Pain that Interferes with Everyday Life

I haven't had a day without pain in so long that I can't remember it... My guess being at least a decade, probably more. 

Since I was young, I was very sensitive. You probably thought when you saw the word "sensitive," you thought I meant emotionally. 

Actually, you were right. I was incredibly sensitive emotionally. But what I'm talking about here is that I was sensitive to sound, texture, temperature - and, the reason for this post, pain. 

However, it's difficult for me to express that I'm hurting. When I do tell others that I'm in pain, it's always accompanied by an apology (because my pain causes limitations that cause problems with being able to "go and do" as I'd like and usually my pain is also limiting the person I'm with.) 

To the best of my memory, I was told or it was implied from what was said, that I needed to get over any pain I had, with sickness being an exception.

I don't know how much that attitude in my family caused this issue or if it was a societal thing (probably both), but it was earlier this week that I correlated the two aspects. 

This week has also been much worse on the pain scale. But what's weird and frustrating is that it comes and goes. My overall pain (due to fibromyalgia) as well as localized pain in my right ankle, right shoulder, both wrists and leg pain (all due to either surgeries or injuries) haven't abated. 

So as much as a person can be, I'm used to the pain I just mentioned. 

What I'm not used to is the back pain I'm now having. Understand that I have backaches a lot.

I'm overweight, tend to slump too much, and don't have much core strength. Pain in my back, especially my lower back, is inevitable. 

But this is different - and another frustrating aspect is that it comes and goes. In fact, I had to go to my primary doctor a few days ago about something completely unrelated. I planned to also mention my back pain and see what they recommended as a starting point. 

However, that day my back felt fine. Grrrrrrr. 

Today that's not the case. Today every step causes a sharp, shooting pain - and sitting isn't a lot better. 

The ironic thing is that not long after all this started, my insurance company offered a special program for those with back pain. For various reasons, I kept putting off trying it. 

Then, one day about 2 weeks ago, I took the plunge. 

The first session was simply to get baseline measurements of range of motion, etc. I did fine afterward and was excited about the next session. 

My schedule got in the way for doing it on their timeline, which was about 3 times a week. I got in another session 4 days later. 

Mistake! 

The back pain I had already been dealing with got much worse. I hoped that time and rest would help it heal so I could work on the program again. 

This past Wednesday, when I went to my primary care doctor, I thought my plan was working since it was feeling so much better. 

As it seems to happen, believe it or not, Thursday it started getting worse again. I could kick myself that I didn't tell the doctor at that appointment. 

So... it's a few weeks later. I'm about to head out of town for an insanely fun and big-name shoot... shooting the Fan Weekend and the K-Love Awards' Red Carpet event. I don't get to shoot the actual awards show but will get to be in the press room to be part of interviewing the various award winners.

I'm terrified of how I'll make it this weekend. Surely I'll figure out something.

Quick update a week later. At almost the last minute I remembered something I could try - a steroid shot. My doctor was amazing and got me in before I left to go out of town. It truly made a difference during the weekend.

It's worn off now and I'm back (no pun intended) to where I was when I wrote this. But at least I made it through that weekend. Somehow, I know I can make it through upcoming events (even if it means another steroid shot!)

Cussing vs the Anger Behind It - What's Actually Sin?

If you read my posts regularly, you know that I question everything and usually think outside of the box. This is a trait I've had as long as I can remember. 

This has led to many pet peeves and soapbox issues. 

One is about cussing. 

(Get ready... I'm now stepping on my soapbox and it will include some of the words I'm writing about.)

I believe that it's the attitude, not the word, that's important. "Bad words" are a product of society, not something that is inherently wrong. 

And I get SO TIRED of Christians apologizing when they cuss or judging others when they do. 

Maybe I missed the verse in the Bible that says, "Thou shalt not say shit, damn, or fuck or I won't love you and you won't be mine." 

I feel there's nothing different between saying "crap" when you stub your toe and saying "shit" after the same action. After all, don't they essentially mean the same thing?

And how can you generalize certain words in a language? What if an American Christian says "bloody hell?" Do you automatically think they need to repent? If you were in Britain, you might.

I do personally draw the line with including God or Jesus in cussing - or if you make it personal to someone else.

For example: "Damn you to hell" or simply "damn you" or even worse, "God damn" directed towards a person is not the same as only saying "damn." 

