child cost me 100 pennies, the joy on a boy’s face in the midst of a God encounter… priceless.

© Copyright Gatewood Campbell, November 2013

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Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained

One thing is guaranteed. I will never stop trying.

I found a couple of ways I thought I could help at church. It has taken me a long time to want to serve in church again, under the roof where I once worked. There is so much emotional trauma attached but I have found inner peace with the journey God took me on and the realization that His ways are always better. I finally came to a place where I was comfortable again. I’m also working hard to rebuild my confidence in a lot of the areas where I struggle. Rebuilding only comes when I try, and that usually means some trial and error. It’s risky, because an error could mean too much stress and lead to a seizure. In my mind, I have to always push my limits or I’m stuck in the same four walls that slowly creep in on me. It is worth the risk to try, because sometimes I win.

Today I ventured off to get some supplies for the youth ministry. Ok, first of all, NO, nothing about this involved a trip to Target so I felt completely safe. All I needed to do was go to B.J.’s and get some supplies off a list I had been given. Seemed pretty simple and straight forward to me and it seemed like the perfect kind of task to take off someone’s already overflowing plate. After all, today is Tuesday, and I still like to stay busy on Tuesdays. Yeah, I got this.

I only took two wrong turns getting there, and I still say the signage is awful, but I got there. I talk to myself when I drive. I told myself it was funny that all the old people can get in this parking lot but I couldn’t figure it out. I laughed, probably out loud. I pulled into a parking spot and saw the enormous buggies and the platform dollies. I started looking around at the people coming out and the bulging buggies and it hit me like a ton of bricks. What in the world was I doing? What planet was I on thinking I could manage getting around a store this size, dragging a dolly that would carry my family, my brother’s family and my mom, AND have a successful trip? Self chatter again, “you are here now so just go”.

I will admit that I couldn’t figure out where the stupid door was to get into the building. Again, signage people! I waited for someone to walk in so I could find my own way by following them. I surely didn’t want to run head on into the out door dragging 6′ long dolly do nothing behind me. Once I got in, I made small talk about the weather with the nice man checking for my membership card and I ventured into the concrete abyss.

I spotted the aisle that would likely have most of the things I needed and I headed that way. Suddenly I stopped and just started looking around. These aisles were long, really really long. The ceiling was high, unnecessarily high and yet it was stacked within inches of the ceiling with merchandise. I wondered who needed all this stuff. Christmas gifts, candy and ornaments were already out but thankfully there were no inflatable singing dancing moving things, because in that brief moment of overstimulation it is possible I would have had to puncture some cute Santa to eliminate some noise. As I stood there I was whisked back in time. I used to love this kind of shopping, a warehouse store, yummy goodies in bulk at discount prices! Who wouldn’t love that?! And I realized, today was the first day since early 2005 that I have walked through the doors of a store like this.

Fight or flight? I had two choices. One, leave dolly do nothing in the way of every customer and walk out (assuming I could FIND the exit), or two, fight to regain my confidence in an uncomfortable situation and stick it out. I reached in my pocket and pulled out my list. I looked around the store and I think I actually said out loud “I can do this”.

The first aisle was like hitting the jackpot. I checked off the majority of my list in one aisle. It took several runs up and down the same aisles and back and forth across the store (dragging the now heavier dolly do nothing) to mark off the rest of the list. I kept looking for someone to ask where I might find things, but I guess lower prices does mean fewer employees. I only ran into a few displays and I didn’t knock anything over so I totally see that as a success with a loaded dolly. My list was checked off, my merchandise was stacked neatly and I headed for the checkout. I had stopped several times, confused by the placement of items, confused by where to find prices and confused with the choices between items. I caught myself questioning the sensibility of this trip. Each time I shook it off, determined to prove I could overcome. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. I had already ventured and I was determined to gain.

