John 5:8-9,11-12
8 Jesus saith unto him, Rise, take up thy bed, and walk.
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When I was raped in spring 2014, my home was set on fire while I was unconscious.
Never suicidal, without a phone or time to use a phone as the microwave, the oven, the televisions, the computers began exploding, I jumped a second story window because I did not want to die.
I broke a window, after covering my fist in heavy drapes.
I came to wearing white basketball shorts covered entirely in blood. From having been raped for many hours. I had come to a short while before naked; I ran to put on clothes.
After few months in a wheelchair, I learned to crawllean into the bathroom, to crawl to shower, to use my wheelchair for getting over to the dining area for two meals a day.
I walked out of my wheelchair because fervent prayer and gentle accruing stretching built daily on what I had attempted the days before, and succeeded at in the days following, made for a stable, prayerful, holistic kinesthetics process along with an indomitable will of never giving up.
The facility which allowed me a wheelchair during my stay there sent me to a place which would not accept me with a wheelchair.
This is illegal, because state and federal law required the second place to be able to take disabled persons including those with wheelchairs.
I was told I could not go, as they would not welcome anyone in wheelchairs, and please could I not use a wheelchair while I was there.
I did learn to kneel, and stretch, and crawl, and walk, and even run, again.
Because my situation and case was the first time at the second place that somebody had tried to go there in a wheelchair, I made it possible for, during my time there, a couple of years, others, both women, to be accepted with wheelchairs, even though I myself was not admitted with a wheelchair.
The magic of prayer, the hope of the Christian, which I find congruent and applicable and inclusive and in necessity of and also necessary to Jewish and Buddhist, and Shinto and Moslem, and Hindu, and Native American sacrosanct precepts that I follow sometimes a Catholic way, sometimes/always a Mormon way, thankfully/also a Jewish way, although mostly not on my own but with the help of elders and those in the know who guide my way face to face, online and off, in RL/"real life" as well... cements in me, as though they are three feet by three feet square of concrete, a very real, effusive and centralized and focused and wonderful way of making sure, yes, MAKING SURE, that God is real, and God is good, and God is real and good all the time.
This is more than just feminism, this is not about "disability and fandom" because it is not about necessarily even my gender, although that is an intrinsic part of my personhood, it is about concentrated power of will, because my focus is Jesus, and he carried me through the sand, and he does not let up. And he won't even let even you give up, if you have love of God in your heart.
Yes, my history of martial arts from age 12 to now, the pilates in college (I paid my way through community college and by the grace of God I have an Associates in Liberal Studies, and I went to adult school to become a professional pharmacy technician) even if those who would nullify the very proofs of my existence could never imagine that I could have this power, this Godgiven power, this understanding through discipline of some few years of martial arts, would help me WALK OUT OF A WHEELCHAIR.
So yes, this experience and hard work and dedication helps a lot.
But so does Jesus.
So does God.
If you are in need of health help, pray and do Tai Chi.
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