Living Beyond My Circumstances. Deborah L Willows

This woman is a rare jewel in the body of Christ, inspiring and encouraging all those who know her. And I trust you will come to know her well through this book, Living Beyond My Circumstances. The book you hold in your hand is filled with nuggets of biblical insight and wisdom, honed and shaped from years of living with a significant disability. So be encouraged. Be blessed. And see what wonderful things the Holy Spirit has to say to you through Deb’s story!

      Joni Eareckson Tada,

      the Joni and Friends International Disability Center (Summer 2012)

      Acknowledgements

      To my mom and dad, who loved me the way I was and never expected less of me. Thank you for showing Christ’s love daily.

      To Sharon, Dan and Terry, my siblings, who treated me like one of them. Thank you.

      To Steph: Thank you for your friendship and help to accomplish another dream.

      Steph Beth Nickel

      Introduction: Celebrating the First Half Century

      In 2011 I celebrated 50 years of life on earth, 50 years of joy, struggles and pain. Living with cerebral palsy was taking its toll on my body. My neck, shoulders and lower back are always in pain. Even so, each year was intertwined with God’s faithfulness. I’d had 50 years to live for Him.

      So, what do you do to celebrate half a century of life? You go big! We booked my dream vacation, a Hawaiian cruise, in September 2010 and planned the excursions we wanted to take.

      “How do we get Deb on the tours?” asked Heather, friend, attendant and travel companion.

      “Like always; we just do it.” Pretty much my mom’s answer to everything.

      I’d taken many trips with only my parents to help, but they weren’t as young as they used to be. Five of my friends volunteered to save up and come along. My poor dad was the only man in the group.

      On March 26, Katie, Holly, Heather and I left Huntsville, Ontario, at 5:00 a.m. to drive to the Lester B. Pearson Airport in Toronto. Sylvia drove from London and met us there. We then flew to San Diego, where we connected with Mom and Dad. Esther was to fly in later.

      Exhausted but unable to sleep, around 4:00 the next morning I asked, “Syl, is Esther here yet?”

      “Not yet.”

      What’s happened to her? Is she going to make it on time?

      Not long after, there was rustling in the hall. “Syl, I think someone’s at the door.”

      Whew! It was Esther. Her flight had been grounded in Atlanta, and she’d had to get another to San Diego. She was tired, but she made it.

      The salt air tickled my nose as the eight of us boarded a cruise ship bound for Hawaii.

      Over the next two weeks, each friend took turns helping with my care. It’s one thing to assist in my home, but trying to help me shower or get to the toilet on a rocking ship...that’s a whole new world. My wheelchair and I ran into many walls because of the rough seas. Without my power chair, I was totally reliant on my travel companions for everything.

      When we arrived at the first island, we were greeted warmly by nationals who placed leis of shells around our necks while others danced to Hawaiian music. The tinkle of the shells and the rhythmic drumming filled my ears. It brought tears to my eyes. I’m really here!

      We had 14 days of food and crazy fun. We toured four islands. We saw beautiful gardens and Waikiki Beach. My friends even helped me walk into the water. We attended a luau, saw the Grand Canyon of the Pacific and toured the Ocean Center in Maui. We enjoyed the many activities and abundant food aboard ship. We even had cake on my 50th and my dad’s 73rd birthdays. Amazing!

      Months after my birthday, on Friday, July 1, I was walking my dog on the road. (There are not sidewalks where I live.) It was busy, being the first long weekend of summer. A glistening black BMW swerved toward me. I thought, “I’ll need to watch out for these crazy city drivers.”

      My brother Terry stuck his head out the window. A grin spread across my face. The family got out of the car to greet me, stopping traffic in both directions. They were in town from Vancouver.

      That Sunday my family threw a surprise party for me. They put on a spread fit for a queen. Seventy people from all over came to celebrate. I was blown away. I caught up with friends—some I hadn’t seen in years—including my grade eight teacher. I was in awe. God blessed me richly.

      Dream 50th birthday in Hawaii, 2011

      Deb with The Honourable David C. Onley

      1. Go for the Gold

      “See what my daughter won?”

      The patrons looked up from their Big Macs and McNuggets to see what all the fuss was about. We were in New York, and earlier that day I’d set a world record swimming the 25-metre freestyle. My dad was grinning from ear to ear. And while my cheeks were burning, I was grinning too. Even the cashier got in on the fun.

      “Would it be OK if I took the medal to the kitchen so the rest of the staff can see it?”

      “Sure,” I said.

      When I’d graduated from high school, I prayed, “God, please don’t let me lead a boring life.” Was I in for an amazing adventure!

      I participated in sports such as floor hockey in school but didn’t know I was on the road to becoming a Paralympic gold medalist. On June 1, 1984, I could hardly sit still. My transportation was arranged. My bags were packed. And my swimming gear was stowed, everything including extra towels for me to sit on so I wouldn’t slide out of my wheelchair when I was wet. Family and friends stopped by to wish me well.

      The excitement was too much. Come 6:00 a.m., I was still wide awake, wondering what the next month would be like. In the morning I left for a week of training at the University of Windsor in preparation for the Games.

      A couple of hours later, Doug, Canada’s head coach, handed me a package. “Your uniform, Willows.”

      This is really happening.

      Pretty much exhausted, I slept well that night. And it’s a good thing too. The organizers had prepared a full schedule. Two hours of swimming before breakfast. An hour of slalom, an hour of field events and an hour or two of soccer before supper.

      “I think you should take Friday off,” Vicki, my coach, suggested.

      I frowned at her and shook my head.

      “Debbie...”

      “Fine.”

      It was probably for the best. Having cerebral palsy (CP) meant I tired easily at the best of times. (Cerebral palsy is a neurological disorder caused by damage to the motor control centres of the developing brain either before or during birth. It neither worsens with time nor is contagious.)

      On Saturday the athletes and their coaches boarded one bus while the other was filled with our equipment: two wheelchairs for each athlete, one everyday chair and another sports specific chair; spare parts; etc. We drove to Detroit so we could catch a plane to Newark. When we exited the airport, my heart began to pump faster. My eyes widened. The Paralympic Games bus was waiting for us.

      After making our way through the congested New York streets, we arrived on Long Island. Immediately, the athletes went through an accreditation process. An official photographer took our pictures. After the day of travel, I looked like the dog’s breakfast.

      “Wear your ID at all times.”

      I