The lines were super short, cue the Hallelujah chorus, and I pulled up and began putting the smaller items on the conveyer belt. No problem checking out, until I pulled out the money to pay and the cashier realized I was paying for the entire order with just a couple of $5 bills and the rest $1 bills. I realized a line was beginning to form behind me and people were pushing me along. I had to stand in front of a teenager and count out the money. Ugg, counting always throws me off because I forget where I am and I had to count very high. Part of me wanted to tell the guy I wasn’t a stripper using all my tip money to pay and that really this was for my church, but as the conversation played out in my head it seemed useless, though it did provide me some humor. Since I was using $1 bills I didn’t want to embarrass myself by giving him way too much so I had stacks of $20s and then some $1s. I tried to figure out how to give him enough for the bill within a dollar. Then I realized he was in training so his supervisor said she had to count it out too! Oh mercy me. I glanced behind me and saw the 4 items the customer behind me wanted to buy and I could feel her frustration on my neck as I again tried counting, now with the cashier counting each stack that I gave him, and his supervisor counting it again too. The line kept getting longer and I kept repeating and counting “$20, $40, $60, $80, now what’s the total again?” Finally I, or we, got it right and he handed me my change, just a few coins. I had counted correctly, within a dollar of the total!

As I pulled 6′ long dolly do nothing towards the exit and the friendly weather talking man who was prepared to review my purchases, I glanced back into the store. I saw the long line that had formed behind me and I saw the insanely large store. I looked at my purchases and smiled. I had done it. The man looked at my pile and said “Wow, you sure did pack things neatly into these boxes.” I grinned and winked at the old man, grabbed dolly do nothing and said “Yes, yes sir. I found everything I needed here today.”

Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Today I ventured. Today I gained.

© Copyright Gatewood Campbell, November 2013

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Anniversaries

Anniversaries… dates that we recall for some special reason. Typically I think we relate anniversaries to celebrations. Often they are attached to sad or traumatic events. Whether the occasion marks happiness or sadness I think it’s worthy of recognition.

As this week passed, the 5 month anniversary of my Grandmother’s death passed. As I look forward to the weekend our family will remember the 75th anniversary of my Grandparent’s wedding. For the last 17 years this date has passed and she could only look back to the years they spent together. This year, at long last, I find comfort and peace that on their Diamond Anniversary my dear Emmer and Weed are reunited. He has been gone for many years now, but she still talked of how she would awaken in the night and try to be quiet so she wouldn’t disturb Weed’s sleep. Then she would realize he wasn’t there. Night after night, month after month, for 17 long years, she never got used to living without her groom. This year, this special year, on their Diamond Anniversary, we can all celebrate that young love has been rediscovered.

After 5 months I still miss Emmer. I still think about her at 9:15 every morning and often reach for the phone to call and wake her up. Sometimes I replay saved voicemails so I can just hear her strong voice. I wonder who has taken her weekly Wednesday 10:30 hair appointment. In the same way that her daily routine revolved around what she was doing with me, my daily routine revolved around what I was doing with her.

Adjustments and a gracious learning curve…that is the gift I have given myself over the last 5 months. Emmer used to have a saying when anyone hit a bump in the road. “It’s not an arm or a leg so we move on” and she would sort of shrug her shoulders. I’ve repeated that to myself many times. I’ve wondered what she might say to me if she could speak to me now. You know, I think she would say the same exact thing. I haven’t lost an arm and I haven’t lost a leg (though sometimes it may have felt like it) so I must remain grateful in ALL things, for all that I DO have. I must remain grateful for the years and life that I had with Emmer. I must glean from those years all that I can and then press on. In her 97 years she said goodbye to a LOT of treasured and dear friends. I watched her weep in loss and heartache and then laugh and reminisce.

Memories have carried me through darker days and her unique sense of humor has carried me into brighter days. What’s next? It’s always the million dollar question no matter where you are in life. My life has already defied many odds. My Grandmother lived past 97, my Mother is a leukemia survivor and I live with epilepsy everyday. “It’s not an arm or a leg” and I can’t imagine that God has washed His hands of me yet.

Heartache is heartache, no matter the cause. In hindsight, I can share of so many things I learned through epilepsy and my brain injury. Everyone in my family experienced heartache during those first few years. I know that was part of God’s plan for gaining insight I would need later in my life as I became Emmer’s constant companion. When my injuries forced me to walk away from my career, I couldn’t imagine what God what do with me. I was heartbroken. He mended my broken heart and made me stronger. He has taught me great lessons in this heartache. He has been mending my brokenness and He will beckon me to His next purpose for my life.

“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.”(Ecclesiastes 3:1-8, NIV)

So as we pass through a week marked with noteworthy anniversaries, I choose to focus on the celebration of reunions, the valuable lessons of heartache and the seasons of life God sees us through.

