Thursday, August 19, 2010

I had a hole in my foot!

Let's go back to the archives....
This article was published in 2002 on www.ninetyandnine.com and can still be viewed in the archive HERE

I Had a Hole in My Foot! (Voted favorite title of the year: 2002)

By Laura Berger
August 26, 2002

I have always been the klutz. Our youth group takes it for granted that when I am around, something will always go wrong. I never once thought that God would use that for His glory. We were having a car wash to get ready for a youth convention in Bakersfield , California , when I tripped over my own feet. The one time that I actually was hurt, I did not say a word to anybody about how much pain I was really in. Like I said, this is the norm for me, so they weren't expecting anything to be wrong.

Later that night the pain started to get much, much worse. I was in tears for over an hour as my parents tried to get me to an emergency room. Since our move to Las Vegas about eight months before this, I had not done anything that would require a doctor's visit (unless the dive off the platform had something to do with twisting my ankle at the car wash, but that is another story). When we finally got to a doctor, we were not told until hours later that I would not be able to get an x-ray because of our insurance. Since my dad is a minister and he had to be in church the next day, we decided to wait until the following day. Who knows, by then I could be feeling better!

So now, for another first since the move, I would miss church. We didn't own a pair of crutches and we still did not know what was wrong, so as soon as my mother finished leading the praise singing, she hurried home to take me to another doctor - one we knew for sure would x-ray me. As I sat there nervously wondering what to expect, the words that I had heard on the way home the night before came back to me, "I can heal you, you know." Even the day before, I had a feeling that this might be something serious.

When my name finally was called, I was wheeled down the hall to an examining room, then to x-ray, and back again. My mom, my dad (who had joined us), and I heard two people talking. "I have never seen anything like this before!" and then "What do they do for that?"

“Oh, God,” I prayed, “I hope that is not about me!”

When the doctor came in, he said, “Well, it is not broken, but.....”, then he pulled out the x-ray, “there seems to be a cyst in the heel bone of your foot.” In other words, somehow I had a hole that had filled with all sorts of things from my foot. I went home that night on crutches, with pain still intact.

I did not last at school; I had to be put in a wheelchair. This is where God used me the most. I had a bike horn on my chair, and I used it constantly. I played volleyball in P.E. I gave people rides. I met new people.

Our family doctor gave me some pain medication and explained in more detail about my blasts not keeping up with each other. We didn't really understand, but I was referred to a bone doctor about one week before youth convention started. When I came back, I was scheduled to have an MRI and a bone scan to prepare me for surgery.

Now, this is the awesome part. For some reason, at youth convention I had experienced a lot more pain. I would take two pain pills just to be able to go hang out at the mall. I had a friend with me from my P.E. class at school. Her first time service had only been a couple weeks before at a Lock-In/Youth Rally.

One afternoon I just cried on one of my best friend's shoulders. "Why?" I asked. "Why did God let this happen? I can't take this anymore! I hate not being able to do anything! I cannot even do something simple! When I do, I am told that I am just faking it when all along I am hiding my pain to have pillow fights and other fun!”

Then my friend told me how God would never give me anything He knew I could not handle. My friend reminded me that this had happened for a reason and encouraged me not to give up.

That night, Wednesday, March 27, 2002 , the Rev. Jerry Jones preached a sermon entitled, “Take what ya got and do what ya can.” The choir sang the song “Shackles” (“Take the shackles off my feet so I can dance”). I was sitting in the back in the designated wheelchair spot when I felt a warm sensation go through my foot. Instantly all the pain I had been feeling that entire week was gone.

During the altar call, my friend went down to pray. As I sat in the back alone because everyone had gone to the altar, a fight raged within me. I knew she was going to be filled with the Holy Ghost. This was the first time I had ever been able to get one of my friends from school to come to church and like it. I did not want to miss out on this one! I told God that I didn't care if it killed me; I was going down there. I went down and told her that she was not there by accident and a whole bunch of other stuff that came to me at the time. Instantaneously she was beautifully filled with the Holy Ghost.

We had to go home the next day because our youth pastor was sick, and my parents told me I still had to be in a wheelchair. I soon proved to them I was healed when I remained pain-free. When I went to get an MRI and bone scan, a hole could not be found! A technician was called in because everyone thought the machine was broken! When I went back to the bone doctor, he said I did not need surgery if there was no hole, and since they did not have my x-rays that I should just make an appointment in six months.

It has only been about two months since then, but I still will sometimes get a chill when I do something simple like walk down a flight of stairs, or run away from someone in a water fight, and I have to just stop and say “Wow!” and “Thank you, Jesus!”

ninetyandnine.com

© 2002, Laura Berger

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Laura Berger is patiently waiting the three months until she is 16 in Las Vegas , Nevada . She loves it every time God uses her in a special way. She plays the flute, writes, and once in a while will get a chance to speak or sing. All of which not many people guess when meeting her.