Yelling "Jesus" when a car jumps in front of you (unless you are just yelling an incredibly short prayer for help and safety), is not the same as yelling it when you are mad that your spouse didn't wash the dishes.

I'm not a Bible scholar but I have a feeling those would be instances of "taking the Lord's name in vain." Other random cuss words don't qualify under that commandment.

One more thing before I stop. I want to share one realization I recently made about this idea that upsets me more than what I've already talked about.

Christians who worry so much about hearing cuss words actually separate themselves from non-Christians.

I guess if you believe that it's wrong to go into a bar because there's drinking alcohol happening there or into a casino because people are gambling, then this argument will make no sense.

But if you believe that we are actually supposed to model what Jesus said and did, remember that He regularly hung out with "sinners" - those who do the things that Christians tend to judge the most harshly. There is nothing in me that believes that He would stay out of a bar or casino if  He thought someone there needed Him.

So, being "holier-than-thou" and not associating with people who cuss or saying that someone must not be a Christian because they cuss (and just who do you think you are to judge what has gone on in someone else's heart?!!!) keeps people from wanting to come to Christ.

Now, if you feel a personal conviction not to cuss, then don't. 

But, at the same time, don't tell others to stop if they cuss. For some, cussing is part of everyday language in their family, in their world. IT DOES NOT mean they are less of a person, less of a Christian.

If you believe John 3:16 - For God so loved THE WORLD..." then get off your high horse and start caring more about who a person is and what a person needs and not what they do.

(Getting off my soap-box now. Have a great rest of your day.)

No Longer Afraid, Part 3b: The Amazing Things that Happened After the "Years from Hell"

So that I won't bore you with another long story, I'm just going to list as many of the things that I have experienced and learned during the time after "the incident." (not necessarily in chronological order or order of importance... I'm just writing as I remember them.)

Note: If you didn't read Part 3a of this series, go back and find it first.

- After deciding to become a "none" (someone who has completely given up on organized religion), God led me to a church where I'm accepted as I am, and where I can practice sign as I am part of a deaf ministry within a hearing church - best of both worlds!

- Learned a LOT of patience through living with my parents and after about 5 years of doing so out of need and obligation, I recognized that I wanted to live with them, even if I had the finances to move out.

- My daughter and I lived near the Smoky Mountains and the second house we looked at here had a few of the hills (small mountains?) out of what would be her window. There was also a porch roof that she could go out on from her room to sit and think.

- Because of leaving Tennessee, my daughter didn't get to spend her senior year at her high school - and her beloved color guard. As a "guard mom," I was also sad about that chapter of her life being over. We knew that any colleges she could go to would have an extremely strenuous color guard program - and due to health reasons, we were sure that wouldn't be possible. She ended up going to a small, private college, with a tiny color guard who worried more about fun than about perfect routines. That was the last year they had a color guard - and it gave her one more year to do it before saying goodbye.

- Since I was a teenager, I've loved photography. In fact, I thought about doing that for a living for a while. But I was scared. I simply wasn't brave enough to take that kind of chance with my financial future. However, when I had to move back in with my parents, they encouraged me to try. It's another miracle and you can read it here: https://www.spotlightonstigma.com/2023/02/my-your-voice-editorial.html 

Because of this happening, I have photographed The World Games, Darci Lynne, pro-IndyCar racing, semi-pro G-league basketball, pro motorcycle racing, semi-pro AFL soccer, semi-pro AAA baseball, Winter Jam, TobyMac, college gymnastics, fancy galas, 5K races, Arangetrams (Indian dance recitals), several local dance schools' recitals, concerts, ventriloquists, comedians... the list goes on and on. I've won awards for my photography and was the featured photographer for a while for a local magazine.

In fact, I wrote the beginning part of this post while waiting for a semi-pro basketball game to start - and I'm going to photograph it. I'm finishing this post during the first quarter of a USFL professional football game, up in the writers' room. I'm planning to photograph it starting at halftime. 

This upcoming weekend my husband and I are shooting Nascar at Talladega, which is a really difficult event to get credentials. The weekend after that will be our 3rd time shooting Indycar at Barber here in Birmingham. Then in May, we'll be shooting MotoAmerica, a high-level motorcycle race weekend and later in the summer, we'll shoot Indycar again at Mid-Ohio, Travis' favorite track.

Memorial Day weekend, we've been asked to shoot KLove Fan Awards Red Carpet before the awards then we'll be in their media room during the show.

This stuff continues to blow me away.

