hope Archives - Cindy Goes Beyond

May 9, 2017May 10, 2017

When I Believe

I wake up every morning with a song playing in my head. Sometimes the same song stays with me for days. Most often, the songs change with the sunrise. This morning I hummed along with the tune only I could hear, recalling a few of the words from the chorus.

Curious why this particular song was with me today, I pulled up the song list on my iPhone. I knew I had this one saved. From the Prince of Egypt soundtrack, I actually had two versions of the song, When You Believe, one from the animated film, and one performed by Whitney Houston and Mariah Carey.

I listened to both versions…and was moved to tears. And forget trying to sing along with the song. I choked up and no words could flow. Out running errands today, I must have played When You Believe at least a dozen times…and I teared up every time.

I have never been one to cry easily. When my emotions are close enough to the surface to inspire teary eyes, I pay attention. It is more than a Divine tap on the shoulder. Tears are a strong invitation to slow down and look deeply within.

After a day of reflection around the When We Believe lyrics, and my response to them, I’ve realized that the song mirrors aspects of my journey, and in particular, my healing journey.

I’m adjusting the lyrics, changing them to the first person. Otherwise they are directly from When We Believe.

Many nights I prayed/with no proof anyone could hear/in my heart a hopeful song/I barely understood.

I have a daily, ongoing conversation with the Divine. More than prayer, it is a share and listen kind of communication, full of signs and synchronicities. I do have proof I am heard. However, the part about having a hope in my heart that I barely understood was the first line that caused tears to flood my eyes.

I am a positive, hopeful person. However, as the pain in my legs increased the last few years, I felt like the hope I was clinging to, that I would somehow get better, was slipping away. The song I barely understood was the act of healing.

Now I am not afraid/although I know there’s much to fear/I was moving mountains/long before I knew I could

These words reminded me that fear no longer grips me as it once did, even though there will always be fear inducing events going on in the world. It is faith and trust that move mountains, or obstacles, out of the way. Part of my recent journey has been learning to trust deeply, and let go of any need to control life and outcomes.

(Chorus)

There can be miracles/when I believe/though hope is frail/it’s hard to kill.

Who know what miracles/I can achieve/when I believe somehow I will/I will when I believe

I have experienced miracles in my life, in my health and well being, the past 10 months. It began with a belief…and not just believing that I could get better. It started with the belief that there was an answer out there for me. I stopping asking for relief from the pain and healing for the deteriorating condition of my legs. Instead I asked where to look for answers to my questions…and remained open to all possibilities, both conventional and unconventional.

In this time of fear/when prayer so often proves in vain/hope seems like the summer bird/too swiftly flown away.

Yet now I’m standing here/my heart so full, I can’t explain/seeking faith and speaking words/I never thought I’d say.

One year ago, I felt fear trying to crowd into my heart and mind. I had been walking with a cane for more than six months. When I woke up in the mornings, it took half hour of slowly stretching out my legs before I could stand, and several more hours of using a cane before I could move well enough to leave the house.

18 months ago, the cane with me so I could walk. I was on pain meds, so I could keep up with my granddaughter and great niece. I was also 60 pounds heavier.

On my worst days, I wondered what was going to happen next. And when I would no longer be able to walk at all. Hope seemed fleeting on those days. My choice was to resign myself to the seemingly inevitable loss of mobility and severe, ongoing pain…or ask the Divine what I needed to do to bring about healing. Doctors had told me my condition would only continue to worsen.

And yet…now I’m standing here…my heart so full I can’t explain… Those words from the song evoked the greatest emotion. Because… I am standing. I am walking, without a cane. I am pain free. I am the healthiest I have been, in more than 22 years. My heart is, indeed, very full.

They don’t always happen when I ask/and it’s easy to give in to my fears/but when I’m blinded by my pain/can’t see the way, get through the rain

A small, but still, resilient voice/says hope is very near/there can be miracles/when I believe.

Beautiful, powerful words. I was nearly blinded by pain and despair wasn’t far from overtaking me. Hope was very near, however. That still small voice guided me to Anthony William…the Medical Medium…a man very connected to Spirit, who happened to have a post on Facebook about neurological pain as a result of the shingles virus attacking the nerves after a trauma. A trauma such as a car accident.

There in that article, I found answers.

In 2013, my word for the year was Believe. I learned a lot about my old beliefs and about seeing in a more expansive way. The next year my focus was on living Beyond my comfort zone and stretching and growing. Then I had a year with the word Journey, as I continued to move beyond what I had previously known. Last year was all about Surrender. I wasn’t in control of where the Journey was taking me. I only had to decide if I would go with the flow…or watch life flow by while I stood still. My trust and faith deepened incredibly last year.