Re: “I Had a Hole in My Foot!”

March 6, 2006

Thanks for sharing this. It was so encouraging to read. God is good! I especially like how the author gave glory to God. I know this pleases Him greatly.

Gillian Bolde, Georgia

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Anger

This picture was taken in Sept 2009. Nana and 9 month old Bentley.






It has been 3 months to the day today. You would think the pain would lessen, that it would get easier to breathe. Just when I think I am ok again, that we will get through this, and the grief comes back in waves so strong I instantly cant breathe and choke on my tears. (I never would have understood that fully before now)
And please. Dont get me wrong. In so many ways I am a better person now. I can actually feel now. But sometimes I wish I cant. I am more sensitive. I strive to be a better Mother, Wife, sister, daughter, employee, christian, prayer warrior. Not a day goes by that I dont think of her still. Not many nights go by without hard dreams to dream. Dying, falling, wishing, hoping, scaring... God help me!
Church is my refuge, songs my escape, the chair an altar.
I weep. I dont.I hold it in. I let it out.

and sometimes I get so overwhelmed at the thought of heaven. She. is. there. Dancing around God's throne. Bowing. Worshiping. Worshiping. Worshiping. Enjoying. Amazing really.

And then I think of her praying. Sometimes I can hear her still. At church I kneel to pray and I think I hear her behind me. It makes me weep. Or sometimes I hear her singing....and I cry. Oh I cry.


I have put off this post long enough. I have a lot of excuses to give you. I have been busy couponing. Again. I have a toddler. I work. But the truth is I dont want to continue my story. Why?

I want to be encouraging. This is not going to be an encouraging post. I know there arent many that read this, but I want to be encouraging to those that do.

It's really hard to admit when you are angry.
I have never experienced some of these emotions in my life. Its hard to share that.

Anger is usually associated with shame or regret.


Anger. Thats all I felt. Anger.
I wish I could say that I was thinking something beyond that. But all I felt was this intense red hot anger. She was gone. I wasn't going to get a chance to say goodbye. There were to be no more uh uhs typed out or said on the phone. No more soggy buttered toast. There wasnt to be a reunion in her room. She wasnt going to make it. And then the tears came. All the way accross country they came. Of course I didnt cry the entire time, but it seems that way. I had Bentley to distract me, and what a delight he was. And sleep to take up some time. Then I would look over and see my dad shaking, or my mom with her head bowed and start sobbing again. What people must of thought of us! Somehow I passed that stage and started thinking of what the days to come would bring. It was so hard to pack for a furneral I didnt want to got to, but I think I brought the right things.

The biggest question of all: Who on earth would do her hair? So many times I watched Nana do her hair. She used to joke- if something ever happens to me, you will have to do my hair! What a radom thought, but I would be so honored to do her hair. Even if I can help tell someone how to do it. I so would like to help out. Oh God!! I can't do that can I? Help me please if it is so! I started thinking of how she used to it. Certain parts I couldnt quite get. How did she cross the pins again? Where does that roll go? 1 hairnet or 2?

We got to New Hampshire, and discovered a dunkin donuts. This and the coolatta were a very welcome distraction. We found some joy in the fact that we went by the house I grew up in (see below- although we never had a red door), and my elementary school, and got pictures of Bentley on the front steps. That was as much as we got. On the road we started out on our 6 hour trip.


I started texting my cousin Heidi, and come to find out we were minutes from each other, but due to poor thinking, and toddlers we kept missing each other. We could not wait to see each other! Bentley was very uncomfortable at this point and decided to scream the rest of the way to Nana and Gapas. He finally made known what was the problem 15 minutes away. Ahhhh. Silence. Poor baby.

We got to the house and said hi to everyone. Bittersweet. Hi I am so glad to see you! (said while bawling your eyes out, does not make the person being hugged feel glad to be seen)
We were really glad to be there. and yes we werent all at the same time.

God has a plan.
The first thing that started happening was we all realized that everyone was there. Everyone! In a family of over 40, that does not happen easily. But every child, baby, sibling, in-law, and one unborn child made it! Thank God!

One thing became more apparent than ever. We have an incredible family. Being in Nana's house (Oh it is certainly Grampie's too, but Nana has that special touch everywhere) was extremely hard. (and as the days went on- comforting) Someone in the family would often get overwhelmed, and someone would give them a hug, which would turn into praying, which would turn into more people hugging and praying, until everyone in the house would gather in and start praying. This happened many many times leading up until the furneral. Prayer starts things.