- I started reading at 2 years old. I have no idea how early it was, but writing at least one book has been one of those dreams that was so far-fetched, I could barely dream it. 

Well, the book hasn't happened... yet. But I've had somewhere between 150-200 articles published in various magazines and newspapers. I won a national award - beating out many who had trained and/or gone to school for journalism and had done it for years.

I have interviewed world-class athletes, popular comedians, many Christian performers, authors (including Francine Rivers - one of my absolute favorite authors), big-time movie producers and directors, social media influencers, and many, many "regular people" who were doing amazing things.

- I have worked with two amazing therapists and have progressed so much more than I have ever could have imagined. The second one does EMDR, which is a way to reprocess traumatic memories. I have finally been able to get past some of the horrible memories that I have experienced with her help.

- The endless mystery of my health (mental and physical) has had some small parts solved. I have gotten some new diagnoses that explain a lot of my symptoms. Even though I haven't found any cures, it still helps to know what's wrong.

- I also have realized I'm an addict. I'm thankful that this area has a wonderful 12-Step program for my particular addiction and I have learned much, much more than simply how to stay "sober." 

- I've gotten to help my parents and I've probably literally saved my mom's life more than once, as sometimes my dad isn't doing that well and can't always help her when there's a crisis. 

- Becoming fluent in sign language has been another dream I've had since I was a child - probably 8 or 9 years old. In my 40s, I gave up that dream as I've tried and tried to take classes or learn on my own and because I had no one to practice with, I never got that far.

After I started dating my then-boyfriend, now-husband, Travis, I found out he had started classes a couple of years before we met. Not only have a found free classes locally, but I have also found a group of very dear, deaf friends. I have gone to a deaf church for about 3 years now and, even though I'm not close to what I would consider fluent, I'm definitely further along than earlier. 

I feel that with another year of learning and I'll be able to hold a conversation without issue. Another year after that and I'm hoping to become a licensed ASL interpreter.

- Best of all, after a divorce I thought would never happen to me, raising a daughter by myself, and being single for about 20 years, I met and married Travis, an amazing man who, without question, is better than I could have ever imagined.

There are a lot of other things that have happened because of one of the worst times of my life, but I want to get this published. As I sit here, looking out over the Protective Stadium from the top floor of  Protective Stadium, I'm just so blown away there is no good way to describe it. 

From those days I was afraid to go outside or answer the phone because of who I might run into to being able to do all this... I'm just really thankful. 

Telling Your Whole Story in Spite of its Stigma

I'm sitting at a retreat and just finished listening to an amazing speaker who has a very long story of recovery from addiction. One aspect of his workshop was about helping others by sharing your own story of addiction.

So here is mine.

Man, I don't know where to start..........

And - that was as far as I got. That hesitancy about not knowing how to start continued, then the idea got buried. The retreat was in October 2022 and I'm just now getting back to finishing it in March 2023.

If you read my "No Longer Afraid" posts, you'll have much more context on why I'm suddenly brave enough to share this part of my story. However, reading them isn't necessary for this post.

Here I go...

Yeah, I can do this...

Maybe I'm still a little nervous about it...

Here I really go...

It's only four little words - Tracy, you can do this!

Okay... I'm a sex addict.

There, I said it.

Of all of the addictions, I feel that sex addiction is the one connected with the most stigma. Think about it - a man can get up in front of a large congregation in a conservative church and say he was sober from alcohol or drugs and he'll get applause and support.

Not so with sex addiction. I've been "sober" for almost 5 years now and I would never imagine being able to share it with a big group. (Great... those could be famous last words, as I can see God taking them and then leading me to share this part of my story with a big group. Only time will tell.)

I do want to clarify before you start thinking the worst... I was addicted to pornography. It never got to the point of acting out (as we sex addicts call it) with another person or doing something illegal. 

One disclaimer - though I don't believe that porn is morally right, I'm not saying that those who watch porn are necessarily sex addicts. It's just like there are plenty of people who drink who aren't alcoholics. It's the compulsion to do the activity in spite of consequences that defines being an addict.

But the thing about addiction is that it's a slippery slope and once you start that slide, it's almost impossible to stop. Many of those in my 12-Step group started with porn and it led to worse and worse things. Some have even spent years in prison for what they ended up doing.

The thing is, I love those people in my group, even the ones who have done some really horrible things. They messed up and every single one of us who attend have had consequences, some major. 