While in that surrendered state…open and unattached, in pain and unsure what my future held, but believing, hoping, immersing myself in the flow…that still, small voice guided me to the answer I sought. I see the progression now, the unfolding of my journey, each step vital.

My healing journey continues, as I experience greater health. My heart is full…of wonder, gratitude, love, compassion and boundless hope. My desire is to share publicly about my journey, and the benefits and improvements that a healthy diet and a positive attitude can bring. Someone else may be asking for answers to their health struggles. Someone else may be clinging to the hope that they can heal.

There can be miracles, when you believe. Though hope is frail, it is hard to kill.

I believe.

Healthier, pain free, lighter, stronger.

Listen to When You Believe HERE

March 2, 2016

Surrender 62: The Siren Call of Spring

Stepping outside today, into brilliant sunshine and temperatures in the 60’s, I happened to glance down at the small flower beds on either side of the front deck steps. To my delight, the Stella de Oro Daylilies are pushing up noticeably through the mulch.

I slowly walked to the car, face tilted toward the blue sky, smiling. I had started the car, and was preparing to drive away, when I decided to surrender to the desire to walk around the yard. Spring appears to be arriving early this year. I chose to take a few moments to look for evidence of her appearance.

I found the first of the Spring Beauties, tucked among the roots of the maple tree. These delicate pink and white wild flowers are a sure sign that spring is approaching.

My neighbors’ forsythia bush is bursting with yellow blossoms. When did that happen? I walk across my front yard every day. I’m not paying enough attention to my surroundings when I can walk by such a bold announcement of spring without noticing. I appreciated this gentle reminder to really look at what’s around me.

I looked in earnest now. Herbs and perennials are waking up in the backyard garden, creating tiny pockets of green. Ornamental grasses are sending up slender stalks. The lilac bush is covered in tight, light green buds. And the hydrangea bush has its first bright green leaves unfurling.

Looking skyward, I saw that my trees and my neighbors’ trees are budding as well. Everywhere I looked, amid the lingering browns and grays of winter, life was stirring. Spring is indeed peeping out, almost shyly, making her presence known.

I got back into the car, driving thoughtfully, observing the trees and yards, and noting the signs of spring. Although it has been a very mild winter, my heart rejoices over the return of leaves and song birds, green grasses and colorful flowers. This is my favorite time of year. With the return of warmth and life, comes hope. And hope fuels my dreams. I’m so grateful spring beckoned to me today. I’m even more grateful that I took the time to respond.

February 18, 2014

Day 49: Angels for Joplin Exhibit

For today’s first, I visited the Joplin Public Library’s Post Memorial Art Library, where the Angels for Joplin Exhibit is displayed. Perhaps because it was in the library, or perhaps because of the nature of the exhibit, there seemed, to me, to be a quiet reverence in the room.

Artist Tricia Courtney created these angels, known as assemblage sculptures, from debris after the May 22, 2011 tornado struck Joplin. Tricia has made hundreds of such angels, selling them and then donating the proceeds to help with tornado relief. Many people who lost their homes brought items they had salvaged to Tricia and asked her to create an angel for them.

Almost three years after the tornado and I’m still deeply moved when I see items made from debris, when I hear of stories like this. The emotion of that day is forever seared into my heart and soul. The sights and sounds will never leave my brain. Some of that emotion rose in me today as I looked at Tricia’s angels of hope. Memory stirred and then settled down, leaving a slightly increased heart rate and moisture in my eyes. These sculptures were made with debris that came from my neighborhood. It seemed so significant, that I’d been drawn to view the exhibit and then discovered that fact. The broken scrap of wood and that rusty vent cover might have come from my neighbor’s house, my daughter’s house. It was sobering.

And yet I felt hope and a sense of the miraculous, looking at the sculptures. The real stories associated with these angels came immediately after the storm. Many, many tales surfaced about how angels protected survivors. Stories were told of tall muscular men in spotless white clothing who appeared in the midst of the chaos to help and then, impossibly, disappeared. Children spoke of giant butterflies that covered them and their loved ones. I believe those stories. They are an integral part of Joplin’s history now.

I appreciated each unique angel and the creative and compassionate heart of Tricia Courtney. And I appreciated the reminder that life and hope win out, no matter how severe the storm. Albert Einstein said, “There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.” I choose the latter. Thank you, Tricia, for helping me to remember that today.