In 1983, when my mom found out she was pregnant, the decision to keep the baby or not was not an easy one.  A close relative was the first to suggest she abort and move on with her life, and my mom's boyfriend said he'd go along with whatever she decided.  She was a 19-year-old, pro-choice, unwed college student working at a fast-food restaurant  ... and she was a woman with a strong heart.

 

She decided to keep the baby, and she married my dad.  My parents had no idea I would be born with any disability, and, due to the rarity of the defect, the doctors had no idea what they were dealing with.  I had "stork bites" (blood vessels close to the surface) on my face, and those, combined with the disfigurement of my arms, caused the doctors to give my young parents the grim diagnosis:  I was blind, mentally challenged, I would never walk or be independent.  And the list went on.

 

I was ultimately diagnosed with Arthrogryposis Multiplex Congenita (AMC) and my parents were told I could lead a relatively normal life.  My parents did their best to treat me like any other child.  I wrote with my feet, learned to ride a bike without training wheels, attended a regular private Christian school, and learned to adapt to my surroundings quickly.

 

I always had a small circle of friends, but I was very shy and afraid of rejection.   In junior high, my self-esteem plummeted.  I struggled with depression and thoughts of suicide.  From the outside, I looked like a happy-go-lucky sweet little church girl, but on the inside, I was a mess.  I know none of my readers can relate.

 

High school was a time of just 'hanging on.'  I didn't fit in.  My physical limitations kept me from doing my hair the cool way and wearing the cool clothes.  I was a band geek.  I felt like an outcast but I knew if I could make it out of high school, I could fit in among other outcasts like me in college - and that's pretty much what happened.

 

In college, my self confidence increased but my behavior and morals decreased.  Under the influence of my new friends, I began compromising the beliefs I had cherished since childhood.  Again, I'm sure that none of my readers can relate.

 

I was beginning to come out of this wilder phase of my life when I fell in love with a wonderful man.  Adam knew about my previous wildness, and my devout faith previous to that.  He knew every dirty little secret I could think to tell him, yet his love for me was unshakable.  (In that way especially, my husband shows me a great example of my Father's love and acceptance.)   A year and a half after we met at Dairy Queen, Adam and I married on a beach in the Dominican Republic.

 

When I became pregnant, Adam and I were not worried about how I would manage. Adam isn't the type to worry about me in that way, and I was confident that I would figure things out.  However, when others started asking questions, I started to fear that I might have created a life that I was incapable of sustaining.

 

After Ethan was born I realized  my fears were unfounded.  God had already provided me with the creativity to work around most things, and a wonderful husband to help me with the few things I couldn't do on my own.

 

When Ethan was eight months old, I saw that CNN.com was looking for videos of families coping with disabilities.  My first thought was, 'my story is pretty interesting.  I could upload a video.'  But then my insecurity immediately told me I was nuts.  I've spent my whole life trying to show people that I'm NOT disabled.  I purposely wore long-sleeved T-shirts to certain events so people wouldn't notice my arms.  I would wait until a grocery aisle was cleared of people before I grabbed something down with my foot to avoid stares (actually, I still do this).

 

After some thought I finally decided my arms are my arms, whether I like them or not.  Hiding them is just ridiculous.  They're not going away.  If my story can encourage somebody, then I'm going to tell it, even if it makes me uncomfortable.  So I made a video and uploaded it and the next thing I knew a CNN producer was calling - and then this ...

 

 

I've hardly achieved any spectacular accomplishments to speak of.  But ... I've learned to let go and I've learned self acceptance.

 

We all have things about ourselves we would like to hide - things we are ashamed of and would rather pretend aren't there.

 

In my blatant disregard for my insecurity, I found that the very ugliness I hated so much literally contained God's purpose for me.  I was happy to let Him use my writing or musical talents for His glory, but it took a long time for me to surrender my weakness to Him.  It turns out that is where His power works best!

 

We say God loves us, and we tell others that God loves them - but do we really believe it?  Do you believe that God's love is bigger than even the ugliest flaw - be it character, physical, etc.?

 

If we keep things from Him, He can neither heal them nor use them to heal others.  So take some time to search your heart and be honest with yourself about what you find there.  And then, be honest with your loving Heavenly Father.  Give Him your weakness and see what His power can do.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

God is not wasteful.  Even our most painful experiences are often used as integral parts of His plan for us.  Imagine what redemption could feel like if you surrendered even your most painful, shameful flaws and hurts to Him.  Imagine those hurts bringing healing to others and becoming sources of joy rather than pain.  God is in the recycling business.  What beauty could He make from your ashes?

 

Chickens will literally peck each other to death when they detect a wound.  Jesus sets the ultimate example of what God can do through us when we make ourselves vulnerable.  We see Jesus on the cross, naked and dying - as vulnerable as it gets.  And in that act of vulnerability is our salvation.  But how can we follow Christ in vulnerability and openness if we fear being "pecked" to death by the people around us?  This talk boils down to (a) what God can do with a vulnerable heart, and (b) how we can create a culture where vulnerability is not so scary.

 

We all have things that come along in life which would define us, but does it have to be that way?  Must we live under the label life has given us?  Failure.  Addict.  Cripple.  Abused.  These things may happen to us, but you and I choose who we will be.  This talk will make you question how you see yourself, how you see others, and will inspire you to be the person you can be, despite what life may tell you.

 

Though the wind may be strong and against a little sailboat, a skilled sailor can still get where she needs to be.  If she is aware of what things she can change (her sails), and what things she can't (the wind), nothing can hold her back.  When forces larger than us threaten to push us backwards, can we adjust our attitudes and allow even adversity to pull us forward?  Attendees will be asked to consider what is really holding them back.  They often find that the situation itself is not the true obstacle, but rather their apporach is what binds them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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