All of us became different once we worked the 12-Step program and continued attending meetings. We don't judge each other for what we've done (since we rarely share specifics, any person attending could have done some really bad stuff). We all know that even if we didn't get that far within our addiction, it could have easily happened to us.

 

No Longer Afraid, Part 3a: The Amazing Things that Happened After the "Years from Hell"

So that I won't bore you with another long story, I'm just going to list as many of the things that I have experienced and learned during the time after "the incident." (not necessarily in chronological order or order of importance... I'm just writing as I remember them.)

But before I get going with the list, I have to highlight the most unlikely and incredible event:

On the way home from our honeymoon, Travis and I stopped at a rest stop in the northern part of Alabama. As I walked into the building, I saw a dad talking to his son about Fahrenheit vs Celcius while looking at a thermometer on the porch. This wasn't anything amazing, except that the son was a teenager and had Down Syndrome. 

I remember thinking - boy, that kid must have some great parents and have had some amazing teachers. (Not that I don't believe those with Down Syndrome can't learn - in fact, I feel totally the opposite - but because of stigmas and fewer opportunities than others, many can't reach their personal potential.)

It was a passing thought and I quickly went inside the building to the restroom so we could get back on the road. 

As I walked in, I saw a woman who looked familiar. In fact, we each did a double-take. But I'm HORRIBLE with faces and I assumed she simply looked like someone I knew. 

I mean, what are the chances of running into someone I actually know at a rest stop in northern AL? I've lived in the Birmingham area and the Knoxville area, so if I was in one of those places, it would be a definite possibility, but a random rest stop?

I kept trying to place the face with a name while, um, actually using the restroom, and couldn't come up with anything.

Imagine my surprise when I walked out to see all three standing together... and at that moment it hit me.

This was the student who I advocated for, taking the side of the parents and against what my school system proposed - the student who I was told that I couldn't talk to the parents outside of class (I snuck them notes) - the student who was much smarter than the school system would give him credit for.

The student who my school system wanted to put in a CDC class (one for students who have a really, really hard time learning) instead of getting special help in order for him to be in regular classes.

(Excuse me while I take a minute to bask in this amazing memory...)

    Looking back, I feel this was the major situation that led to my being micromanaged, stressed further in an already stressful job, and eventually losing my career.

    So, in a way, it was because I believed in this student so much that led to so much heartache, pain, and loss - but then became the best thing that ever could have happened to me.

(Back to the story...)

I couldn't pick my jaw up off the floor. I stood there, staring, wondering if I was dreaming. I could barely form words.

My new husband, Travis, stepped in and worded for me. The mom (I'm keeping their names anonymous) told me how he was doing. 

HE WAS IN REGULAR CLASSES! 

He had lots of modifications, of course, but if I hadn't gone to bat for him, his life could literally be completely different. He could have been put in that CDC class and wouldn't have even been exposed to the vast majority of information typical students get. 

Even though he's smart, he would have gotten further and further behind as the years went on and would have probably graduated with a special education diploma instead of a regular one.

Don't get me wrong, I am not saying that those things are bad. There are many students for whom that is a wonderful plan. But not for this little guy. I knew he had more in him.

Even with everything that happened with "the incident" (and I still don't know how much they know of the entire story), this mom had reached out to me a few times through the years to ask about how to handle certain situations. Those boosts helped me tamp down the shame I felt about what happened and it seems they helped her keep advocating for him.

She told me she is still tired of fighting, but she's done really well getting him the services he needed to get him to this point. As he ages, he'll probably need more and more support and may not be in regular classes at all by the end of high school (I doubt it, but it's possible) but my school system had wanted to give up on him in KINDERGARTEN. 

I'm so proud of her and his dad.

I'm not bragging, but I'm also so proud of the fact that I pushed the school system to give him what he needed instead of what they wanted to give and that I continued to encourage her to advocate for him.

My life is wonderful now (not perfect, mind you, in fact far from it) but you know what? 

Even if it wasn't wonderful, it would have been so worth it anyway. He was worth it. That family was worth it.

And God used it all.

It's amazing.

When the Progress You've Made Isn't Enough (Coping with Panic Attacks)

I've made a lot of progress through all of the years of counseling, self-help information, addiction support groups, EMDR, and other activities that contribute to healing. 

And I've made a lot of progress. Really I have. 

However... 

There have been two instances in the past few weeks that showed that I still have a loooooonnnnng way to go. 