Copyright © Gatewood Campbell, June 2013

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Purpose Centers Us

I left the working world more than five years ago. It was a complicated matter, but clearly the healthiest option for me. With both of my children in school now and a college degree under my belt, I still struggle with people asking what I do with my time. Truly, some days I am so busy from the time my family leaves the house to the time the buses start rolling down the road, I haven’t taken a bathroom break. Then some days all I do is get up, walk the dog and go back to bed. On those days I am annoyed that I’m tired all the time, but I must accept the reality of my circumstances and move forward.

I just turned 39, gasp (yes Ashley, I just openly admitted my age!) and a decade ago I would have told you I would rather spend a day deer hunting with Johnny than be a stay at home Mom. Alas, here I sit, with a snoring dog at my feet, dishwasher running, clothes in the washer and dryer, kids at school and it’s the middle of the day. I never would have pictured this…surely not the dog part! At 39, I thought I would be well established in my career, although in this economy who really is at any age right? Since life dealt me some unexpected blows (pun intended) I look to the future and wonder if I will be a career stay at home Mom.

The other significant part of my attention is focused on my grandmother. She just turned 97, and though she lives in a full time nursing facility now, she is still old school southern Georgia and she likes things just “so”. She wants her bed made with hospital corners, and she is more than happy to offer training, she wants a cloth napkin with all her meals, and she puts on her lipstick, stockings and shoes every single day even if she doesn’t leave her bedroom. She has Parkinson’s Disease, but for the most part her mind is with us. Let’s face it, mostly she is just old, slow and somewhat forgetful. When I quit work I started spending a couple of days a week with her and over the years it has evolved into a different kind of experience.

Each morning at 9:15, I call to tell her what day it is and remind her what she is doing that day. She depends on that to get her day started. Every Tuesday and Friday I spend a few hours with her. I wash her clothes and even iron her cotton t-shirts just like she likes them. I polish her finger nails and I even trim her toenails (when absolutely necessary). I do her shopping and keep her favorite chocolate candy dish full. A true southern host always has something on hand to offer any guest that stops by. You will be hard pressed to stop by her room and not be offered a Hershey’s nugget! We have a routine; we have a language and a method of communication that many would not understand.

When I think about where my life would be if I were still working, I wonder where HER life would be. For the last 34 years I have lived within 15 minutes from her. There has always been a strong bond. She drove to the hospital in the late night hours when I was in labor with Justin to be there when he was born. After Johnny and me, she was the first person to hold both of our children when they were born. She even taught Hunter how to count change when he used to go with me to her apartment to help her before he started school. She also taught him how to make beds with hospital corners! His reward was one Andes mint. It was an unfortunate day when he figured out where she hid the bag. After 90+ years, what quality of life would she be having now if I were working?

I was dashing out the door for church last night and I grabbed a Bible that I don’t frequently use. It’s a smaller Bible that doesn’t have much reference material in it. I used to carry it at work and use it during our devotions and staff meetings. Last night when I grabbed the pages to flip to Acts, my hands grasped the entire back portion of my Bible and I noticed some writing. Odd, I thought since I had very little writing in this Bible. Inside the back cover I had written “Purpose Centers Us.” Hmm, interesting…. I was intrigued. I read on….”I’ve been set in my location for a specific purpose. I’m strategically placed, not abandoned, not forgotten.” Well, I’ll be! You would think there was a God in heaven that had a plan and knew more than we do right?

Stop looking, stop wondering. Know that God set me in this location for a specific purpose and I may be fulfilling it right now and not even relishing the joy of the season. The smell of the diesel school bus fumes may be fresh breeze scents to the working mom who would love to watch her kids bounce off the school bus. Fighting the most recent meal stains in my grandmother’s shirts would be a joy to my dear friend who just had to say goodbye to her treasured grandmother.

Purpose does indeed center us. So often we just haven’t taken the time to realize what the purpose really is. Maybe you are already in your strategic location fulfilling His purpose for your life now and you just haven’t clearly identified with it. He hasn’t forgotten you. When you identify your purpose you will find more joy and happiness in fulfilling His plan.

Copyright © Gatewood Campbell, October 2012