The Importance of a Vision

Early in 2018, as a mother of five small children including eight-month-old twins, I suddenly and inexplicably collapsed, paralyzed from the waist down. 

Diagnosed with transverse myelitis, I was hospitalized for treatment and then immediately moved to an inpatient rehab facility for physical and occupational therapy. While a full recovery was not guaranteed, I had to learn how to function with my limited mobility, and if possible, learn how to walk again. 

Being away from my husband and children was heartbreaking – especially being away from my twin babies, who had to be weaned because of my absence. Their visits to my hospital were the highlights of my weeks. My dear friend brought printed photos of my little ones to hang in my room, which added a touch of homeyness to the institutional environment.

Other friends brought further elements of home – books, colored pencils, flowers, a potted plant, a get-well poster decorated by the children from church, a beautiful cup for my tea (I still have it even though the handle is now broken). Homemade salads, non-cafeteria food, and good coffee were other loving gestures from my supportive friends and family who traveled to the rehab facility to brighten my days.

Each day, I had three hours of therapy, which helped me progress in recovering my movement. First, I learned how to scoot from my bed to my wheelchair without falling. It was a relief when I soon learned to stand up and take a couple steps holding a railing so that I could facilitate certain basic needs myself. The big goal was learning how to walk, and it was a fascinating experience.

It blew my mind that I couldn’t control my feet and simply will them to move or will my body to balance. It was a process of tiny victories, and it gave me such a respect for the therapists who daily help people in such ways.

One therapist in particular made a huge difference in my recovery, in that she seemed to have an intuition for what I truly needed. At one point, I desperately wanted to abandon rehabilitation and just go home, but when I made my wishes known to others, they seemed to quickly dismiss my request as foolish. She, however, took me seriously. Even though she surely agreed with everyone else that my going home was not the wisest plan, she explored the possibility, and she leveled with me about the result I could expect. Not only did she effectively reason me into staying so I could eventually go home walking, but she also showed me what I needed to see.

I can still clearly remember her walking a straight line in front of me so I could observe her upright posture, squared shoulders, confident foot placement, and fluid motion. She told me to close my eyes when I was resting in my room and envision myself walking – an exercise for my brain that would be just as beneficial as my physical exercise during therapy hours.

During those weeks in my patient room, I did envision I was walking with just as much grace as my therapist. What’s more, I took it even further and made a practice of closing my eyes and purposefully envisioning what I longed to do with the rest of my life.

I wanted to wake up every morning next to my husband, and swing my feet to the floor boards aglow in early sunbeams. I wanted to slip silently down the narrow hall to the kitchen and make fresh coffee in our Chemex, hoping the children would sleep a bit longer. I wanted to settle into the couch and linger over my coffee cup with my Bible on my knee, smiling as my sweet little ones emerged from their room. I wanted to make breakfast for them, and enjoy the meal together at the large table by the window, bowing our heads to give thanks. I wanted to go through all the mundane, exquisitely beautiful moments of everyday life with my family, in our home. 

Thanks be to God, I did experience a miraculous recovery. I was able to go home walking with canes just a few weeks after not being able to walk at all. After several days at home, I was able to resume care of my five little children, including carrying the babies (one at a time, at first). Not long later, I was back to normal, taking long morning walks and toting a baby in each arm, and no one who saw me would ever have guessed what I had just been through. I am blessed, and I am deeply thankful.

I can’t help reflecting on the importance of having a vision. Whether that goal is to learn how to walk again or create a beautiful home life, keeping that vision in your mind’s eye can have a powerful effect on whether you’ll eventually succeed.

What is it for you, friend – the dream you long to someday make reality? Hold that vision in your mind, as richly detailed as you possibly can. With prayer, work, and time, you may find yourself exactly where you hoped to be, and perhaps more quickly than you ever imagined. 🌿