When I woke up for church a couple of weeks ago, I wasn't feeling well. I almost didn't go. 

It was one of those times my determination (stubbornness?) was an asset, I guess. I had missed a lot lately due to work and other issues so I got ready and left. 

On the way, I started having a panic attack. It's been a while since I've had one and I knew I couldn't handle Sunday School the way I was feeling. 

I called my husband who was driving his car (due to somewhere he had to go right after church) and explained my thoughts about a way to cope.

My plan was to go to a local Dollar Tree and shop for about the next 45 minutes (I've fallen in love with DT!) and then I felt I should be okay to attend church after the distraction. 

It worked... To a point. 

I did calm down. I even laughed some. And as a bonus, I got some shopping done! 

I just knew I'd be okay. I was ready to handle church. 

It didn't work out that way. 

I don't know what triggered me, but something did. 

After only a few minutes, I knew I couldn't stay in church. It's a deaf church and it's true that they are more visual than many who are hearing. There would be no way I could fake it through the service. 

I fled before I completely lost it. 

Ironically, the closest place for me to head was my Sunday School classroom. 

It was only a few steps away, but by the time I got there, I started hyperventilating. My husband had followed me out and knew what to do - talk to me about mundane things to distract me from my labored breathing. 

I expected that... But what I didn't expect is that others would follow me out. Everyone was worried about me and several actually tried to find me. 

One man, the deaf ministry's worship leader, really engaged with me. I couldn't believe it, but before church was out that day, I was literally laughing out loud. 

Like I mentioned before, it had been a while - months? years?? - since my last panic attack. Once I made it through that one and remembered that I hadn't been sleeping and had a lot of caffeine which I had figured out were my main causes (but had forgotten at this point). 

I really didn't expect to have another one so soon. I know that I pushed it too much last night, shooting Winter Jam 2023 (my first time to shoot like I used to since the rotator cuff surgery). I shot about 1500 frames from angles all over the floor of the arena. 

I did stop early, once I realized what I was doing. But by then it was too late. 

By the time I got home, my arm was killing me. I couldn't sleep, even after taking multiple meds. I finally got up and took a bath and fell asleep for a short time in the tub.

I went back to bed for a while and slept another hour or two. It wasn't enough. 

On the positive side, I was able to walk and move my arm when I woke up. I really thought I'd be out for days while I let it heal. 

Instead, I was able to move, but the mental effects from the lack of sleep caused a repeat of two weeks ago. I'm at a women's retreat and several times on the way here and after I got here, it took major strength to not go back home. 

I'm glad I didn't leave. Some of the women here were so accommodating when they realized I wasn't doing well. That helped, but I still wasn't able to make it through the first session. 

I consider it a "failure" that I had another panic attack, but I am proud of myself in that I did what I needed - I went outside to calm down. 

When I got to my car, I cried and prayed. I took photos with my phone.

I enjoyed the beauty and stillness of this setting. 

It made all of the difference. 

Though I'm still really tired and my vision is still blurry from crying, I didn't go into a full-blown panic attack this time... And one reason why is a realization I had. 

One of the issues today was the overwhelming thought that all of these women who are wearing nice clothes and have fixed hair and makeup have it all together.

When I was outside, I reminded myself (out loud) that yes, I'm not like these women. I never will be. I have a weird personality. I question everything. 

I have physical and mental health issues that literally affect everything I do. I don't have nice clothes and I sweat off makeup so quickly that I don't even try anymore. My hair is cut in a "brush it and go" style (and it's especially bad today since I slept on it wet). 

But I'm not less - less worthy, less important, less a woman - because of those differences. 

I feel that God made me this way and even though I'm the weirdo in a group of neurotypical women (or any group of neurotypicals), I'm okay with who I am. 

I might not be like these women, but I have a lot of great traits:

- I see the world through the lens of a camera and can tell you which angle would be best for the shot without having a camera in my hand. 

- I have been told that I'm a very good interviewer. 

- I can empathize with those going through a lot of crap. 

- I question everything (yes, it's both a weakness and a strength). 

- I am usually able to juggle all of the aspects of my life effectively, in spite of my struggles. 

- I know how to live without having much. 

- I've been really, really low and I lived through it. 

- I'll keep trying and rarely give up on a hard task. 

- I'm fiercely independent but I'm learning how a measure of give-and-take. 

- I get to interview and shoot some amazing people and events. 

