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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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Thankful in all Circumstances

One thing I have learned is to expect the unexpected and just go with it. There is no point in wasting good energy on asking why. That question is not likely to be answered. My responsibility is to recognize the multitude of blessings we have and remain thankful, regardless of circumstances.

One week ago I was shopping in Midtown Charlotte. I had eaten a healthy lunch and wandered around the fun shops. Like all responsible citizens I used the pedestrian walkway to cross the street. I had safely crossed the right turn only lane and was waiting for the “walk” signal as I stood on the pedestrian median to cross four lanes of traffic. I don’t know if the “walk” light ever turned. I don’t know if I stepped into traffic. I DO know that God was with me.  I woke up some time later in the ER and I did NOT like having to wait on a gurney at the nurse’s station in the ER. Those that know me up close and personal might imagine that I had expressed my opinion. A busy nurse heard my plea to be moved and told me I had to stay there because I had a seizure and was being observed. My head throbbed, but something inside me giggled. Really, seriously? Right before Christmas? This is so inconvenient. I remember staring at the ceiling as if looking into God’s eyes and saying “Got it, slow down.”

As I lay there, watching people far sicker than me, be wheeled up and down the hallway for various tests while their family members sobbed, I knew I was blessed. I knew the ramifications of the seizure would be 6 months without being able to drive a car (and apparently tractors according to my doctor). I also knew that I was alive. No driving for 6 months was a very small price to pay and I felt blessed that I would walk out of the ER on my own two legs. Hours before, I was at the intersection of 5 roads, I was alone, I had blacked out during a grand mal seizure and I was still alive. Tell me God doesn’t perform miracles and I will show you an example that proves He does. Johnny arrived quickly and in the calm way he has come to deal with difficult news about his wife, he assured me I would be fine. I wanted him to call my best friend. He did and she came right away. I wanted to talk to my brother but Johnny insisted I wait to call him. Another thing I have learned is that if family is long distance you call after the storm has passed, not in the midst of the storm. I remember being overwhelmed with how fortunate I was among so much sorrow.  I also remember telling Johnny not to touch anything or we would end up catching the flu. Delirium is a funny thing. As I slowly recall different things about that day I laugh, I cry and I thank God that He was with me.

The lingering soreness of a seizure of that magnitude is pretty much gone now. I would love for someone to explain how I stretched my shoes though! No worries, someone will take me to the store to get inserts to fix that. I have 2 staples in my head to patch up some of the cuts on my head. Guess what? I am thankful for that. Recently I spent some time at the cancer center where people much younger than me, covered their hairless heads in scarves. I walked away with a new perspective in its’ rawest form. I am thankful my hair covers the scars. Thankful in all circumstances; that is indeed where I am.

I am alive. I am thankful for breath. I am thankful for no broken bones. I am not asking why. I am accepting God put me here. In a strangely awkward way I am thankful my Grandmother did not have to live through this.  It would just be so hard for her.  I am left with the life lessons she gave me. She prepared me for times such as these. She taught me to accept whatever comes my way and find a way to make the best of it. I’m a marathoner and I don’t think it is just a coincidence that 6 months is also 26 weeks and a marathon is 26 miles.  I am thankful for the opportunity to face 26 weeks and see how God shows Himself as the mighty conqueror over the next 26 weeks. I am prepared to bust through “the wall” with a force of family and friends that will break down all barriers.

I am blessed in ways I can not explain. I am thankful in ways I can not begin to explain. I am not asking God “why now” or “why me”? Instead I just want God to show me how to use this time to point others to Him. My cup overflows with thanks, in all circumstances.

© Copyright Gatewood Campbell, December 2013

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Returning Thanks

I have been enjoying reading thankful posts from my friends during November. Each day I have thought of something for which I am grateful. November is Epilepsy Awareness Month and our family has been busy participating and I have not slowed down enough to write down so many things for which I am thankful. So here goes…

Blessed with Much, Thankful for Much and Eternally Molded by Much.
This Thanksgiving I am thankful for
The promise of eternity in heaven with my Lord and Savior;
our warm home;
food to eat;
clothing for my family;
my husband, my children and all the ways they generously love me;
my mother, my grandmother and the combination of the two that I have become;
my brother and my sister in law that love me in all the right moments;
my mother and father in law who love without ceasing, in word and in deed;
mercy and grace from God and those close to me;
friends that love me without judgement;
my Mother’s friends that love me as their own;
teachers that understand boys;
The Pines staff that loved my Emmer as their own;
Montreat, all that she was, is, will be and all those that come along with her;
the beach that teaches me to release my burdens with the tide;
driving by myself;
the ability to run and the ability to pay it forward;
the ability to understand the misunderstood;
the color purple and all who proudly wear it;
the power of fearless sharing;
kind words and smiles from strangers;
random acts of kindness;
patience from a sales clerk;
family traditions;
making new memories;
and a concussion that changed our lives forever.

© Copyright Gatewood Campbell, November 2013

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Walking on Two Again

For the last 25 years I have been a three legged woman. I have walked with my Grandmother and my Mom. I resemble them, in looks, in speech and in manner. All of it makes Johnny tremble, with a bit of fear and a lot of laughter. That is the way we do it. We laugh and we press on.

Thanksgiving is a week away. The Workman clan won’t be at the corner window table devouring delectable dishes from The Pines this Thanksgiving. We are plunging into muddy waters that are unknown and feel a bit frigid. This is uncomfortable. Crazy indeed, but I miss the anxiety created by Holidays. My Grandmother always pretended the Holidays made her more nervous than joyful, but I know the truth.  She loved each Holiday and awaiting the arrival (yes I was always late and Mom was always early) of our family and watching the boys devour an embarrassing amount of food from the buffet. She loved watching the choices my children made and she encouraged them to treat themselves to two desserts on Holidays. The grits were always their favorite; I think it was the heavy cream. She ate like a bird so she could take in every moment of those memorable meals.

For so many years Mom, Emmer and I were the three legged human. Sometimes I think we were more like a kangaroo where two feet did the work while one was carried in the pouch. We took turns being the Mother of us all. Though I will say my Grandfather coined the phrase “mother of us all” when referencing me in his genealogy some 30 years ago. Brilliant man!

There is no pouch anymore. There are two legs now and we have to walk.  Emmer taught us well. She trained us well.  I trust she delights in her own humor and spirit that Mom and I display. I am not walking alone. We demonstrate the sincerity, the determination and the (sometimes brutal) honesty that my Grandmother taught us both. This Thanksgiving I will walk on two legs, sometimes one of mine and one of Mom’s and sometimes just my own. Regardless they bare the weight of life lessons that make me the person I am today.

I miss her deeply. In the end, I am grateful, for Emmer, that she has finally found her resting place. I will forever treasure my years of loving her, laughing with her, crying with her and learning from her. Enjoy your Thanksgiving at home Emmer. We love you and we miss you. Above all, this Thanksgiving, I am thankful for you.

© Copyright Gatewood Campbell, November 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