- I can understand those who don't fit into the mold, especially in Christian circles. 

- I am blessed with a good living situation and have enough financially for what I need. 

- I have amazing friends and family (not all, but most). 

I could go on but I need to get back to focusing on what's going on about the retreat. 

Life is good and I'm thankful, even if I still have panic attacks. 

No Longer Afraid Part 2: Provision During "The Year From Hell"

As often happens, it took a while for me to add part 2 to my last post. As I'm incredibly busy right now with work, it would have been even longer to write this, but just as I decided to go to the pool to work out this morning (something else I've been putting off), it started thundering. The pool I go to still has the winter season dome over it so the rain isn't an issue - but if there's lightning in the vicinity they clear the pool.

So... I have some extra time to finally finish the "No Longer Afraid" post. (Don't worry - it won't be as long as the other post.)

The same day "the incident" happened (which led to what I affectionately called "The Year from Hell"), I interviewed at Sylvan Learning for a part-time job. The director was a former student's parent and she loved me. She called me about the job and as soon as I sat down for the interview, she told me I had the job if I wanted it - the interview was to simply tell me what it would entail so I could decide.

I remember thinking, "For the first time since I became a single parent, I will finally not be struggling financially." (My ex-husband rarely paid child support and by this time, he hadn't been paying at all for years.)

It didn't happen that way, as it was only a couple of days later that I was suspended without pay. 

Now the word "provision" in the title of this post doesn't mean I was completely provided for financially. I made it because I had great credit, a house with some equity, and the willingness to let go of a lot of my "stuff" by selling it. My parents also helped.

I maxed out my credit cards and hoped for the day that my ex-husband would finally pay the back child support. In fact, I was careful to keep my credit debt to less than the amount he owed.

However, I also had this new job. It wasn't much, as it was only part-time and the pay rate wasn't great.

But it was something to help with the financial battle I was facing until I got back to work (as I just knew I would at the beginning of this time).

Much, much more than the small financial boost that this job gave me was the confidence that I wasn't a horrible person - or a horrible teacher. In fact, I quickly became the favorite. Parents would request me to work with their children and the director would always put me with the students who had the most issues with learning.

It was really strange. As I mentioned in the other post, one of my biggest fears was that the incident would get into the news. Also, some of the teachers working there were in the same school system as me. Even if it didn't become public information, the rumor mill is huge within schools and I was always afraid I would be found out.

I never was. 

It was a tremendous help to know that I was wanted, that I was productive, that I was making a little money, I was getting out of the house to a safe place, and that, as I said before, I wasn't a terrible teacher.

But this story doesn't end there. When my parents and I made the decision to buy a house where we could live together, it took a while to sell the house and fully move. I still had things I had to take care of at home and so I went back there every week or two.

Sylvan is a national company. I talked to the director of the branch near my new home and he was excited about hiring me. I quickly became one of his favorites and he even started training me to possibly take his place when he retired.

During that summer of housing limbo, I worked both places - I just had to let them know when I could work and it was never a big deal in either place to take off a week or more at a time. 

I did so well in my local branch that eventually I went to another one on the other side of town to get extra hours. It wasn't enough to live on independently, but with my parents' help, I was able to make it and start paying towards some of my massive debt.

Speaking of debt, another provision was how I just happened to get a free consultation with a financial advisor whose office was part of the building where I worked as a receptionist. (This was later in the timeline.)

To my complete surprise, he suggested bankruptcy. I was the kind of person who always paid my debts and worked really hard to get and keep a great credit score. (In fact, it was part of my identity - that I'm good with finances.) 

I told him that I simply needed to get the back child support I was owed, and I had enough to pay everything off. 

Again, this is something I'll never forget: He told me that there was no shame in filing for bankruptcy. In fact, it was made for situations like mine.

And then he suggested an idea I never could have even dreamed about... He said, "Just think - what if you had all of your debts wiped clean AND you got the money he owed you?"

I was floored. I couldn't imagine getting ahead financially. I did take his advice and later, I did get most of that child support. (I'm still owed a good bit)

Even as the year from hell continued into the first two and then three years since the incident (now I call it the yearS from hell), God continued to provide. There were many times my anxiety overtook my mind and I forgot how faithful He had been. But then I would step back and remember that this provision was nothing short of amazing.

One day soon I'll try to post about all the other amazing things that have happened since the years from hell finally subsided. It's just wild how incredible my life is now when I thought it was over during that season.